A couple of the musicians asked Morishita if the band could join us for the walk to city hall. Morishita said that he was grateful for their support. So we walked the final five together, the monks and most of the peace walkers in the front of the march, beating drums and chanting. Behind us came the street musicians, playing their drums and trumpets, and a chorus clapping and singing. Mercury was trying to conduct the street musicians so that their music was in time with the chant.

Morishita definitely looked confused. He had no idea that this was going to be happening. The character of the march had definitely changed and it was no longer a Buddhist prayer for peace. But we were well received as we walked through the poorer neighborhoods. Everywhere, people were running out to watch us and to get our literature.

We got to the city hall shortly before noon. We waited outside where we were to have been greeted by the mayor. After about fifteen minutes, we were invited into the city hall where we were received.

Mayor Marsh, a young black man, told us that he was a good friend of the mayor of New Orleans. In his brief talk to us, he made only passing references to disarmament or the UN, but he gave us all sun visors and invited us to tour his beautiful city. He closed his welcoming remarks with this question: "I want to know how you got so many beautiful women to join you?" This was followed by dead silence. Then Carole answered in a firm voice that women were interested in peace also. Marsh then exited.

Most of us, except the monks, put on our sun visors and took the elevator to the top floor where we tried to find a landmark that Marsh had just told us about. Most of the rest of the day was spent in just waiting.

   April 28, Rest day #1 in Richmond
This, the first of our four rest days in Richmond, was unusually cold and windy, but what a flurry of activity!

Today General Electric held its annual stockholders meeting at the John Madison Hotel in downtown Richmond. The Brandywine Community from Philadelphia had set up a picket line outside the hotel to hand entering stockholders a leaflet asking the company to stop making parts for nuclear weapons systems. Highlighted as especially offensive was the production of the guidance system for the Mark XII-A missile. Brandywine displayed a unique possession -- the nose cone of a Mark XII-A missile built by G.E. -- which they found in the garbage behind the G.E. plant in Philadelphia. The people from the peace walk stood outside the hotel in the almost wintry weather. (I'd left my heavy clothes in Durham.)

The monks prayed while the rest of us handed out leaflets. We also tried to talk to the stockholders as they left their limos and made a mad rush to the hotel. Most refused our literature. Maybe they knew that we'd altered GE's familiar slogan to "G.E. brings the bomb to life."

Brandywine had asked sympathetic people who held GE stock to give them their proxies. This meant some Brandywine people could enter the meeting and have the right to be heard. From time to time one would come out to let us know what was happening on the floor. Conflict began with the opening prayer. A local Presbyterian minister asked God to "Quieten the strident voices of dissent outside. He concluded with the petition that "The corporate will be done." Immediately after the prayer, a woman from Brandywine stood and said, "That is the most blasphemous thing I have ever heard." Then she walked out of the meeting.

Throughout the two-hour business meeting, protesters were interrupting with questions like, "When is GE going to stop making systems for nuiclear weapons?" A resolution to this effect was finally introduced, debated, and defeated.

The media were outside interviewing the protesters, the stockholders, and passersby. I heard the interview with one stockholder in a fur coat. Asked what she thought of the protesters, she replied,

"They're weird."

"What do you mean, they're weird?"

"They are dressed weird,"

"They are Buddhist monks from Japan."

"I don't know. It is my opinion that they are weird."

The GE meeting was going to recess for lunch between noon and l:00 o'clock. We took the same hour for our lunch at the soup kitchen at St. Paul's Church, where we had a chance to talk with John Machino, who was to be our coordinator from DC to NYC.

John said that Pamela had called him last night and asked him to meet with us today. She was concerned about two things. The first, and of relatively minor consequence, was the fact that not all of us attended a noon meal that had been prepared for us at Virginia Beach.

The second, and of major consequence, was Pamela's demand that Sam leave the walk. She considered Sam's presence to be a serious threat to the walk for several reasons. His language and behavior were violent. The first night he had demonstrated to one of Langdon's sons how to kill a person with your bare hands. He had no commitment to non-violence, by his own admission. No one knew anything about him. He had lied to us about the name of his commanding officer. Pamela had checked that out. He had carried a weapon while on the walk. He had volunteered this information himself and had voluntarily surrendered the knife to Morishita. Pamela further said he was an embarrassment to the peace walk. He took part in the programs like a recently converted zealot. Yet he really knew nothing, in his heart or in his mind, about what it meant to be a pacifist. This was immediately evident, and people were complaining to Pamela about his presence. Soon Sam would no longer be UA (Unauthorized Absence) and would be a deserter. This would mean that people who hosted him at night could, conceivably, be charged with a crime. Pamela was also concerned that he might even be an agent provocateur. She had a long list.

For ourselves, we were reluctant to ask him to leave. After all, he was someone who had left the Navy to join the peace walk. If we abandoned Sam, what would this say about the peace movement's commitment to other young men who had left the military? Sam was aware of the controversy and asked that we hold a meeting to discuss the matter.

But first, we had to return to the hotel to complete a half-hour vigil at the GE meeting. The police were more in evidence this afternoon. It seemed that they really desired a confrontation with us. We had a permit for the vigil, yet they would push each protester aside if, in their opinion, he or she was blocking the view of the merchandise in a display window. "These merchants have the right for their display to be seen." How can one argue with such inalienable rights?

