December 31: Today's walk was pretty much ceremonial, as I spent most of the day with the Foothills United Methodist and Tucson Unitarian congregations. The UM service was first, and I was very warmly received - it was a true pleasure to participate in the service. Vince, a member of the UU congregation who had been at the Food Conspiracy yesterday, was there as promised, and after I had time to collect a large number of signatures and many generous donations, whisked me off to the UU service, where once again I was treated wonderfully and was the recipient of much generosity, including lunch after the service, which lasted until 2:30.
That didn't leave much time for walking, but Vince wanted to join me for a while so we went down and put in a few miles, which gave us a chance to talk for a while. I continue to be amazed at the consistent level of caring, insight and authenticity in the people I am meeting along the way. It truly humbles me.
There doesn't seem to be anyone waiting for the computer tonight, so I'm going to try to sneak in one story:
Last night I met Chris Austin and his step-brother, whose name, sadly, I did not catch. To say I met them last night is just a tad inaccurate, as Chris and his brother have been hanging around the lobby computer like bees around honeysuckle ever since I arrived here. Chris, in my never-too-accurate estimation, is about fourteen; his brother about twelve. They have been very courteous to me, relinquishing the computer when I arrive in the lobby ever since the first night when they realized I wanted to use it for a bit.
Last night was the same - they saw me enter the lobby and Chris told me to wait just a second while they closed down what they were working on and I could have the computer. They did that, I did my website work and went back to my room. But about five minutes later I returned to the lobby. They were, of course, back at the computer again.
I sat down beside them and said, "Guys, I need to talk to you a minute.'' They said sure, so I continued. "When I came down earlier and you were closing down the windows you had been working on, I couldn't help but notice that one of the windows you had open was the home page of the company that hosts my website. Now, I know that the only way that window could have been open is if you were trolling around in the computer's history and brought it up, which means that either you're curious about what I'm doing or you're trying to hack my website."
"Assuming that you're curious, I came back down here to tell you what I'm doing." And I explained my walk to them. They were both very interested and had all kinds of questions. Are you really walking all the way or driving part of it? What do people say to you? Then Chris asked me, "Why do you think they'll listen to you?" I told him, "To be truthful, I don't know whether they will listen to me or not. But if I didn't do this, I would never know, would I? Besides, I'm just doing what I believe I have to do." Chris understood perfectly what I meant.
I also told them that we were in a sort of uncomfortable position, because I'm no web guru and doubt that the website is heavily protected, so if they were actually trying to hack my site I'm sure it wouldn't be very hard to do. "But," I said, "If you do hack it, I won't be impressed - just very, very hurt - and so will many other people who are interested in what I'm trying to do."
They swore up and down that they had not been trying to hack my website...and I truly believe them. We talked for a while longer about my walk and about the wars, and the next thing I know Chris had pulled out his wallet and handed me everything he had in it. It was fourteen dollars. I tried to refuse it, thanking him at the same time for his thoughtfulness - but he insisted. "Please, I want you to have it. I think what you're doing is really neat."
I finally accepted. And while I've received many larger donations, I have received few that I will remember as clearly as this one - and none that were given any more sincerely.
Speaking of donations, I have received several via PayPal during the past week and I hope those who have donated via PayPal are keeping up with my journal, because I want you to know that at this time PayPal is not sending me notifications of your donations, which means I dont have a way to contact you and thank you. I'm only finding out about these donations by going into my PayPal account and observing there that they have been made. I've been in contact with PayPal to try to resolve this, but that hasn't happened yet. At any rate, I just wanted those generous folks to know that their donations have indeed been received and as soon as I can establish an email address I will send along a personal thanks.
Jonna is in Oklahoma tonight and will soon complete her trek to our daughter's. She is out of the snow and ice but battling some pretty vicious winds. What an adventure this is turning out to be! And just in case she has the opportunity to get on the computer and check the Journal - Happy Anniversary, my love. You are my joy - and I miss you terribly each and every day. Sleep well tonight.
December 30: Jonna is riding out the weather in Clovis tonight. Tomorrow is our anniversary. I put in a short day so I could get to the reception at Food Conspiracy Co-Op this afternoon. The reception went very well I thought, with a healthy and insightful dialogue among those who were there. Halfway through, I was informed that one of those present was a reporter for the Tucson Weekly, so I guess there will be an article there some time soon. Perhaps during these discussions I get a bit more passionate about all of this than I ought, but I don't think I put anyone off too badly. Tomorrow will also be a short day as I'll begin with attending services at St. Francis in the Foothills United Methodist Church which has graciously sponsored me for several days. After that, I believe I may wind up at the Unitarian Universalist church as well - and may have some more people joining me on the walk for what will be left of the day. Still on the public computer tonight so I have to keep it short. I'm accumulating quite a bit I would like to share but will have to wait until I can acquire some more dedicated computer time. Although tomorrow will be short, it will see me out of Tucson and on my way to New Mexico.
December 29: I have to keep it short again since I'm still on the lobby computer at the motel. Jonna is riding out a snowstorm northeast of Alamagordo tonight hoping the weather will clear tomorrow. Everyone in Tucson keeps apologizing for the weather, which is the coldest they've seen for a long, long time I guess. But it hasn't been bad walking weather. I did 15.9 miles today and Rich took a few mile break in the middle but otherwise was with me for the whole day. Near the end of today's walk Tucson's channel 11 caught up with us and did a fairly extensive interview. It's supposed to air on both the Fox channel (11) tonight at 9 and the NBC channel (4) at 10 p.m. It will be interesting to see how it comes out. Tomorrow should be a fairly short walking day what with the reception beginning at 3 p.m. but I hope to be able to get in at least 10 miles - and I think the weather is supposed to start getting better. I'm looking forward to getting to a computer where I have more time to journal - and where I don't have to listen to Barry Manilow singing ''I Write the Songs" in the background. Again, apologies for not responding to emails right now, but I promise I will soon.
December 28: I'm on a borrowed computer tonight so can't write long. Jonna is on her way to Missouri. I made short mileage on a drizzly, windy Tucson day, but much good happened. Rich Sickler, verteran of the Great Peace March, arrived today to walk with me until the end of the year. The St. Francis Foothills United Methodist Church is putting me up at La Quinta Inn for the four nights I estimate I'll be in Tucson range - a greatly appreciated treat. Tucson's channel 11 will be locating me tomorrow for an interview. Don't forget the reception from 3 to 5 p.m. Saturday at the Food Conspiracy Co-Op at 412 N. 4th Ave. in Tucson. I'll also be at Sunday morning services at Foothills UMC. It's going to be a busy week, which is great - because I'm already missing Jonna and the guys. More when I get to a computer I can have to myself for a while - reply to emails may also be a bit delayed for a while...sorry. Thanks, Wendy and Rolly - and everyone who's been so great!
P.S. Passed the 400 mile mark today!!!
December 27: I’m not going to write much again tonight because I’m completely bushed - not from the walk, which was a healthy one under cloudy skies and a bit more wind than I would have preferred - but from the running all over Tucson afterward in a largely futile effort to get things done in preparation for Jonna’s departure, which should happen some time tomorrow. One thing we did manage to do - which we hadn’t set out to do - was to get proper insurance in place for Nessie. We’ve used State Farm for years, but State Farm really doesn’t do RV insurance. So we had rudimentary insurance in place with them and today happened to stop by an RV supply place where they had a GMAC/Good Sam agent right there in the store who set us up with appropriate coverage for about 2/3 what State Farm had been charging. I’ll call our State Farm agent tomorrow to cancel.
I’m still agonizing about what to keep with me when Jonna leaves. I feel like I should keep the computer for the ability to write the journal, check email etc., but she may talk me out of it. If communication is sparse for the next while, you’ll know that I’ve opted to let her take the computer with her to Missouri.
I expect with preparations for Jonna leaving tomorrow I won’t be putting in very many miles. But I figure I’ve earned a break with the pushing I’ve been doing since I got back on the road. I do have an offer of accommodations in Tucson, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with the person making the offer yet, so we’ll see how it goes. That’s enough. I’ve got to get some sleep.
December 27: (Very, very early.) We figured out how to get the furnace lit before we went to bed (hooray!) It doesn't seem to be kicking out enough heat to keep us warm (Boo!) So I'm up at 1 a.m. trying to figure out what's wrong. My best guess at this hour is that the previous owners never used it and the vents are mostly clogged up with 20+ years of debris.
Anyway, since I was up I decided to check email, and one of my wonderful regulars, Danielle, had sent along some lyrics to a song I'm quite familiar with...at least for the first two verses. I think this goes for most people out there. Jonna was familiar with all the verses, but it hadn't occurred to her. As she says, "They teach the song in school, but probably wouldn't if they ever went beyond the first two verses." She's right. But now that I have the complete verses, I think I may be singing it often along the way:
Chorus:
This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me
As I was walking a ribbon of highway
I saw above me an endless skyway
I saw below me a golden valley
This land was made for you and me
Chorus
I've roamed and rambled and I've followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
And all around me a voice was sounding
This land was made for you and me
Chorus
The sun comes shining as I was strolling
The wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
The fog was lifting a voice come chanting
This land was made for you and me
Chorus
As I was walkin' - I saw a sign there
And that sign said - no tress passin'
But on the other side .... it didn't say nothin!
Now that side was made for you and me!
Chorus
In the squares of the city - In the shadow of the steeple
Near the relief office - I see my people
And some are grumblin' and some are wonderin'
If this land's still made for you and me.
Chorus (2x)
©1956 (renewed 1984), 1958 (renewed 1986) and 1970 TRO-Ludlow Music, Inc. (
BMI)
December 26: I ended the walk today between Picacho and Picacho Peak State Park - and will be within easy range of Tucson tomorrow. This means that Jonna will be taking off for Missouri soon, and although I’ve been really pushing to get to Tucson, I will hate to see her leave - mostly because I’m going to be worrying about her like crazy while she’s on the road by herself. It also means that over the next day or so we have to get things sorted out in terms of what I’m going to be carrying with me and get a little prep done on Nessie for cold weather running. That may eat into my walk time a bit, but I hope it won’t impact too much.
