One of three church services we attended was a mass by Father Doyle. He said that the Peace March was the brightest thing to happen to Camden in the past fourteen years (Camden was one of the brightest things to happen to the Peace March), that Camden had been bypassed and "stepped on" long enough, that at last people were "walking through Camden with messages of peace."

As the mass ended we heard loud hammering outdoors. Leaving first, we found what it was. A man from the Brandywine Community was standing outside beating a Mark XII-A missile nose cone with a large hammer. He was symbolically beating a sword into a plowshare; the reader may recall our seeing that nose cone in Richmond.

The congregation gathered outside and almost all joined the walk, carrying flowers and tree boughs through Camden. We had seen a depressing port area of Camden city the day before; more bleakness that day as we walked through the downtown area -- deserted, with long-boarded-up stores. Camden had indeed been stepped on.

After a short mass in the cathedral, when the priest warned that no one could join the walk carrying their own flag, we crossed the river on the Ben Franklin Bridge, getting a spectacular view of Philadelphia. At the end of the bridge was our host church, St. Augustine's. A plaque there stated that the church had been burned in l844 in anti-Irish-Catholic riots. After a peanut butter sandwich, it was time to walk to the GE plant that manufactured that nose cone.

The Philadelphia streets were congested with walkers, but they were undisciplined by Yoshida, walking every which way, and unrelated to us. It was just Sunday downtown, and after a bit we emerged from the confusion and made our way to the plant, where Brandywine community members were waiting. In the vicinity were police and security guards with cameras. There had been a mishap.

Ten minutes earlier the police had arrived and asked for proof of ownership of the nose cone, which Brandywiners had found in the garbage some weeks earlier. The police said it looked like GE property to them and proceeded to confiscate it; as they loaded it onto their truck bed, our drums could be heard, beating accusatorily, for the nose cone was to have been presented to the United Nations on June l2th.

After a powerful half-hour vigil, we headed for St. Augustine's, stopping at a Chinese Catholic church, the Church of the Resurrection, for supper on the way. It was a delicious full-course Chinese meal, served to Japanese Buddhist monks in Scrapple City.

   May 3l, Philadelphia to Germantown
Eight miles today -- not too much except that the day had been earlier scheduled as a rest day, and we had made plans. However, Yoshida had decided it would be better for us to walk through the city rather than be driven, and we were to start walking at 2:30. Our plans were to visit Henry Campbell, who used to work in the same chemistry lab that Doug did, and his wife Suzanne. So we got up early and took the train to Lansdale, which left us an hour and a half to visit -- and to take them up on their offer to let us run our dirty clothes through their washer and dryer and to run ourselves through their shower. While we did these last chores, our hosts made sandwiches for lunch. Our talking time was limited to lunch and went too quickly. There wasn't even time for the clothes to get completely dry.

The police had selected our parade route, which took us through the most blighted urban area of the entire march. Huge areas had been completely devastated by fire or bulldozer. Those buildings still standing showed no sign of habitation, but every so often a voice would shout from deep inside somewhere, almost invariably a message of hate and blasphemy. There were a very few pockets of approval amid the racist epithets toward the Japanese and their companions -- we felt like foreign invaders. My mind went back to the KKK reaction in Albany, Louisiana. We walked without breaks, getting to Germantown at 4:30. Fast time.

We were hosted by three churches there, mine the Quaker and the farthest away. Our bus driver Bob insisted that we walk there, carrying our luggage to avoid overstraining the old bus. Like the bus, we were all strained, Bob as well. A few nights ago he lectured us on our laziness and on not caring enough about the bus. He said we had it easy, just had to walk (and not drive an old bus). He thought we should wash the bus's windows and headlights after the evening program. And so I became aware of yet another division within the walk and became more appreciative of the difficult job he had.

Each of the three churches had a potluck supper and evening program. At ours, we heard that the disarmament coalition had chartered one hundred buses to the June l2th rally. And we heard that last March more than l5,000 walked through the city with the European Peace Walkers. Those walkers must have received a different impression of Philadelphia from the one we gained today.

   June l, Germantown to Northeast Philadelphia
Eighteen miles to go this day -- our last month and indeed our last week of the walk to the UN. But 45 of us left after lunch to greet Fuji at his arrival in New York and did not walk the total distance. I was eager to meet the ninety-eight year old man who had initiated the World Peace March. Some of those who did not go to greet Fuji did so for a definite reason -- to show dissatisfaction with the monks' use of authority.

The three police officers who had been with us the past three days said goodbye to the monks who were leaving, each officer shaking the hand of each monk. One officer paid us a high compliment. He said that in fifteen years on the Philadelphia force he had never seen a more dedicated and disciplined group. They wished us success. They were not the ones who had developed yesterday's parade route!

