We had 21 miles to walk, and it was very hot. Ohms carried the prayer banner, setting a fast four-mile-an-hour pace although we could not arrive at the church until 4 o'clock. By then, my legs were sore and many people had blisters on their feet.

Before lunch we had to cross the narrow, mile-long bridge across the Susquehanna. Walking was forbidden, but a friendly farming family from Elkton was waiting to carry us across in their tractor trailer, which they used to move farm animals.

Lunch brought some excitement. A man stopped his car and came over, talking in a loud angry voice. He blamed all the world's problems on Jews. We did not care to argue with him but, at the same time, did not care to be subjected to his hatred. A few of us drew him away from the rest, trying to talk with him in a calm voice.

That evening Yoshida left after the evening service for a meeting in New York City. Meanwhile John, Eileen, and Beata arrived from Philadelphia. They had attended the opening day of the appeals from the Plowshares Eight trial. Chances of overturning the conviction or of reduction of the sentences were about nil.

A few rumors went around. One, there would be a rest day in Philadelphia. Again, Yoshida would hold a meeting tomorrow to talk about the rule on drugs. This excited the L.A. walkers who had not had a group meeting since leaving Los Angeles seven months ago, and they had a few things to air. Finally, there was word that the Venerable Fuji would arrive in New York on June lst and any walker who wished could go there to greet him.

   May 27, Elkton to Wilmington, Delaware
Right after morning prayers, Yoshida did call a meeting, which was a ten-minute lecture with no opportunity for discussion. He spoke of the importance of keeping our con- centration on the walk and of keeping the rules on drugs. One bad incident could severely damage several years of work by many people. The success of the walk was much more important than anything else. He recounted how a single incident, the stealing of a car in Ohio by one walker, had damaged the reputation and objectives of the l976 Continental Walk for Peace and Justice; the walkers were dismissed as a group of thieves.

I found myself agreeing with much of what Yoshida said. But it was very unfortunate that the structure of the walk could not have been more democratic, less authoritarian. So many were now so dissatisfied with the decision-making structure that Yoshida's words had little impact.

The day's distance equalled our longest, 23 miles, and this after several hard days. Many of us were still hurting from yesterday's long miles and fast pace. And we were picking up new walkers every day now; it was especially hard for them.

Almost as the walk began, someone threw a full can of beer from a fast moving car; it hit just in front of me, spraying me. We walked alongside heavy traffic. The diesel fumes from trucks and the smog hurt my throat; it was difficult to breathe deeply. Many drivers were momentarily distracted by the walk. We saw two minor auto accidents and two near-misses. It was unbelievable that the police would not provide us with an escort.

Walking into Wilmington was similar to walking into Baltimore, with a fine reception in the downtown area, especially among Blacks. We had a potluck supper at a church, the program lasting for two hours. For the first time Socialist Workers Party members were actively involved in our local coordination.

Doug and I stayed with the minister's family. I enjoyed their company very much. Since D.C. we had not had much chance to relax in individuals' homes and spend an evening in conversation. Our evenings had been falling into a pattern of potluck supper, church service, unpack the bus, find your own backpack, find a place to sleep.

Two walkers, Steve and Terrie, went to New York to help with organizing there. I was grateful for the relaxing evening after a 16-hour day

_    May 28, Wilmington, Del., to Gibbstown, NJ
Seventeen miles today, but miles made longer by a heavy cold rain which fell all day; in the afternoon, thunderstorms. Despite -- in some cases, because of -- the weather, we got one of our best receptions.

First crossing the Delaware into New Jersey, we walked to a morning rest break at St. James Catholic Church and went in to get out of the rain. As we entered, we were surprised by two hundred elementary school children greeting us in song: "Peace is Flowing Like a River". Cold and wet, we were touched. Yoshida in a short program talked to the children. On the road again, the rain felt less wet.