Torey at Tucson Food Conspiracy Co-Op has arranged a reception for me on Saturday from 3 p.m. to 5 p.m. at 412 N Fourth Avenue, which was a wonderful thing for her to do. If you’re in the area, you’re more than welcome to drop in. I still haven’t heard back from any of the Tucson area TV stations, radio stations or newspapers, but we’ll see what the next couple of days brings.
Some excellent stuff comes to me by way of Susan Robertson (thanks, Soozy!) - and I wanted to share a bit of it here. It’s from an article written by Linda Milazzo, a Los Angeles based activist and writer. She talks about the negativism and frustration being vented on the Web. She quotes a comment posted on a recent article written by Cindy Sheehan. The person commenting says, in part:
"Dear Ms. Sheehan,
I applaud your activism. So many of us are weary and tired and cannot believe the nightmare that we are living under this regime...It is so depressing that for me, I have made the resolution that I will seek some way of life that allows me to separate myself from this insanity because without Divine Intervention, there is no hope of the criminal, corrupt and debase cabal being removed.
If websites would open up and allow the common man to post then the movement would truly feel the frustration in the land. But the website managers are practicing the same level of ‘elitism’ that corporate media practices albeit in a different ‘resource pool.’...Unfortunately, the rest of the world will hold All Americans responsible for the actions of our government. How will the American people answer? What will be our excuse? God help us all."
Ms. Milazzo responds:
"If anyone should be weary and tired, it's Cindy Sheehan. If anyone's suffered a nightmare under this regime, it's Cindy Sheehan. This poster's main concern is not having the opportunity to write about his/her concerns. Rather than jumping in ‘feet_first’ to solve the problems, the poster is seeking some manner of separation from the ‘insanity.’
The American people can answer by taking to the streets to prove to the world that ‘All Americans’ aren't responsible for the actions of our government.
On January 27th United For Peace And Justice has organized a major rally in Washington, DC to demand an end to the war in Iraq. I'll be in Washington on January 27th. Cindy will be in Washington on January 27th. Will ‘YOU’ the Persons of the Year be in Washington on January 27th?"
Bravo, Ms. Milazzo! You are saying precisely the things I’m trying to say. Is anyone still wondering why Jonna and I left our jobs, sold our home, put ourselves through incredible chaos with no sort of safety net, no guarantees that we won’t come out of this on the other end both penniless and homeless - and I’m walking almost three thousand miles, about fifteen miles a day through the middle of winter with no idea whatsoever where I’ll be sleeping a few days from now? Well, if you’re still wondering, let me make it clear: It’s because I’m hoping like anything that the thought will occur to you, "Gee, if he can do that - if he can put his health, his safety, his security, his time, his energy, his future, his resources on the line to try to end this war and bring this administration into check, maybe I can - and should - do SOMETHING as well." YES! Despair doesn’t get anyone anywhere. Neither does anger, frustration, ranting, surrender, apathy or hopelessness. ACTION - thoughtful action - is our only avenue for change.
While I was walking today, I was being interviewed via cell phone by a reporter back in California. During the interview she asked me what stake I had in all of this, and began offering a list: "Do you have a son or daughter serving in Iraq? Friends or other family members..." I interrupted her. "I have a far greater stake in this than any of that," I told her. "My country is at stake. Our democracy is at stake. Do you think democracies are lost through wars or blood in the streets? No, they slowly slip away while we’re not paying attention. They are stolen from us by over-reaching executive branches and legislators who roll over and play dead for fear of being labeled alarmists or hurting their chances for re-election...and by apathetic citizens who have forgotten that THEY are the ones who are really in charge. The country I love has, at this moment, ceased to exist - and I’ll do whatever I can to get her back." That’s my stake in this. What’s yours - and what are you going to DO about it?
December 25: I’m not going to write much today. I made 16.7 miles on a beautiful walking day, which took me all the way through Casa Grande and down to the intersection of Jimmie Kerr Road and Interstate 10. We ran a few miles ahead to a nearby Motel 6 and are relaxing there for the night. Jonna put a ham in the crock pot last night so we had a Christmas dinner of ham, potatoes, baked beans, cheesecake - and a little champagne and orange juice to celebrate. I lucked out and got a Motel 6 that has a tub, so I soaked my weary feet (and the rest of my bones) for a while, which felt outstanding. All in all, it’s been a wonderful day for us - and I hope it’s been the same for you. The guys now send their Christmas greeting:
Merry Christmas, Everyone!
Psst! Finn - d'ya think the hats make us look a bit silly?
December 24: (Earlier) I caught up with Jonna a little after noon. She had pulled into the parking lot of the Burnt Bun Café at the corner where route 347 finishes its southward journey from Phoenix as it encounters route 84 making its way into Casa Grande. Whether the Burnt Bun Café is a going concern is questionable, but the convenience store attached to it was open for business, and there were three dusty vehicles parked in the over-large parking lot - two trucks and a motorhome - whose owners were in the process of assembling an impromptu flea market. I thought it was a curious thing to be doing on Christmas Eve.
The guys needed to unwind a little and the parking lot was big enough for an off-highway romp, so I invited them out without their leashes, a certain indication to them that it’s play time. They wasted no time bouncing around the barren lot, acquainting themselves with the new smells and generally being a nuisance to each other. In front of the aged motorhome a white-bearded man had set up a row of tables stacked with hats for sale. He sat on a chair at the near side of his row of hats, and a leash fastened to the chair led to a round beagle who, in dog years, probably had his owner by at least a decade or so.
The beagle seemed interested in the playful fuss and commotion the guys were creating, so I decided introductions were in order. Finn is interested in new people or new dogs, but in the typical Sheltie caution, he prefers to make the introductions in his own way and his own careful time. Spoof, on the other hand, never met a stranger he didn’t immediately like. The beagle creaked to her feet as we approached - her tail stiff, straight, and pointed directly skyward. With no clear indication of her mood, I curbed Spoof’s enthusiasm as we drew near and made friendly sounds to reassure the beagle.
The white bearded man noticed us as we crossed the parking lot - it’s difficult not to notice a couple of pint-sized Lassie clones in their sable finery bouncing toward you. He smiled, turned to his beagle and said, "Wag your tail, Bailey. Wag your tail." Bailey didn’t change her stance, but her ramrod tail began obediently moving from side to side like a metronome. The man greeted me by saying, "That’s how we let her know it’s OK - we tell her to wag her tail and she knows it’s alright." Sure enough, Bailey proved amiable to Finn and Spoof’s advances and the three of them set about the usual dog greetings of sniffing and circling, tails held high.
A license plate placard on the front of the motorhome read "Kactus Rose". The vehicle itself had originally been either an olive green or a medium brown - it was hard to tell. An awning alongside provided shade that wasn’t really necessary on this bright but cool afternoon. Under the awning I noticed a woman arranging some merchandise. When she saw us getting acquainted with Bailey, she stopped what she was doing to join us. I noticed that while the couple had a fairly good-sized inventory of hats for sale, they all seemed to be the same style - white straw with a black band - a little taller and broader brimmed than a Stetson. Odd.
The couple seemed pleased that Bailey had found some new friends, and after observing that the guys were attentive to my instructions, decided to let her off her leash for a little more freedom. The three of them immediately shot off across the parking lot, Finn and Spoof in the lead, Bailey lumbering along joyfully behind. When they got as far as I felt was safe, I called the guys back to me. Back they raced, nearly bowling Bailey over, but she rolled around and followed, joining in another round of sniffing and greeting as the three of them circled our feet.
We talked for a while as our dogs repeated the exercise, romping across the lot until I called them back, then socializing a moment before doing it again. When I called, "Bailey, come!" she wheeled around, huffing to my feet, where I bent down and rubbed her back as she arrived. "Good dog, Bailey!" The man was surprised. "We don’t usually let her off her leash "cause she tends not to listen when we call her. Always after some rabbit or something. Must be something in your voice."
Naturally, given the environment, our conversation was about traveling as much as it was about dogs. "Where ya from?" "San Diego." "Where ya headed?" "Washington D.C." "Good long drive ahead of ya." I always hesitate at this point. I’m not a self-promoter. "Well, actually my wife is driving, but I’m walking." This produces a thoroughly predictable sideways glance. "You’re walking all the way to Washington?" "Yep." A short pause. "Any particular reason?" Another short pause. "I’m carrying a petition to Congress asking them to end the wars." And we’ve come, just like that, to the intersection of this new relationship. This time, there is no stop sign at the intersection - not even so much as a caution for merging traffic. "Can I sign it?" "You bet you can." I return quickly to Nessie and grab the pouch containing a laminated copy of the petition and a number of signing sheets and bring them back. The couple both squint in the bright noon Arizona sun as they read the petition. Then they smile, and carefully add their names to the list.
Conversation now broadens. We talk about how things used to be and how they are now. It involves an occasional sigh and considerable shaking of heads. We agree that things are neither like they used to be nor like we would want them to be, but there is an added element to this often repeated discussion; there is a glimmer of hopefulness in the old man’s voice as he says, "Well, at least you’re trying to do something about it." "I’ll do the best I can," I assure him. "Thanks for signing my petition." "No, thank you - and Godspeed." The man reaches down to fasten a leash on a thoroughly exhausted but obviously happy Bailey while I call the guys back to me. "Well, time to get ready for another few miles. Have yourselves a great Christmas." "You too - and good luck!" The guys head back in the direction of Nessie, and I remember once again why I’m doing this.
December 24: I’ve really been pushing for miles the past few days because the sooner I can get within range of Tucson the sooner Jonna can head out for Missouri - and although I really, really, really don’t want to see her go, I do want her to be able to spend some of the holiday season with family, so like I said, I’ve been pushing. But after two 20+ mile days in a row I wasn’t up to continuing that pace today, so I had to settle for just under fifteen and the little town of Stanford just west of Casa Grande. Christmas Day will see me walking through Casa Grande. We were able to come off the interstate for this portion of the trip without adding too many niles to the journey, so we’re following 84 now through Casa Grande and southeast from there until it joins up with Interstate 10. I’ve sent press releases to the newspapers, TV stations and radio stations in Tucson but haven’t had any replies yet. I’ll be right around the 400 miles mark on my journey by the time I reach Tucson and am hoping I might begin finding a wider audience soon. But that will take care of itself.