At 1:30 we ended the vigil and walked the short distance to the Richmond Peace Education Center where we immediately began the meeting which Sam had called. John had to return to work in DC, but he remained long enough to again express Pamela's concerns. (He was much more solemn today than when we knew him in Georgia. No one remembered seeing him laugh today.)

Our meeting lasted two and a half hours. At times emotions ran high. After about ninety minutes of discussions, we went around the circle and everyone gave their opinion. As often happened, opinions and views were not necessarily restricted to the subject at hand. But somehow, we finally managed to end the meeting with good feelings. It was decided that, for now, Sam would be allowed to stay. I was gratified to hear Mercury say that we had made the mistake of kicking walkers off the walk in Alabama and should not be so quick to repeat that mistake.

Supper was with Catholic Bishop Walter Sullivan who greeted us at the doorway. Sam returned the greeting with, "I've never met a real bishop before." I was glad the meal was low key -- soup and sandwiches in the living room with many people sitting on the floor. The interfaith service which followed was noteworthy for the cathedral (definitely the most impressive church we had been in thus far), the hundreds of people in attendance, and the reflections of the bishop and Rabbi Beverly Lerner.

   April 29, Rest day #2 in Richmond
As we gathered for the trip to an interfaith program at the University of Virginia, we shared a fifteen-page letter which had come yesterday. It was from a woman in Hampton, VA, whom none of us remembered meeting. She began by presenting her credentials:
She had been appointed President of the US when she was three years old by Calvin Coolidge. Also, in a previous life, she had been Pope Pius XII. Then she got to the heart of her dissertation on war and peace: there will always be civil wars as long as people continue to have pins and rods placed in their teeth. We put the letter away and piled into a van to go to Charlottesville.

We arrived at the University of Virginia just as the program was beginning. Eight world religions were represented, including Zoroastrianism. Some of the prayers and readings were on tape. Morishita's talk was the only one with real social content.

After the program the walkers went outside for lunch on the lawn. We were joined by only a few other people, one a German woman who talked almost constantly. Her husband was a pacifist. The two of them left Germany during WW II. She asked Mercury where he was from. Hoping to avoid her, he said "I am a Canadian." In the past he had denied his German origins for immigration purposes and to avoid "How could you do it?" comments. Too bad Morishita did not understand Mercury's desire to avoid a motor mouth. (Maybe he himself wanted to escape, since she was addressing herself particularly to him.) At supper he introduced Mercury as a German and from then on Mercury had a close companion. He later shared her inadvertently-dropped opinion of us: "My husband was not just a peace worker. He was an intellectual."

After lunch we set up our photo display. The monks were praying with their drums and chants while the rest of us distributed leaflets and asked people to sign our petition.

Ah, but our local supporters had not obtained the necessary permits. Soon the Dean of Student Affairs was running toward us, demanding to know what was going on. I was the third person he had talked with, and when I didn't know who our local coordinator was he lost patience. "We don't allow our students to do this, and we are not about to let you do it." Finally it was resolved that only the monks would be allowed to beat the drums and chant. And this had to be done quietly. After all, final exams were in two days and the students had to study.

We continued our activity for about an hour. Overall, we were well received. About 50 people signed our petition. But about one-fourth of the students refused even to look at us as they walked past. It was especially sad to see the young long-haired professors at Tom Jefferson's college act in this manner. I could imagine them as peace activists in their student days.

At five o'clock we gathered to walk two miles downtown. Fredericka Hall (with us from Norfolk on) and Mary continued to leaflet as we walked through rush-hour traffic. About 20 people had prepared our potluck supper tonight. Most were friends of Bill's, whom he had known when he worked at "In Us Free" near Charlottesville. This is a community for mentally handicapped adults, similar to the L'Arche community which had helped host us in Mobile, AL. Bill chose to stay over a few days to visit with friends and then rejoin us before we left Richmond.

   April 30, Rest day #3 in Richmond
Today was going to be a real rest day. I spent the better part of the morning just sitting out in the back yard enjoying the warm sunshine. In the afternoon Molly and I saw "On Golden Pond." It seemed like years since I'd seen a movie. Then Doug arrived to walk with us for the final six weeks. And then it was time to get ready for another potluck supper, this one with Rabbi Beverly's an Or Ammi. It was followed by their regular service and then our program.

We were ready to leave when the phone rang. It was Pamela to speak to Morishita. I was near Morishita when he was told of the call and he asked me to remain close to talk with her if necessary. He could not always understand her speech on the telephone. She was upset that Sam was still with us and declared that he had to leave. If he was with us when we walked out of Richmond in two days, she threatened to call the police to have him arrested. I thought at the time that this was a bluff. But Morishita and I told her of the group's meeting yesterday and our consensus that Sam be allowed to stay with us. Morishita and I were passing the phone back and forth to each other every five minutes. Pamela was repeating the same arguments to us both.

When the call was over, it was becoming apparent that we would have to yield to her wishes -- and now not so sure but that she was right. Of course, all the walkers knew of the phone call and what the conversation was about, but no one talked about it tonight. I had trouble sleeping as I went over Pamela's arguments, still trying to refute them. go to page 39