Something else had happened between us and those three. Walking with us the first day, they wore their guns. That night the monks asked Mary Jane to complain to them about the presence of guns. Guns were a violation of the rules of the walk. They asked that if the police wore guns, that they not walk with us but stay in their car, but I didn't expect them to comply. The next day the policemen were not wearing guns, nor again today.

Around l:00 o'clock, the 45 of us packed into Bob's bus, more than it had ever carried. I found an 18-inch space under the bed in back and slept during the rough two-hour ride. At the airport, we found the plane not due for three hours. Many of us went to the lobby and drank coffee and read newspapers.

On a front page I read an article that the US State Department had denied visas to 300 of the l,400 from Japan who were to attend SSD-II, saying they were subversives. I later learned a few further facts. Some of those denied visas were members of Nipponzan Myohoji; all those denied visas had gotten plane tickets from the same travel agency; those who had obtained visas were members of the same organizations as those who were denied. On June 7th all of those who had originally been denied visas had been given visas to attend the UN session, but these restricted them to a twenty-five-mile radius of New York City.

Back at the bus at 5 o'clock, we checked the food box and found we had all the makings for macaroni sandwiches. Done: not tasty but meeting the basic requirement of being food. One person said the monks could make a sandwich out of anything; he had seen one put a doughnut between two slices of bread.

Around 8:45, Fuji's plane landed. His trip had tired him and he needed to rest before the reception. Only two drums were allowed to beat, and finally he came past in his wheelchair, monks and nuns, heads bowed slightly, walking close to him. We followed to the lobby, reserved for the reception

_ Fuji spoke briefly, smiling widely but in a weak voice. I could not understand the English of his translator. He finished. We all took off our shoes and began to pray. After ten minutes, each person went up to him, dropped on their knees, bowed, then rose and shook his hand. A couple of monks, including Morishita, introduced the walkers to him. More than a hundred people were introduced as we chanted softly. The reception was over when the last person was introduced, and we left immediately. I saw Fuji being helped into the back seat of a big limo. We N.O. and L.A. walkers made our way back to the bus.

   June 2, Northeast Philadelphia to Levittown
After morning prayers Yoshida said he was told we would be walking through the most conservative area in the whole country. (I had heard this before and laughed to myself. I wished it were the most conservative since our reception had been so friendly.) Yoshida then left for New York City to talk with Fuji.

We had only fifteen miles to walk. We were joined by a dozen new walkers that day; they would stay with us until June l2th, a daily pattern of additions until we arrived in New York City.

Last night a young man joined. After a few days, it was clear he had little touch with reality. But we no longer had any screening procedure for new walkers. A few of us took it upon ourselves to keep an eye on him. He was huge, with shaven head, but was a threat to no one. He could not engage in conversation; he would not respond when asked his name and had a vacant stare. Evenings he walked around talking softly to himself. The prayer drum had to be taken from him as he would tap it as a child would. No one knew anything about him.

One morning I saw him standing in the bathroom watching Nagase shave his head. The man ran his hand over the short hair on his head, muttering over and over, "I like my hair. I like my hair." I told Morishita of this and my other observations. He had heard from Toby that the man was an FBI plant; now he was saddened. We did not know what to do. We lacked much personal interaction with our coordinators now, so would have to ask outside help if he presented any problem. For now, we let him stay with us; in New York we told the office there, hoping they could help him, but they had far too many other things to do to get involved in this.

Now we stopped just outside a small town for lunch. This morning students of the school we had stayed at last night had presented each of us with a bag lunch. Doug, opening his, found two grape jelly sandwiches, a twinkie with grape filling, and a small bottle of grape drink.

At three o'clock we reached the Catholic school in Levittown, a big school with all its students in the parking lot awaiting us, more than l,200 of them. We walked between the two lines they had formed, feeling like their football team at a pep rally.

That night, right before our program, Morishita realized he had lost his speech, and it had been several weeks since he had given it. But I think his talk was more effective that night than before when he read from prepared material.

Then I spoke briefly, and then Yo got up to speak. She managed to turn many there against us, her speech full of anti-American rhetoric -- perhaps justifiably considering what the American military had once done to her country. But her criticism of the Soviet military was mild: "I know the Russians aren't angels." Many walkers were uneasy, and I thought afterward that we had done a thorough job of alienating our supporters in this Trenton area. But when we walked into Trenton around noon the next day, many people joined us.

When we arrived back in Levittown, we found that there had been a very good program there that night. It was held outside the school in the parking lot and was attended by several hundred people. Six right-wingers, led by Rev. Carl McIntyre, came to picket us. go to page 50