For Christmas Eve, Jonna, the guys and myself are bedded down in an RV park west of Casa Grande. Even though we’re roughing it in a brand new environment, Jonna’s fixing a real holiday meal for tomorrow - baked ham and mashed potatoes and cheesecake and the works. We even got some special treats for the guys. I truly hope the holiday finds you and yours together, safe and warm and that you have an outstanding and very peaceful day tomorrow.
December 23: Since tomorrow is Christmas Eve, I'll depart from the usual Journal entry tonight. First, some scenes along the way today:
The guys enjoying their morning romp
Jumping Cholla in the morning light -
Pretty, but don't even think about touching!
This is your Saguaro...
...this is your Saguaro on drugs.
(and with a hawk on its head)
Finally for tonight, Jonna and I thought it would be nice to share something we wrote for a Christmas Eve service a number of years back. It seemed somehow apropos to where we're at and what we're trying to do.
The Peace of Christ
Judy always looked forward to the Christmas Eve candlelight service at her church back home. Now that she had moved to the city it was a long drive for her, and a lonely one, since the kids were all grown now and Harold had passed away a few years back. But regardless of the weather, she made the trip. Near the end of the service everyone would light their candles and sing Joy to the World or Silent Night, and her heart would be filled with the glow from that candle, giving her a peace she could never describe. Each year she tried to keep that candle burning for as long as she could as she left the service, but usually the wind would blow it out the minute she stepped out the front door of the church to start the journey home again.
She tried to keep the glow alive in her life, too. But for the last few years that seemed to be just as difficult as trying to keep her candle burning. The love of old friends warmed her during the service, but as she drove away, the increasing loneliness and coldness of the world around her seemed to smother that small flame like a cold, gray blanket. Sometimes it seemed like she was the only one who knew this warmth, the only one who felt it anymore. Sometimes it seemed like her candle was the only light in a dark and dreary world.
She hummed a few of the carols as she drove, trying to keep the feeling that seemed to fade with each mile. As she pulled up to the highway tollbooth, a small flicker of that light rose within her. She handed the tollbooth operator a dollar bill, and as he reached back through the night to give her her change, the light left within her brought a small smile to her lips and a few little words. "May the peace of Christ be with you," she said to the man in the tollbooth. She pulled back into the Christmas Eve traffic, the light within her dimming with each passing mile.
Harry was almost happy to be at work on Christmas Eve. For some reason this season had seemed even more frantic than usual. Too much shopping, too much spending, too many parties, too many people to visit, and not enough time to get everything done. Maybe being at work would take his mind off of everything. But as the cars lined up at his booth, his mind was still buzzing with all the uproar of the holiday. To make matters worse, it was cold and the snow was blowing in through the window every time a car pulled up. Work was only going through the motions - nothing seemed to be in place this year, and even worse, none of it really seemed to matter.
The light blue sedan pulled up beside his window and the lady handed him a dollar bill. He barely even looked at it - he had the change lined up in front of him. He slid a stack of coins from the counter and as he reached out to drop them in the woman's palm, he met her eyes for the briefest instant. She looked up at him and even over the noise of the freeway traffic he heard what she said. She said, "May the peace of Christ be with you." And she drove on. Somehow, somewhere deep within him, Harry felt a brightness he hadn't felt for a while. As it flickered and caught hold, he suddenly realized not only how good it felt, but how much he had needed it. The peace of Christ, he thought to himself. Yes, the peace of Christ. Harry found himself humming a Christmas carol - not one that had stuck in his mind from the department store noise and confusion of the last few weeks, but one from long ago and deep inside him, one his grandmother had loved. Soon he was singing right out loud and the drivers passing through his booth looked at him as though he had lost his mind. It didn't matter. He smiled and sang through the evening. The peace of Christ had found him; the peace of Christ was with him.
Jim and Sarah were glad it was only a few more miles to home. The kids had been bouncing off the walls tonight. Sure, it was Christmas Eve, so they were naturally wound up, but Sarah was near exhaustion and wanted nothing more than to get home and somehow get everyone off to bed so they could collapse. She thought if she heard one more chorus of Jingle Bells from the back seat she'd tie every one of them to a one horse open sleigh and drag them over the river and through the woods. They pulled up to the toll booth and as Jim rolled down the window, Sarah heard another voice. It was the tollbooth operator singing "O Come, All Ye Faithful." What a strange song to hear coming from the man in the tollbooth, she thought as they drove away. It wasn't something she expected to hear - it wasn't something she had heard in a while.
Jim took the next exit and they were moving through the streets of the city now. The commotion from the back seat died for a moment as the kids finished the seventeenth round of Jingle Bells. Sarah barely noticed; she was deep within herself. "Mom, what should we sing now?" Sally asked. "We don't know the words to 'Grandma got Run Over by a Reindeer.'" Sarah didn't say anything, but almost without thinking, she began singing softly: "Away in a manger, no crib for a bed..." Jim glanced over at her with a look of surprise, then turned his attention back to the city street, smiling. He joined her: "the little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head." Quietly, the kids took up the song with their mom and dad: "The stars in the sky looked down where he lay, the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay."
Christmas Eve. Just another night, Ken thought. The soup kitchen had closed for the evening and he had begun to look for a warm place to rest until morning, when he could check out the shelters on the west side. Everything downtown was full, what with the snow coming down and the wind whipping around the streets tonight. Just another night, another day to get through. Seemed like nothing ever changed, nothing ever got better. Even at Christmas. Not much traffic on the streets now. As he crossed the intersection, he heard something coming from the car waiting for the light to change. A clear, small voice. A little girl's voice. She was singing: "Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head..." No crib for a bed. Join the club, pal, Ken thought as he walked on. No crib for a bed. The words echoed in his head. No crib for a bed. The little Lord Jesus - God's own Son lying in a manger, no crib for a bed. That's where I am, and God's been there, too. The thought stopped Ken in his tracks. God's been there, too. I thought I was on my own. I thought no one else knew what it was like. But even here, God is with me. God's been there. God is here. God understands.
Janet would rather have been anywhere than on her way to work tonight. She was a dedicated nurse, but getting stuck with the evening shift on Christmas Eve was stretching her dedication to the limit. Working with mentally handicapped patients was tough enough on a normal day, and it certainly wasn't going to bring her much peace on Christmas Eve. She thought about Bobby. Would he still be as withdrawn as he had been for the past several weeks? There didn't seem to be anything she could do to snap him out of it. Oh well, let's just get through the evening, she thought. I can't let it get to me like this. As she neared the corner there was a homeless person standing near the mail box. She moved a step and a half over and looked past him as though he didn't exist the way you have to do if you live in the city. But she could tell this one was looking straight at her. Another handout to avoid. As she passed though, he didn't make his move. He just spoke to her as if he knew her. He said, "God is with us tonight. Merry Christmas." It almost broke her stride. She expected either to be hit up for a buck or to hear a string of irrational nonsense. But this was neither. He had been rational and sincere. He meant what he had said, and that's all he meant to say. God is with us tonight. Merry Christmas. He probably didn't have anywhere to go but a street corner tonight, but he said that God is with us. How odd. How...true. Janet felt a flicker grow inside her as she entered the hospital.
Bobby was still locked inside his own little world. No one knew what had drawn him inside, and no one knew how to bring him back out. For several weeks he had done nothing but sit in his room, not playing, not watching television. He went through the motions in therapy and crafts, neither smiling nor crying, closed to all the holiday activity going on around him. When Janet came to look in on him, he was sitting cross-legged on his chair, staring at nothing. "Hi, Bobby," Janet said as she began changing his sheets. Bobby simply sat and stared. "Do you know what tomorrow is, Bobby?" Janet asked. There was no reply. Janet continued to talk as she worked. "Tomorrow is Christmas day! Do you know what that means, Bobby?" She wasn't expecting a reply, and she really didn't get much. Bobby simply said, "No." Janet told him, "It means Jesus loves you, Bobby." Janet finished smoothing the sheets and continued on her rounds.
Maybe there wasn't much Bobby could understand from wherever he was, but Janet had said one thing that meant something to him. Bobby understood love. He knew what love was, and he knew that it was a good thing. Janet said that Jesus loves him. Christmas is Jesus loves me. It's good to be loved. It's good that Jesus loves me. I'm glad Jesus loves me. Bobby got up and found his crayons. He started coloring.
When Betty had made the promise years ago she hadn't thought about what it was going to involve. Her nephew Bobby always seemed to be particularly fond of her, and when he finally had to be hospitalized, she had promised to come and visit him every week. She kept her promise, even though on nights like tonight it was such a difficult thing to do. For the last several weeks Bobby had barely even noticed she was there, and having him so withdrawn on Christmas Eve wasn't going to do much to brighten her spirits. Thank heavens her husband Tom had come along tonight - the weather was awful and she was thankful that at least he could deal with the driving tonight.
As they entered Bobby's room, Betty was pleasantly surprised. "Uncle Tom! Aunt Betty, Hi!" Bobby had snapped out of it. He was fairly glowing with that special excitement that it seems only the very young know how to show. He got up from where he had been sitting on the floor, coloring, and ran to give his aunt and uncle a big hug. "Do you know what tomorrow is, Aunt Betty?" Bobby asked. "Why, yes Bobby - tomorrow is Christmas." This was wonderful, Betty thought. He's really alive tonight. Bobby asked her, "Do you know what that means?" Betty smiled and joined in his excitement. "Yes, Bobby. It means that Santa Claus will be coming and there will be presents and a tree and..." "No, no, not that," Bobby said with a giggle. "I mean, yes, there's that, but do you know what else, Aunt Betty? Do you know what else?" Betty was a bit puzzled. What could possibly have gotten him so full of life and excitement tonight? "No, Bobby. What else does it mean?" Bobby said, "It means Jesus loves me!"
Betty wasn't sure exactly what to say. "Why, yes Bobby. Yes, it does mean Jesus loves you, doesn't it?" They talked and played and exchanged gifts; Bobby had knitted her a scarf in crafts. It was big and loose and seemed to have every color of yarn in the rainbow in it. And all through the visit, Betty thought about how the one thing that had brought this little boy out of his shell and back to life - the one spark of light that had overcome his darkness - had nothing to do with all the giving and getting and glitter of the season. The one thing that lit him up was the simplest thing of all, the simple truth at the center of it all: Jesus loves him. How long ago was it that she had forgotten what Christmas is all about?
