Almost everyone felt bad about the decision and how it was made. Whenever we looked at Sam we turned away to fight back tears.

Langdon Bristol had arranged to come up tonight to drive Sam back to Norfolk. He would then be put in contact with a draft counselor and a lawyer to provide him with legal assistance in leaving the Navy if that was what he wanted to do. A little later I saw Langdon, Morishita, and Sam talking together at the edge of the park. Langdon did not come by to say "Hello," nor did Sam come by to say "Goodbye."

(After the walk ended, I talked with Langdon and Pamela about Sam. After Langdon dropped him off in Norfolk that night, no one heard from him again. He did not keep the appointments with the counselor and lawyer. It could be that Pamela had been right that he was a provocateur. Or perhaps he was disillusioned with the peace walk.)

Doug was sick and went to bed almost as soon as we got back to our host McElvees'. Molly and I babysat with nine-month old Patrick so that they could go out for the evening.

   May 2, Richmond to Ashland
I woke up this morning with the flu. All my muscles ached and I was nauseous. I ate one bite of breakfast and had to run to the bathroom. I did not think I would be able to walk, and Michael and Eileen said I could stay with them this morning. Then they would take me to the rest of the group after lunch. I went back to bed for a couple more hours. Doug told me that when Morishita heard that I could not walk today, he said "So, the mighty Andy has finally fallen to the ground." Definitely. But I got up around the middle of the morning feeling much better.

Both Michael and Eileen McElvee would be able to walk with us after lunch. I felt I would be well enough to walk, too.

On the way to pick up Michael, Eileen showed me the house where she and Michael had recently lived and worked, a home that provided respite care for mentally handicapped children.

Michael told me that in 1970 he helped blockade U.S. l at College Park, MD. The University of Maryland students occasionally blocked that highway during the Vietnam Moratorium. Now, years later, he would participate in a peace action walking beside his wife and pushing his son in a stroller. Patrick was asleep, unaware that the stroller bounced more from side to side than it moved forward.

We made an unscheduled stop outside the Smokey Pig restaurant when a customer rushed out offering to buy us all iced tea. We sat down on the brick wall in front of the restaurant, and waitresses brought all sixteen of us large glasses of iced tea. I was grateful for the tea, but even more for the fifteen minute rest. My body was still sick and letting me know it. Bill did the interview with the newspaper reporter. The photographer took plenty of pictures of the Peace March lounging outside the Smokey Pig.

We were hosted tonight at Randolph Macon College. At 6 o'clock we assembled outside the cafeteria. As it would happen, tonight was the night that the school's new cafeteria was being dedicated. Alumni and supporters were coming from the cafeteria as we stood in a circle holding hands, singing "Thank you for this day, O Lord," and offering prayers, some Buddhist. I heard one elderly alumna admonish an administration official. "Now . . . keep a firm grip on these students. That's what they need!" No one joined our circle, but I heard a few of the student cafeteria employees singing a song that we had sung, "Happiness runs in a circular motion."

The next day, Doug told me about his night on a frat house couch. His invitation had come from only one of the brothers, and most of the others weren't happy about it. They had set off fire- crackers all through the night -- especially to keep Doug awake?

   May 3, Ashland to Dobson

I woke up feeling much better this morning, but I think I still had some fever. The weather continued sunny with mild temperatures, and we had only nine miles to walk.

Our host tonight was Jean, a Quaker who lived by herself on a farm at the end of a long dirt road. She let us stay in the Friends meeting room, asking only that we not use much water from the well. There had been very little rain lately and the well was almost dry.

We were on a farm in the country with most of the day to ourselves. There were many times when it felt right for the walkers to be apart. This was one of the many times when it felt right for us to be together. Sandy mended Kajo's shoes. Some people had their sleeping bags spread in the shade and were taking an afternoon nap. Molly fixed Kurimori's hair in dreadknots. He came outside, more than a little self-conscious. Cameras were brought out and pictures taken. Then in less than half an hour, Kurimori was wearing his hair in his regular style. Morishita showed Doug and me pictures of him and other monks building peace pagodas. The pagoda in India was built on top of a mountain, and the monks carried the building materials to the site on their backs. The pagoda in England, finished in 1980, won an award for architectural design. Some were taking short walks and stopping to sketch flowers. Carole and Mercury found a spot in an open field which would be perfect for a fire later in the evening and went into the woods to collect firewood. Jean and a few neighbors fixed supper for us.

After the night's events, Molly Brown's First International Going-Away Party around the campfire, with stories of bears we had met, then of bear paws and bird nests Morishita had eaten, most of us returned to the house to sleep. Bill, now our group leader again, was on the telephone at Jean's house till 11 o'clock making arrangements for us to spend tomorrow night indoors. Carole and Mercury slept in the field near the fire. In the morning Carole told me how she had reached over to pick up a stick from the wood pile and seen a large snake shoot across the field. She said she did not sleep well last night.

   May 4, Dobson to Ladysmith

It was the anniversary of the Kent State killings, an event new to the non-Americans when we talked about it at lunch.

Today was the first time I experienced a twisted sense of reality, bordering on psychosis. I was walking at the rear watching people stare at us from their cars and front porches. And there was no doubt in my mind. We were only a carnival act walking into town to awaken people for a brief minute from their boring everyday routine. Yes, we were a carnival. "Come see the rest of our show at our program tonight. We have Buddhist monks, we have hippies, we have feminists, we have pacifists, we have slides of Hiroshima bombing! Admission is free." Perhaps I still had a fever. After a drink of water we were the World Peace March again, and remained so to Ladysmith.

Virginia Electric Power Company (VEPCO) operates a nuclear power plant nearby at North Anna. The people at Twin Oaks had asked us to go by the plant to hold a prayer vigil. We were happy to oblige.

It was 4:45 when we reached the VEPCO plant; the visitor center would close at 5:00. Bill, being group leader, walked into the visitor's center to ask permission to pray for peace outside the center's office. Bill has clean-cut looks; I imagine the receptionist thought we were a pro-nuclear power fundamentalist prayer group -- she gave the permission readily and cheerfully. But you could see her face change as we walked outside the center and lined up facing the nuclear reactors. After our fifteen-minute prayer vigil the center was locked, the woman gone home.

As we were entering the van to leave, Morishita said, "Finally we get to pray for peace in peace," but two police cars pulled up behind us before we left the parking lot. Company cars followed us even when we left VEPCO property to make the half-hour drive to Twin Oaks. go to page 40