Near noon the drivers of our advance vehicles were looking for a dry place for lunch. A man came up and offered his house for shelter and we gladly accepted. We shed our rainwear in the garage and hung it up to dry. Then l25 people filed into the house, leaving their wet shoes in the kitchen. Our gracious host returned from a store with cokes for all. His hospitality was, he said, in memory of his recently deceased wife -- he was sure she would have done the same. We took an hour break for lunch there, and it passed too quickly. It took a while to match people with shoes and rainwear, but then we were out in the rain again.

Walking was nearly unbearable as the rain penetrated beneath our rainwear; my jeans were soaked and water-heavy, adding to the weight of each step. The ground had become saturated, and water was sometimes well above our ankles. Drivers were keeping their distance and slowing down, as a rule, but occasionally someone would drive too close, splashing gallons of water on each of us.

Then, as the rain became even more intense, we received unplanned hospitality -- a mechanic offered us the use of his garage for a breather. There were so many of us I couldn't get close to the mechanic, but caught a sense of pleasant talk.

A county police officer came to the garage and talked with us, saying that he would provide us an escort, but we should still be very careful of the traffic in such weather. He added that this area was badly polluted by many chemical plants and rated by the E.P.A. as the third most polluted area in the United States. The underground water was unsafe to drink, he despaired.

It was time to slop ahead in the continuing thunderstorm. Most of us were beyond the point of caring, but a few knew how to turn misery into recreation and, yippie-like, jumped and splashed in puddle and ditch, where water was two to three feet deep in places. This lifted their spirits and those of their neighbors.

Before long we were in Gibbstown, and completely surprised by a great reception. There were hand-drawn posters on almost every telephone pole, each with a different slogan. We read aloud, "Welcome Buddhist monks!", "We Pray with the Peace Marchers", "Stop Nuclear Terror". Then people ran out of their houses into the rain to shake our hands. Drivers pulled their cars off the road and walked with us. Other people stopped their grocery shopping and came outside to wave. The town seemed to be for us one hundred per cent.

   May 29, Gibbstown to Camden
The distance was the same as on the 28th, but the weather had changed overnight. It was warmer, with clear skies, and we were little troubled by the mud underfoot. Just before we started, Tetsul threatened to throw one of yesterday's exuberant splashers off the walk; he had kept it up as we entered Gibbstown. I agreed with Tetsul that this had detracted from the depth of the reception, but no one agreed with the drastic penalty and for once, popular demand carried the day.

For whatever reason, we left Gibbstown in high spirits, the monks themselves excited, and by the end of the day so many good things had happened that Morishita told me that the day's walk reminded him of European peace walks. Twenty people joined us as we left the church; many joined throughout the day, some for just a mile or so, as one small town followed another. It was Saturday, with many folks outside; again there were many hand-drawn signs on the telephone poles, as well as many balloons, especially in Camden. Small groups, and families, stood on corners to welcome us, presenting us often with flowers as we walked by. Many police officers in their parked cars gave us the peace sign.

We were to spend the night at Sacred Heart School and were greeted there by Father Michael Doyle, one of the "Camden 28" found innocent by a jury after dumping draft files in the street. After we had unpacked the bus and relaxed a bit, many people came by to talk. It was clear that people in this working-class Irish-Catholic neighborhood loved and respected Father Doyle very much. His strong support of the peace walk had to a large extent created our tremendous reception.

After showering at the Y and taking an excellent supper, we were driven to the Walt Whitman Center for a very good Walt Whitman performance by Will Studds. We weren't dressed for Studds' wine and cheese reception afterward, but he invited the monks to his dressing room. While waiting their return, I had a chance to ask Kurimori how he had liked the performance. He seemed a little confused, and had had difficulty with the English, he said. I told him about Whitman and took him to a statue at the entrance. He read the inscription and said, "Oh! Walt Whitman!" He said in Japan they pronounced it "White-man". He had read Whitman's poetry; it was a shame that no one had explained to Kurimori and the other Japanese what they were going to attend. go to page 49