Several miles beyond the tollbooth Judy had one of those situations she had always dreaded - a sudden sharp pull on the steering wheel and an awful noise and vibration - she had a flat tire. She pulled the car off the side of the road and sat there for a time, trying to shake off the initial scare and figure out what to do. For a while she kept the motor running, hoping that someone would stop and offer to help. It had been years since she changed a tire. Besides that, she had dressed for church - her coat was nice, but certainly not the warmest she owned, and the night was terrible. She looked around the inside of the car. No boots, no gloves, no hat. Maybe someone would stop soon. But the Christmas Eve traffic continued to roar past her as though she didn't even exist. The minutes turned to an hour, and still no one stopped. She turned off the car engine, fearing that she might either overheat the car or suffocate herself. Eventually she decided that it couldn't be any colder outside than it was inside now, so she braced for the weather, opened the door, and got out to assess the situation.
The left rear tire was flatter than a pancake, and she was wrong - it was much colder outside with the wind and snow cutting through her thin coat. I've got to get to this before I start losing the feeling in my fingers, she thought. But just as she moved to the rear of the car to open the trunk, two bright lights turned from the chain of headlights on the freeway and pulled up behind her. Through the headlight glare, she could see only the shadows of two people as car doors opened and they got out. A man and a woman.
The woman approached her. "Hello!" she shouted over the wind and traffic. "Looks like you've had some bad luck." She smiled at Judy. The man was already looking over the flat tire. "Yes, I had a blowout," Judy said. She had been nervous and fearful, but the friendliness of this lady helped her to relax. "Perhaps if you could call a tow truck for me..." Betty began. "I think I can get this for you," the man said as he stood up from where he had been stooping, inspecting her flat. "Do you have a jack and a spare?" "Why, yes," Judy replied. The woman said, "Come and sit in our car with me - you must be freezing. My husband loves to mess with cars; this should only take him a minute." She motioned Judy to join her and took her arm as they stepped carefully through the ice and slush on the side of the highway.
The woman opened the back door for Judy and helped her in. She was thankful for the warmth. The radio was softly playing Christmas carols. The woman got in the front and closed her door, shaking off the snow from her gloves and shoulders. She turned to smile at Judy. "What an awful night to have something like this happen. Why, you must be half frozen to death." She searched around the front seat for a moment, then handed something back to Judy. "Here, wrap this around your hands - it should help you get warm." Judy accepted the scarf the woman handed her. It was big and soft and rainbow colored. "Thank you very much," Judy said as she wrapped her hands in the warm yarn and held them close in her lap. Judy's heart was warming, too. As she talked with this lady, she thought how wonderful it was that there were still a few people in the world who cared. They hadn't chatted for very long when the driver's door opened and her husband jumped back into the car. "All done," he said, as he blew some warmth into his cupped hands. Judy thanked them both profusely as she opened the back door and got out. The woman rolled down her window and continued to talk to her as her husband prepared to pull back out into the Christmas Eve traffic. As they pulled away, the last thing Judy heard her say sounded like an echo. She called out to her, "May the peace of Christ be with you." and the car disappeared into the night.
Judy started her car and carefully pulled out onto the highway. She was several miles down the road before she realized that there was a brightly colored knit scarf draped over her shoulders; she had put it there without thinking when her hands had warmed up. Surely the lady had noticed it, but must have wanted her to keep it. She wears that scarf to every Christmas Eve service she attends now. It reminds her that there are others - strangers to her - who have the light of Christ in their lives. Sometimes she wonders how that light came to them. But she will never know. She will never know.
By Bill McDannell & Jonna Lee O’Dell
Have a wonderful - and peaceful - Holiday.
December 22: I guess I outdid myself today - my second over-twenty mile day and my first since resuming my walk. But the weather was crisp this morning - a slight drizzle very early on that turned into a blanket of clouds through the first half of the day - the way was clear and easy except for the last few miles that saw me picking my way along the interstate proper, as we ran out of frontage road - and before we knew it, we had set a record day. Not only that, but a second straight day without problems of any sort. But I’m bushed tonight and still need to start getting things ready for the approach to Tucson, which now looks like it will be only about 6 days away. By the way, if you’re reading this and you’re from the Tucson area, please get in touch with me by email, either here on the Contact page or at radicalgeezer@gmail.com. I really need to begin making arrangements for accommodations wherever I can find them from near Tucson to well beyond, because Jonna will be leaving to head up to Missouri and I’ll be all by my lonesome.
I’ve been negligent on the photos lately, so here are a few shots from the trail over the past few days:
Nessie on her first morning in the Arizona desert
Not sure exactly where on these next few, but great scenery!
Big sky, purple mountains!
This one I'm sure of - about a mile east of the Mohawk Valley exit
along Frontage Road
Jonna reminds me to tell you about one photo I should have taken but didn’t think of it at the time. We were headed back out of Gila Bend to resume my walk in the morning when we found ourselves following a tour bus. The name of the company was Buffalo Tours. And the bus had a tail. Hanging right off the back end, a tail, about five feet long, of brown vinyl with a mop-like tassel at the end. Neither of us knew quite what to make of it. We still don’t. Jonna has speculated that the bus actually takes people on tours of buffalo herds, and is disguised so that they can sneak up on the buffalo without being noticed. Or not. Very strange.
Just east of Gila Bend I finally entered Saguaro country. There’s cactus, then there’s Cactus. Saguaro is what everyone thinks of when they think of cactus, and you know you’re truly in desert country when you see these huge, unlikely looking monuments of nature poking up out of the desert floor. I didn’t take any pictures today, as the light was waning, but I’m sure I’ll get some off tomorrow. The next many miles are going to be a bit problematic because, as I said, we’ve lost any trace of a frontage road and I’m having to walk along the interstate itself. We’ll have to modify our leapfrog routine and Jonna will just have to pull off wherever she finds a clear spot and wait for me to catch up. We went on ahead after I finished my walk today - we had to, because there wasn’t a turn-around point for at least another dozen miles. Tomorrow will be interesting.
On the current affairs front, Thomas Friedman of the New York Times did an excellent piece in today’s paper, and he’s carried by many other papers around the country. If you can find his column, it’s very worthwhile reading. He offers Mideast Rules to Live By for the OOOO and for anyone else who hasn’t been paying attention. Some of his rules were:
"Civil wars in the Arab world are rarely about ideas — like liberalism vs. communism. They are about which tribe gets to rule. So, yes, Iraq is having a civil war as we once did. But there is no Abe Lincoln in this war. It’s the South vs. the South."
"Mideast civil wars end in one of three ways: a) like the U.S. civil war, with one side vanquishing the other; b) like the Cyprus civil war, with a hard partition and a wall dividing the parties; or c) like the Lebanon civil war, with a soft partition under an iron fist (Syria) that keeps everyone in line. Saddam used to be the iron fist in Iraq. Now it is us. If we don’t want to play that role, Iraq’s civil war will end with A or B."
"The Lebanese historian Kamal Salibi had it right: ‘Great powers should never get involved in the politics of small tribes.’"
There were many others - equally as insightful. Would that our leadership would read them and heed them. If they would, we’d be out of Iraq in a heartbeat.
December 21: Our very first completely glitch-free day since we got back on the road and I took full advantage of it. It’s been pretty cool in the mornings but the weather has been terrific overall - and great for walking. A decent part of today’s walk was through an area where there is no frontage road for interstate 8 so I spent a good deal of the day picking my way through scattered brush on the fringe of the interstate. I was able to maintain a good clip, though, and nearly made twenty miles by the end of the day. Not really too much to see along here, except near the end of the day’s walk when I ducked through the fence on the north side of 8 to walk along a dirt road that parallels the interstate. It turned out that the road ran along a canal - and much to my surprise, there were fish in the canal! Not huge, but certainly pan-sized, and there were plenty of them. It seems that the water comes down from Painted Rock Dam - wherever that is - and I guess the fish come right along with it.
The only glitch we encountered at all today was that early this morning I discovered that the website was offline. A quick, desperate note to tech support and it was back up again, so we lost a few hours online but that was it. I received a concerned call from Sue Haney in Imperial wanting to know if we were alright when she found the website down this morning. I assured her that everything was fine. I neglected to mention when we came back out to resume my walk we stopped by Bob and Sue’s for a few minutes to say hi - and thank them once again for finding us help to move our stuff into storage. It’s nice to know you have good folks concerned for your welfare - I don’t know what we’d do without them.
Jonna continues to recover from her flu and I think a day without anything going wrong helped quite a bit. We continue to figure out Nessie’s systems piece at a time. Jonna says the whole RV thing is some sort of secret club you have to be initiated into before anyone will tell you anything and I’m beginning to believe her. This evening we drove ahead once again to Gila Bend and into an RV park here. I hooked up the electric and started filling the water tank. The water tank was puzzling me because we had filled it only a few days ago and we hadn’t used much, but it seemed to be empty. As I began filling it, I saw that it was draining out the bottom of Nessie as fast as I was putting it in. It was then that I discovered that the valve I had been using to try to start the furnace, thinking it was the LP gas shutoff, was actually the drain valve for our fresh water supply! I told you we didn’t know anything about these beasts. I jumped into Nessie, shut the valve, and now we have a full water tank. One more problem solved. I haven’t tried lighting the furnace again tonight (no, I will not use the fresh water dump valve when I do!), but we did pick up a decent space heater just in case we still can’t get it working.
My feet are doing fine. No blisters yet. There does seem to be a very deep bruise in my right heel, but it bothers me more when I’m not walking than when I am. The thing that usually brings me to a stop each day is when my metatarsals - at least I think that’s what they are - start cramping up on me, especially in my right foot. Then I have to call it a day.
For this evening’s entertainment I have my latest piece of hate mail. Since, as with most, the sender elected not to include an email address, the only way I can reply is here in the Journal. So I thought I’d share what I received - verbatim - and my response. Here’s the email:
"You are a complete idiot and the reason you are really doing this is for the money. I am sure Micheal Moore has given you much. When you are all said and done with your BS then you can by you a new double wide. You are trailer trash. Shame on you. You are a coward. If you think for one minute we can appease these killers then you are one sick soul. God help you. You are no minister. NO WAY. While you are in DC, mkae sure you go to New York and tell all the people there that lost people in the World Trade Center Buildings that we shoudl have done nothing after the murderers killed there loved ones. Nothing at all. Nana. Just forget about it. Yeah right, what a damn fool you are.
You will reap what you sew. Loser !"
My reply:
Dear Whoever,
Doggone, you’re the first one to guess my little secret - I’m doing this for the money! Bwahahahahah! What an ingenious plan! Sell my house and most of my stuff, force my wife into a 26 foot camper along with our two dogs, and spend the better part of a year walking across the country with them in tow. By the time I get to Washington I should be rolling in dough! Just for the record, it’s cost us about a third of the equity we had in our home just to get on the road. While many wonderful people have contributed to what I’m trying to do, donations have not exactly been pouring in - and unless he’s using an alias, Michael Moore has contributed nothing other than the good grace to post my endeavor on his website, and I’ve never had any sort of direct communication with him. Jonna and I are committed to seeing this through all the way, and if it takes everything we made from selling our house, then it does. I’d like to have something left over to start up again when I’m done, though, so we’re hoping that people will continue to support us along the way. And no, I don’t plan on buying a new double wide. Actually, Jonna and I are considering getting a sailboat and living aboard when we’re done.
I may be trailer trash, I suppose, but this trailer trash would like to offer you a bit of assistance:
M-i-c-h-a-e-l
b-u-y
m-a-k-e
s-h-o-u-l-d
t-h-e-i-r
N-a-d-a
s-o-w (in the context you used it)
No need to thank me. Maybe your next hate mail will look a bit better.
On to your other specifics. No, I am not a minister. I used to be, but I am not anymore. My wife used to be one as well, but you probably wouldn’t consider her one either, because she’s - are you ready for this? - Female!
I don’t plan on going to New York, but if I did, I’d probably encounter any number of people whose loved ones were killed in the World Trade Center who are wondering to this day why we are in Iraq rather than Saudi Arabia - the home country of most of the murderers on those planes. And I never suggested doing nothing. I have said that - from the military standpoint - deposing the Taliban was the appropriate thing to do. But we have done that. As far as bringing the people behind 9/11 to justice, I have repeatedly said that what we should have done was to conduct an international manhunt to find them and bring them to civil trial. With the worldwide support we had immediately after 9/11 we could have done that and I truly believe that if we had, Bin Laden and all his cohorts would be either behind bars or rotting in their graves today. But we blew it. Big time. And we still are. And as far as what Iraq has to do with any of this: short answer - nothing. Long answer - Absolutely nothing. I hope you’ll sort that out one day.
Anyway, thanks for your interest. You declare that we’ll reap what we sow. I do hope you’re right. As for me, I’m trying to sow peace - and an end to senseless wars and thoughtless policy. And you?
Peace,
Bill
P.S. Jonna's been doing some reading tonight (as usual). Here's a quote for everyone:
"When the representative body have lost the confidence of their constituents, when they have notoriously made sale of their most valuable rights, when they have assumed to themselves powers which the people never put into their hands, then indeed their continuing in office becomes dangerous to the state, and calls for an exercise of the power of dissolution."
Author: Thomas Jefferson
from a letter to another George - the king of England
December 20: I got in some decent miles today, but both Jonna and I are completely exhausted. She’s feeling a bit better today than yesterday, but the RV learning curve is driving us both ‘round the bend. At the end of today’s walk we discovered that the coach battery had gone dead - again. So we wound up driving another 40 miles up the road to Gila Bend to discover that one lousy switch wasn’t set in the right position, which accounted for the majority of the problems we’ve had lately. It was nice that it didn’t cost us anything but the gas and time, but time is precious right now.
At any rate, we decided to stay in Gila Bend tonight and backtrack tomorrow to Sentinel to resume. That gave me a chance to get the rest of our excess gear stowed up on the roof and get to the laundromat. Driving to Gila Bend also gave me a chance to check out the route, and it looks like the next couple of days are going to involve some walking along the freeway proper, as there doesn’t seem to be any sort of frontage road for about a twenty miles stretch. But right now we’re both worn to a complete frazzle. A good night’s sleep should revitalize us a bit and see me ready to tackle a bunch more miles tomorrow.
P.S. Almost forgot - it seems that some of the emails I'm sending through WTETW have not been getting through to the intended person. If you've emailed me I've almost undoubtedly replied. If you haven't received a reply, please accept my apologies and try emailing me at radicalgeezer@gmail.com
December 19: The first day back on the road unencumbered by mechanical breakdowns or delays...and Jonna comes down with the flu. So it was walk three miles to catch up with her, listen to her groan and snork and sniffle and try to soothe her for a while, then walk three more miles to find her all bundled up in bed again and repeat the procedure. I took some time out and got the first couple of tubs of excess Missouri baggage lashed to the roof this afternoon, then made it back to the Oasis RV Park just east of Dateland as the light was dimming for the day.
I have to say something about these Arizona towns and Mapquest. It started back at Tacna, which Maquest shows as Tanque Aloma. It shows Tacna a few miles north of old US 80. But there it sits, right smack on old US 80, with signs clearly identifying it as such entering town from both east and west. I have no idea where Tanque Aloma is. The next towns shown on Mapquest are Owl and Mohawk. I was unable to find any trace of either one. I suspect there actually is a Mohawk, because we encountered a number of clues that it existed, but no sign of the town itself. As for Owl...nothing.
We were looking forward to getting to Dateland. Take a look at it on Mapquest. Go ahead, I’ll wait. Pretty neat, Huh? A decent sized town with a huge airfield - there have got to be a number of places there where we can pick up supplies. Only one problem - none of it is there! Take a look at the Mapquest aerial view. The runways are apparently there, although you can’t see them from ground level, but none of the rest of it is. The only other thing the aerial view shows is the school just north of Interstate 8...but the street map doesn’t show that. Really weird. What does exist in Dateland is one service station, a gift shop/restaurant, and two RV parks. There’s a True Value hardware about three miles north of town that looks like it’s been closed for about thirty years, and legend has it that there’s a little grocery store wherein one will find the post office - but we couldn’t find either the grocery store or its accompanying post office. Walking through small towns that aren’t there is getting to be sort of a Twilight Zone experience. I’ve been told that if people in Dateland want to shop for anything, the nearest place is Gila Bend - which is another 45 miles or so down the road. Hah. We’ll see if it exists when we get there. Jonna is alternately reading and groaning; the guys have had their romp through the desert for the evening. Time to settle in.
December 18: Well, I wanted to see if I could shoot for at least twenty miles today, but...
Things started out fine. We rousted ourselves from our camping spot just off old route 80 and the guys had a great morning romp over the desert, chasing each other from bush to bush and leaving a trail of dust behind them in the early morning sunlight. It’s a real joy to watch them playing, and being cramped up in Nessie for a good part of the day means that they really unwind when they get the chance. I started up the road and Jonna forged ahead to see what lay before us, hoping to find a spot to get a decent cup of coffee.
I was about two miles into my walk when Jonna called. She had found a restaurant in Dateland, but when she went to leave, Nessie wouldn’t start. Dead. There was a service station next door to her, so all I could think to tell her was to see if she could find someone at the restaurant or the station who could give her a jump so she could get back to my location and we’d see where we went from there. I couldn’t figure it out. David had put two brand new batteries in Nessie before he handed her over to us, and she hadn’t given us a hint of trouble in that area to this point.
Fortunately, Jonna found a nice couple who gave her a jump and even followed her back to the exit to make sure she was alright. When she arrived we headed back into Wellton, where I remembered from Saturday’s Yellow Pages search had an RV service place. In Wellton we discovered, with help from a guy at NAPA, that our alternator was working fine, but the battery was completely dead. Five days old and deceased. Premature, to be sure.
David had purchased the batteries from a store we have not done business with for many, many moons - I won’t mention any names, but it rhymes with Small Part. The nearest one? In Yuma. Back to Yuma, where we discovered that the professionally trained, highly skilled technician who had installed the batteries (both of them) had neglected one small detail - neither of them had their terminals tightened down even finger tight. So neither one had been getting any kind of charge since they had been installed. So we had been running purely on what power they initially had for the past five days. The technician apologized profusely and did what the previous one had neglected to do.
Batteries tightened down and charging up, we headed back to where I left off the walk. Of course, by now most of our daylight had been shot, but I still managed to make ten miles for the day. And instead of trying to deal with any more weirdness today figuring our Nessie’s various systems, we ensconced ourselves in an RV park for the evening where we have electrical power and water at our disposal.
As a final note tonight to any of you who thought merely changing majorities in Congress would make things go away, please note that our new majority leader think it’s OK to send more troops into Iraq. More troops. And maybe - just maybe - we can bring them home some time in 2008. Or not. Meanwhile, Colin Powell, who is slowly showing signs of regaining his senses, tells us that the U.S. of A. does not have enough military personnel to secure Baghdad. Forget Iraq. Not enough military forces to secure Baghdad. But then, that’s pretty much like saying we don’t have enough gasoline to pour on the fire to put it out. When are they going to figure this out? Never - unless we do it for them.
December 17: Did you really think we could get back on the trail without one last delay? Of course not! When we bought Nessie, we were aware that she had several lights out - including both rear running lights - so I figured I’d take an hour early Saturday morning and get the lights replaced before driving to Wellton to resume my walk. What I figured would take an hour wound up taking eight and shooting all of our daylight on Saturday. I was sorely tempted to do my first walking in the dark, but decided against it. To give you an idea of what sort of toll this has all taken on Jonna, she slept fifteen hours straight through after we arrived in Yuma on Friday. So we took one more evening to shake the dust off. The good news is that Nessie has lights all around, plus a new mirror on the driver’s side and new windshield wiper blades.
Early Sunday morning we arrived east of Wellton at last and I resumed my walk. Jonna leapfrogged me by about three miles, waited for me to catch up while she set about organizing Nessie and tending to the guys. I would catch up to her, rest for a bit if necessary, put on or take off a jacket as necessary, and do it all over again. I’m going to get spoiled. Having her along with Nessie for a support vehicle sure made the day a whole lot easier. It means I don’t have to carry anything but the cell phone and GPS. No backpack at all. It’s going to be quite an adjustment when we get near Tucson and Jonna heads up to Missouri - I’ll be back to carrying a full backpack again. Yuck. But for now I’ll enjoy the situation as it is.
With no extra weight, I easily made 11.7 miles today. I could have done more, but we had to stop while we still had some daylight and take some time figuring our Nessie’s various systems. As I said before, we’ve had zero experience with motorhomes, so this is all brand new to us. I had to figure out how to get the generator running, how to get the heater working, how to get the LP gas flowing, how to get the oven lit, how to get the coach batteries on line and on and on. Most of it turned out not to be too difficult, although much of it doesn’t work precisely as indicated in the manuals. The one we had the biggest difficulty with was the heater - or furnace. We couldn’t even find it. After turning a few valves that seemed similar to what the manual described but looked absolutely nothing like the diagrams, we suddenly had heat coming from the floor vents. After quickly ascertaining that we had not inadvertently set Nessie on fire, we breathed a sigh of relief - and settled in for our first home-cooked meal in our new home. We never did figure out how to get the oven pilot light lit, but we didn’t need to use the oven, so that was OK for now. We also didn’t have to mess with the water heater or toilet systems, as the bathroom area is filled with boxes right now and essentially useless for a while.
So here we are, nestled in for the evening in the middle of the Arizona desert, and feeling wonderful to be back on track at last. Spoof is missing his crate. Shelties are denning dogs - for the first several months we had Finn, he slept behind the toilet in our bathroom - until the little moosebutt got so big that he couldn’t squeeze himself in there any more, and he pretty much gave up the whole denning thing. But Spoof got used to his wire crate while we were house training him and he slept in our bedroom in it, and still prefers to sleep in his crate. Trouble is, there isn’t room inside Nessie to set up his crate, so for tonight he’s discovered the confined space under the dining table and seems content there. Both the guys are adjusting to all the new sights, sounds, smells and experiences of their new home, and I think they’re doing pretty well.
For her part, Jonna seems to be adjusting quite well to driving Nessie. Of course, the road is flat as a pancake and straight as an arrow, so it’s a great place to break yourself in gently. And Nessie has behaved herself admirably. With all the chaos of getting back on the road behind us, the only worry I have tonight is how much LP gas we have available, since I haven’t yet figured out how to check either it or the water levels. We’ll fill up tomorrow if we find a place where we can do that, and maybe someone will be able to tell me how to know how much I’ve got.
Resuming the walk was a wonderful experience. A flotilla of clouds drifted silently overhead throughout the day, like stately ships sliding into harbor. The air was crisp but not cold, and just at that juncture that made me debate whether or not to wear a jacket. I alternated each time I caught up with Jonna, and that seemed to work fine. By the end of the walk my feet were beginning to burn just a little, but they recovered nicely and should be just fine for tomorrow. The additional day’s delay removed all possibility of making Tucson by Christmas, so we’ll be celebrating by ourselves somewhere a bit west of there next week. We even have a small box of decorations we’ll be digging out tomorrow so we can spruce up the place (bad pun intended) for a holiday season that came very close to passing us by completely.
December 15: Just between you and me...WE’RE ON THE ROAD!!! Jonna made the observation that the past few weeks have been something like walking in deep sands; we knew where we were going, we were headed in that direction, but it seemed like every inch forward took about ten time the effort it should take and sometimes it just felt like we weren’t making any progress at all, even though we kept on trying. Well, we’re out of the deep sand and onto hard pavement now, and it feels great. Of course, it wasn’t without one more day’s delay. When I went to file the papers in small claims court against the guy who sold us the first motorhome I went to the El Cajon courthouse, only to discover that I should file with the Chula Vista courthouse - one of the incoveniences of living in a county that is larger than a number of states. By the time I had gotten around to that step there wasn’t enough time left to get to Chula Vista, so we had to remain in Lakeside overnight to get the papers filed the next morning.
That was OK, because it gave us a chance to visit with our daughter, Kari and our oldest granddaughter and grandson another time before we left. Maybe I shouldn’t share such personal family information with the world, but it’s part of what we’re going through: we have been more than a bit confused and upset by the lack of participation by our daughter and her husband during the past few weeks, and last night we gained some understanding. Kari had a talk with Jonna and told her that it was the only way she was able to cope with it - if they weren’t there to see the moving van and the boxes and the empty house, then it wasn’t happening. They shared a good cry and a wound was healed. I’m glad I wasn’t there right then, because I’ve been operating on automatic in the emotional department for a while now, and I’m not sure I could have taken it.
An empty living room (the TV stays)
A barren bedroom
A cleaned-out kitchen
We had already deflated the air mattress and packed it before we knew we were going to have to be there yet one more night, so we spent the first night in our new home, which we have christened "Nessie". I’m not sure why, but it seems to fit. I can’t say it was very comfortable, but that’s because I had two very confused dogs sleeping right on top of me and couldn’t move all night long. Finn and Spoof are taking it all quite well, but it’s too bad you can’t explain things clearly to a dog - all you can do is keep on reassuring them that everything’s going to be alright and try to make it fun for them as much as possible.
Our old and new homes - side by side
We got out this morning, trying very, very hard to look forward rather than backward in order to get through this without completely falling apart. We had breakfast with Kari and the kids and exchanged a couple of Christmas presents. Kari gave me a hippopotamus. We’ve been giving each other hippopotami ever since she was in her pre-teens, when she discovered the song, "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas". It’s become a fairly goofy Christmas tradition which has put us both on a more or less continual alert for new and unusual hippopotami to lay on each other. This year she gave me a mini-hippo, carved from soapstone. I expect he’ll be gracing Nessie’s dashboard.
The world of motorhomes is brand new to us, and before David delivered Nessie to us yesterday, he did a walk-around with us, starting behind the driver’s side door, explaining the various systems to us. Before he made it to the rear bumper we were both totally and hopelessly lost. We’ll be doing a lot of reading of manuals and probably more than a few tech support calls back to David to figure this all out.
I have been intensely concerned because I’m aware that weight and weight distribution are critical to a motorhome - and we were packing Nessie to the gills. Not only are we trying to condense about 1800 square feet of living space down to about 250, but for the initial part of the trip we have boxes and boxes of books and clothes and other stuff that are going to be dropped off at our daughter Becky’s place in Missouri. It was with great relief that I discovered that Nessie handled the mountains east of San Diego (and the accompanying forceful winds) with aplomb. She didn’t exactly zip up the mountainside, but she hummed along smoothly and gave us no cause for alarm.
We wanted desperately to get back to Wellton today and at least put in a few miles of the walk just for the symbolism of the official resumption, but the past few days have completely drained what little emotional (and physical) energy we had left, so we’ve stopped in Yuma for the evening to get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow, after way too long of a delay and more crises and weirdness than either of us could ever have imagined or anticipated, the walk resumes.
December 13: If I wasn’t living through this I would think it was some sort of bizarre soap opera. Since my last entry I have had the opportunity to reassess my assumption that the people who sold us the motorhome were honest. I picked it up the yesterday morning and it appeared that he had fixed the alternator problem. But when I got it on the freeway I found that it would not maintain highway speeds on an uphill grade - in fact, not even on a level road. And this was with the vehicle completely empty. It was clear that it would never get us over the mountains east of San Diego when it was fully loaded. Then I took it to get the required smog test. The technician informed me that the exhaust system was so full of holes that he couldn’t even take a sample, and that the entire exhaust system would have to be replaced before he could even test it.
That was it. I called the seller to let him know that it was time to refund my purchase price. Nobody answered all evening, so I left messages. The DMV informed me that I have not legally taken possession of a vehicle until I file the appropriate paperwork with them, which I did not do. This morning I still got no answer on the phone, so I drove the motorhome down to the owner’s place and left it. It appeared there was nobody home.
Jonna and I mulled over what to do. It was clear that, despite everything the seller said, that vehicle would never be able to get us across the country without a considerable investment of both money and time. Since we sold the house, I do have enough money to pour into it...but I do not have the time. We did the only thing we could think of. We bought another motorhome.
Now, before you decide that we’re completely crazy and world class fools, I want to say something. Jonna and I live our lives on the basis of trust. We trust other people to treat us fairly, we trust other people to be honest with us, we trust other people to do the right thing. Most often, our trust is rewarded and we form solid relationships and lasting friendships with the people we meet. Sometimes we run across someone who turns out to be untrustworthy, and who doesn’t seem to understand the concept of doing the right thing. But here’s a decision we made a long, long time ago. We absolutely refuse to permit other people to determine who we are going to be. It’s a choice all of us make on a daily basis - we will either define who we are for ourselves, or we will allow other people to define who we are. If, because we occasionally encounter people who are unable to live up to our expectations - sometimes in big ways - we consequently become suspicious, wary people, we have permitted those few persons to determine the kind of people we are. And we will not let that happen. We choose to continue to live in - and thus, we hope, build - a world where people treat each other with respect, courtesy and honesty. The fact that we are sometimes burned will not alter that. That’s it.
The seller finally called me back this afternoon, repeating his contention that we bought the motorhome on an "as is" basis and that he had no intention of returning our money. I told him, as I had in the phone messages, that despite his contention, we bought it based on his absolute assurances that it was fully roadworthy - which it clearly was not - and that all I wanted was the return of the purchase price; I wasn’t even asking to be reimbursed for the towing or for the lost time. I even tried to speak to his common decency - I told him that he knew what the right thing to do was and that he really ought to consider doing it. As of tonight, he continues to refuse.
I am at a loss to understand his position. If he simply returns what we paid him, he is out nothing. He has the vehicle. It is still registered to him. It even has a full tank of gas. If he does not, I have no choice but to take him to court, and despite his "as is" mantra, I find it hard to believe that any judge, confronted with the facts, will come to any other conclusion than that we have been defrauded. And when we take it to court, I’ll also be seeking to be reimbursed for the towing and the lost time involved. I continue to hope that he knows someone with a modicum of sense who will help him see the light. Meanwhile, I’ve discussed the situation with my son tonight, who is an attorney. Tomorrow morning I’ll be filing the papers in small claims court.
Meanwhile, our new motorhome should be here bright and early tomorrow morning and we’ll be able to load it and get out of here by tomorrow afternoon. Unless this guy comes to his senses, it will mean I’ll have to take a short break at some point to return to appear in court. And we will either have our money returned to us or be out five thousand dollars. But my walk will continue. Nothing - nothing - is going to stop us.
December 11: WE CLOSED! Hoorayhoorayhoorayhoorayhooray! Rich delivered the check into our hot, anxious little hands today and for the first time in two weeks we could breathe a HUGE sigh of relief.
Of course, I don’t think it is possible for us to have a day that is entirely good news. This evening we drove down to purchase the motorhome that will be our home for nearly the next year. I hopped in and began driving home - and got less than fifteen miles when it died on me. To say I was not happy would be a classic understatement. The seller, of course, had assured us that everything on the vehicle worked just fine and that it was ready to immediately start the trek across country. Across the country? I didn’t even come close to making it across the county! Naturally it had died on a busy thoroughfare, and when I was unable to get it started, the Patrolman who had happened by called a towing service, which charged us $190(!) To move it three blocks to a side street where I could park it. From there I called the seller and told him that I expected him to come and make this right this evening or bring my money back to me.
When he arrived, he discovered that the motorhome had thrown its alternator belt which wound up draining both batteries. I left it with him, with his promise that he’d have everything fixed early tomorrow morning. I told him I also felt that he should be responsible for the towing bill, which he didn’t seem too keen on, but I think it’s only fair. I’ve had some time to cool off since this happened and I do think he’s an honest guy. We’ll see what transpires in the morning. Jonna and I agreed that if we can get this worked out to our satisfaction, at the earliest opportunity we’re going to have a thorough checkup done on the motorhome so we don’t wind up with any more little surprises.
But this means - yep - yet one more day’s delay in getting back to my walk. I had hoped to be east of Wellton, Arizona early tomorrow morning, but since we haven’t had the motorhome here to load and prepare today, it looks like Wednesday will be the earliest we can start. Hang in there with me. There has to be an end to the craziness at some point.
We can’t let that setback ruin our day, though. And we did have one more very good bit of news for the day. We received the first acknowledgment of our existence from a member of Congress today. It was brief, but it means a lot to us. Here it is:
Dear Bill:
Thank you very much for contacting me regarding your walk across America. I appreciated hearing from you.
I commend you on your courageous undertaking. The passion you demonstrate will serve as an inspiration to many people. Best of luck on your journey!
Sincerely,
Dennis J. Kucinich
Member of Congress
How about that? We feel good.
December 10: We haven’t exactly been sitting around twiddling our thumbs during this additional weekend delay - we’ve been doing quite a bit of cleaning up and re-sorting what we plan to take along in the motorhome. We also checked in on the motorhome we’ve had our eye on and it’s still available, so we hope we’ll be able to get it tomorrow. Trouble is, between the stuff we want to take along for the trip and the stuff we want to take back to our daughter Becky in Missouri, it needs to be about 18 feet longer than it is. Somehow we’ll be able to cram everything in there...or on top of it...or hanging from the back.
Thanks to Bobby Compton I now have some great gear to help on the trip. Bill Foote had earlier contributed some very valuable stuff, but I hadn’t yet had a chance to look into either wet or cold weather gear - remember, I’ve become a southern Californian. I’ve also become concerned anew about weight, as Jonna will be leaving right before Tucson to spend some time with Becky and her sister over the holidays, which means I’ll be on my own through the rest of Arizona and probably a good part of New Mexico. Not sure what I’ll do about the computer yet, but I know I’ll have to pack as light as possible for that stretch because I’ll have to be carrying everything with me. At the same time, I’m going to have to be prepared for whatever weather comes at me, and also for the possibility of having no accommodations available. It’s going to be very interesting.
I’m hearing rumblings that there are numerous people beginning to work on letting Tucson know I’m on my way and that’s great. Maybe Tucson will be where we begin getting more than just local attention. I hope so, because every day’s news convinces me more and more that we are not going to see an end to the madness until the people of our nation speak up very loudly and clearly. I see only a search for "graceful" exits that will stretch on indefinitely. Seems very few of our elected leaders are willing to go so far as to admit this has been nothing short of a catastrophic blunder and end it quickly - quickly being a relative term, of course. They just don’t seem to get it. I think we’re going to have to help them.
December 8: It’s been a day of thoroughly mixed results; some very, very good - others, um, not so much. First, on the good side:
With some very selfless and precious help from Rich and Ann, we finally got the rest of the moving van loaded yesterday. Then, in an absolute stroke of genius, Jonna suggested that we go ahead and run the van over to El Centro that evening, take a room for the night, and wake up ready to load everything into the storage locker in the morning. I was too wasted to think of it myself, and even though I know Jonna’s just as fried as I am, at least she still had a few brain cells able to function and we did exactly what she had suggested. We spent the night in a comfortable room with the guys rather than on an air mattress in an empty house and were fresh for - if not exactly looking forward to - the morning.
When we arrived at the storage lockers I still had the gnawing doubt that we were going to be able to fit everything into the locker we had rented. We had wanted a ten by twenty foot locker, but the largest they had was a ten by fifteen. On a whim and a hope, I called the office when we arrived and asked if they might have had a larger one become available in the week since I rented the locker. They said that they did indeed have a larger one available now, and I dashed over to sign the necessary paperwork to move to the larger locker.
We had called Bob and Sue Haney on Tuesday to see if they might be able to round up some help to unload things into the storage shed and they said they’d try. Before we could open the moving van, Bob pulled up with Juan and Terry aboard - volunteers from the local Salvation Army. Terry basically took charge of packing the locker, while Juan worked like a pack mule. Bob pitched in enthusiastically as well. The end result was that the moving van that took us fifteen hours to load took a bit less than an hour and forty-five minutes to unload and pack away. Terry’s eye was masterful - everything fit beautifully and we even have a bit of space left to toss a few more boxes in that we may have as we finally head out of town again to resume my walk. And Jonna didn’t have to lift a finger. She spent the time with our guys - and since the storage locker area was securely fenced, she let Finn and Spoof off their leashes and they had a grand time chasing each other all over the property, something they’ve had very little ability to do lately.
After far too inadequate expressions of gratitude to Bob, Terry and Juan we were headed back over the mountains to return the moving van well before noon. With the van returned we made it back to the house to face the remaining cleanup...and the only bummer of the day. Unfortunately, the bummer is a major one. We had originally been scheduled to close on the house on Wednesday which, due to some less than satisfactory performance on the other end of the deal, got pushed back to Thursday, then to today. You guessed it. It didn’t happen today. Which means that the earliest we can now close is Monday. Which means that the earliest I can resume my walk is Tuesday. I could scream. As a matter of fact, I did. Several times. But not as loudly as Jonna, and just a little bit louder than Rich and Ann. Things had been going so well that I had really hoped they would continue and I would be back in Arizona and walking again tomorrow. Three more very long, very aggravating days.
Well, at least there was more good news to come. We received word of a very substantial contribution coming our way from a supporter who wishes to remain anonymous, and with contributions having fallen off significantly during this forced hiatus that was extremely welcome news. Then our neighbors, Dolly and her son Greg, took us out for dinner tonight, and we returned home and collapsed once again. Dolly will soon turn 97 and she is worried about me. She’s not exactly sure what it is that I’m doing, but she knows I’m trying to end the war, and that is good enough. We will miss Dolly sorely.
Speaking of that, it is with irony that Jonna and I have observed that, after six years of living in San Diego, it is just as we’re leaving that we are meeting and making the most wonderful friends. A good part of that is our own fault. To be honest, when we left the ministry what we wanted more than anything else was just to be left alone for a while. We were more than tired of the social, spiritual and psychic conflict that was the inevitable result of being two extremely progressive pastors serving churches populated primarily with extremely conservative parishioners. We pretty much intentionally withdrew into our own companionship - which has proven to be never less than wonderful, but still left us with precious little in the way of outside support. And now we are meeting so many people that we already consider to be dear friends - and we are leaving them to do what we must do. But it does mean that we now have more reason to return than simply the fact that part of our family is here.
And now, in a closely related vein, for a first in my Journal - a commercial! If you are considering buying or selling a home in the San Diego area, Jonna and I can assure you with complete confidence that you will find no better (or even anywhere close) Realtors than Ann and Rich Wright of Welcome Homes. Ann and Rich have not gone the extra mile for us, they have gone light years. As we have faced what we feared was certain disaster, they have been there to console and support us and find a way through it for us. They have helped us with the painting, the packing, the loading. Ann has made us dinners and brought them to the house (and she’s a great cook!). She distributed flyers throughout the neighborhood advertising our Jeep and our moving sale. To say that they have done far more than anyone could expect of an agent would be to demean them with faint praise. And in the process they have become true and fast friends. The present difficulties in finalizing things are in no way their fault and they are just as disconcerted about it as we are. But I just wanted everyone who reads this to know that if you would like to do business with two truly extraordinary people, you really must make a point of getting in touch with Rich and Ann.
December 7: I received an email last night that I wanted to share with everyone. Before I do, I want to sincerely thank the sender. It has been my fear for the past couple of weeks that there are people out there thinking what this person is thinking, and the receipt of the email affords me the opportunity to address the concern, so whoever you are, I am truly glad you wrote. That said, here is the email, verbatim, followed by my reply:
"A concerned supporter
Bill, I have been an avid reader of the journal almost daily and have made many phone calls alerting the press as you make your way across the US, but I have a concern about the progress of the walk, It seems like the walk has been constantly interupted by the sale of personal items and other events, to be honest I was under the impression of you walking the entire distance without so many trips back home. I am trying to say this as nicely as possible because I admire and support your efforts, I realize what a challenge it is to do what your are doing, and I know that I couldnt do it. I am sure having a wonderful partner like Jonna has made it better, but I cant help but wondering why there are so many interuptions for your walk. Please understand that I will continue to support you with phone calls and prayers. What you are doing is greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
Supporter"
Dear Supporter: again, thank you for writing. While I fully understand your concern, I would first like to clear up a little misperception you seem to have acquired. Since I began my walk on November 4th, there have been only two interruptions to my walk. The first was a single day, and I will take a day or two off occasionally as I continue my walk, either to attend some speaking engagement or simply to let my feet have a break. But in terms of any real break to my walk, there has been only one. It was necessary for me to return home to pack our belongings, get them into storage, close on our house, sell our car, purchase a motorhome and do all the many other things associated with closing on a home and moving. It has unfortunately taken longer than I hoped to get this all done, but please believe me when I say that there has been nothing I could do to make it go any faster.
Jonna and I had actually expected that the whole process would result in several shorter breaks in my walk - one when we sold our house, one to pack, one to move, one to close on the house - and who knows what else. But the house sold as soon as we put it on the market, and I guess this is better, because when we’re done with this break there will quite literally be nothing to come back to. So we wind up with one frustratingly long break rather than a series of frustrating breaks.
I’m not sure how your misperception arose - you can see on the Route page daily progress from November 4th until the beginning of this break, so it should be clear that there has only been one interruption to my walk. And I’ve tried to keep everyone abreast of exactly what’s going on in the Journal. If you’ve ever sold a house, you’ll know that it can be an unbelievably long process - we’re actually getting this accomplished in an extremely short time span. And if you’re wondering about why we sold our house at such an inopportune time, the answer is quite simple. We’re going to have to continue to pay our bills somehow while I’m walking, and neither Jonna nor I will have an income of any kind. While we have received donations from many individuals and are truly grateful for each and every one, it has not been enough to meet our needs, so it was necessary for us to sell our house to finance this. Perhaps greater financial support will come as my walk progresses - we certainly hope so - but we couldn’t sit back and just expect that to happen. We had to make sure that when I began this walk we would be in a position that would allow me to complete it. As of this afternoon, when we are scheduled to close, that should be accomplished.
Finally, I assure you that no one is more upset than myself at the amount of time I’ve had to take from the walk to get this all done. I have the consolation of knowing that it means there will be no more interruptions down the road, but that is small consolation to me when I have been so focused on this and I believe it is so crucial. So I ask you to please continue to support my effort to stop this insanity. I covet your support and whatever efforts you can make to let others know what I’m doing so that when I arrive in Washington we will have as many voices as possible joined together to tell our leadership this has to stop - and it has to stop now.
********
Jonna and I picked up the moving van yesterday afternoon and began loading. I discovered, as Jonna puts it, that I’m not 30 anymore. We had one person (thank you, Andrew!) Show up to help, but he could only stay about an hour and a half. Later in the evening, our neighbor, Greg, helped for a bit. But beyond that, it was up to Jonna and myself to get this beast loaded, with the intention of driving it to El Centro early this morning to unload everything into storage. I worked until two thirty in the morning and finally hit the wall. There wasn’t much left to do, but I realized that I could not get it done and be in any shape to drive the van over the mountains, unload it, and return as planned. So we crashed. It will require keeping the van for an extra day and moving it over tomorrow morning rather than today, but my body just would not cooperate any longer. At least this way I can take my time finishing it up today and be here when the realtor calls to close on the house. We’ll also be able to get the motorhome today - if it hasn’t been sold out from under us - and get it loaded, as well as close down a few other things like the landline phone and such. So we’re shooting for being back on the road by Saturday now, and I don’t see any other complexities arising that would keep that from happening. We also have a cell phone connection for the computer now, which means that while I’m walking we won’t have to be searching for hot spots to get online and update the journal and check emails and such - if we are in a place where we can get a cell phone signal, we will also be able to get online. Pretty neat. Time to go load the last of our stuff.
December 5: I think we may have found a vehicle for Jonna today. It’s old, but it seems to be in good shape. Now, if nobody buys it out from under us before we close on the house. Closing is supposed to be Thursday, so I’ve got a couple of days ahead where we’re really going to be scrambling. Finish what’s left of the packing tomorrow morning, get the moving van tomorrow afternoon, load the van tomorrow evening, drive it to El Centro and unload Thursday morning, bring the van back here, close on the house, buy the RV, and load it up Thursday evening. Can we do all that? We’re going to try. If we can, it will mean I can resume the walk on Friday. If anything gets delayed, I’ll probably still be able to resume the walk by Saturday. It’s only been a few days more than I had anticipated, but it seems like an eternity. This isn’t all over yet folks, so keep your good thoughts coming our way for the next couple of days. When it’s all accomplished I’ll be able to explain more fully. But for tonight I’m going to get a bunch of rest because I’m going to need it to get through the next two days.
December 3: I was reading an article in today’s San Diego Union Tribune about the recent visit by the Opportunist Occupying the Oval Office (the OOOO) to Vietnam - and the severe religious persecution going on in Vietnam at this time. The author, a Mr. Mike Benge, was writing about a Vietnamese-American U.S. citizen by the name of Cuc Foshee who until recently had been held in a Vietnamese prison for over a year on unspecified charges. In the course of describing Mr. Foshee’s plight, Mr. Benge writes, "What is one government’s terrorist, is another’s freedom and democracy fighter."
I immediately wondered whether Mr. Benge would have the intestinal fortitude to take this concise, relevant insight, lift it from his article about Vietnam, and drop it verbatim into an article about the present situation in Iraq. Could it be that his insight is applicable to more than the situation in Vietnam? Could it be that his insight might be true no matter who it is who is brandishing the label "terrorist"? Could it be that if it is the United States that is labeling a given individual a terrorist, there might be another legitimate entity - an entity deeply immersed in the situation - that might label that same individual a freedom fighter?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that all terrorists are freedom fighters. This would be as ridiculous as saying that both sides in any war are always right and just in their cause. What I am saying is that as a country we are, perhaps not uniquely, but nevertheless quite consistently blind to the reality that we are not the sole possessors of wisdom, moral rectitude or ethical righteousness on the planet. Moreover, our nationalistic egotism, which has throughout our history been the chronic cause of regrettable and completely avoidable conflicts with a variety of nations and cultures has, over the past six years, degenerated further into pre-schoolyard posturing driven by sloganeering and fueled by national outrage that is turning us into bigots, bullies and fools.
In my rationale, presented on the home page of the website, I say about the "war" on terrorism: "It is instead an effort to prevent terrorist activities, to locate and eliminate those individuals or groups who engage in such activities, to dissuade any and all nations from harboring or abetting such groups and to keep not only our country but countries around the world safe from such activities." That is a mis-statement. It does not characterize what we are doing about terrorism at all. It does characterize what we should be doing about terrorism - if we were not so caught up in our own self-righteousness and our pathetic need to find some justification for our unjustifiable military adventurism. In a time when we should be attempting to communicate with different peoples and cultures more fervently than ever, we have a leadership that refuses to communicate at all with those nations perceived as threats or enemies. One does not have to be any sort of deep thinker to figure out that this stance cannot possibly produce any positive results.
I once had a co-worker who made an astute observation about traffic accidents. He said that for every minute it took to clear a freeway traffic accident, the rest of the traffic on the freeway would be delayed by ten minutes. Our foreign policy has been a six-year wreck. Do the math. Our grandchildren - and their grandchildren - cannot wait for us to begin clearing up this mess, and that’s why we have to stop it now.
I deeply regret the time I have had to take away from my walk for many reasons. But chief among them is the fact that it will mean it will take me that much longer to reach Washington D.C. And my grandchildren cannot afford the delay. I already sense that many of those who are thoroughly fed up with the insanity of the past five years are now beginning to sit back complacently and see what effect the mid-term changes in Congress will produce. We cannot afford complacency - or patience.
Ending the wars will not solve the problem. Bringing our sons and daughters home will not solve the problem. Restoring the civil liberties and freedoms that we’ve allowed to be stripped from us will not solve the problem. But it will be a start. A necessary start. From there, our next course of action will be one perhaps unprecedented in our history - we will need to actually learn from our mistakes. What a concept! We will have to learn that those who mouth such culturally and logically ignorant phrases as "They hate our freedom" are charlatans of the worst kind, intent on emotionally manipulating us into conflict. We will have to learn that war always means that we have failed. One of my dear supporters wrote to me a while back, telling of an ancient civilization that, the evening before its soldiers went into battle, went into a ritual of deep mourning - not only for their own sons they knew would not return from the battle, but for the sons and families of their enemy who would die in the conflict. That civilization was way ahead of us in recognizing the meaning of war. It is always a failure, and it is always an action that should be accompanied by deep grief and yes, shame. We need to learn that.
Think of the money we are spending in our current direction in Iraq. Think of what we could achieve if we were spending that amount of money on actually seeking to rid the world of terrorism. Did you ever try to rid your lawn of dandelions by plucking the yellow blossoms as they opened? Did it work? Do you think there is any real way to address the problem of terrorism other than identifying its roots and working there to stop it? How much time and effort are we devoting to that approach? For that matter, what are the roots of terrorism? That one I can answer for you - at least in part. Poverty. Ignorance. Cultural and political misunderstanding. Prejudice. Misguided zealotry. And I can tell you something that should be patently obvious by now - not only are we not addressing those problems now, but we are in fact encouraging many of them. When we get a handle on that and begin to turn the situation around, we will finally be clearing away the wreck. Your grandchildren’s grandchildren are crying out to you to do something about it - now. Listen to them.
December 2: About an hour’s worth of painting to go and a bunch of boxes to pack and we’ll be ready to get out of here. For those who have volunteered to help load our moving van, I’ll be picking up the van on Wednesday and loading Wednesday evening - any time after about 4 p.m. I’ll drive the van to El Centro Thursday morning, unload it into storage, and return. Then, if all goes well (well, if something goes well, at this point), I’ll be able to resume the walk in Arizona on Friday. There are still some crucial things up in the air, but they should be resolved during the coming week - one way or the other. Please continue to keep us in your thoughts - we need all the good karma we can get.
Even though we’ve been forced to take this break, the website continues to go strong. There was not a single day in November that we did not have more than one hundred unique visitors to the site, and we had well over six thousand visitors for the month. I’ve also managed to add a new feature to the website. Actually, it’s not new - it was on Jackie Wagner’s Protest Is Patriotism site, but her site is currently down for an indefinite period - so I managed to link to the site where she was collecting those who may be interested in providing accommodations for me along the way. You’ll find the new link on the Support and Contact page. I’ve also been wanting to include a visual depiction of the route on the Rote page, but haven’t found the time yet to explore the possibilities there. Many of you have made suggestions about improvements to the site and I appreciate them all. My expertise (or lack thereof) prohibits me from implementing all the great ideas I receive right away, but keep them coming!
Back to packing...
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