Our day began at four, when we got up to attend a prayer vigil in front of the UN, an interfaith vigil which began at sunset last night. Each religion had a time slot, the Buddhists having the hour between 6:00 and 7:00 a.m.

Almost at once after getting up, we began our goodbyes. It was hard to say goodbye to people with whom we had shared such an experience as the walk. Words were inadequate and we often parted with just a handshake or a quiet embrace.

In the subway at 5 a.m., a Black man was upset at the protesters. "They don't know nothing about nothing. The Russians won't waste bombs on Harlem or Brooklyn. They won't waste bombs on Blacks. They will only bomb Manhattan." Others on the subway were also hostile, cursing us and telling us to go back to the countries we came from. I told the man near me that I was from North Carolina. He said that was even worse, "cracker country."

We got to the vigil around 6 o'clock. The police had just set up barricades to keep us from the vigil site and only the monks were permitted to enter. The police told us the permit stated that only fifty people could be present; now, more than one hundred had gathered. The area around the UN was filled with police. After 15 minutes we went in to the vigil anyway, led by the DC Catholic Worker people in crossing the barricades which the police then took down. Everyone entered, and the police showed they didn't care to arrest anyone or provoke a needless confrontation. During the entire day not a single person was arrested.

At 7 o'clock, the Buddhist prayer ended. Benedictine monks were assigned the next hour. Morishita came up to some of us and handed us breakfast, a boiled egg. I said goodbye to the monks in their tradition, each of us bowing three times while chanting "Na Mu Myo Ho Ren Ge Kyo." Doug and I had told the monks that we would walk with Tim and Linda McGloin in order to be with them when the rally ended, for our drive back to Durham then. We could not walk the final three miles with the World Peace March.

The walk to Central Park had a definite order. The Children's Walk led the way, as Isaiah would have had it. The children were followed by the different routes of the World Peace March. Tim and Linda were walking with the Friends of the Filipino People, part of the Third World contingent and the most politically radical section of the walk.

We met Tim and Linda at 48th St. and 2d Ave. We had been there for more than an hour when I heard the familiar beating of a single prayer drum. I ran to investigate; it was Nagase. One of the older monks had gotten separated from the others, and he could not speak English. Other monks had scattered, trying to draw him out of the dense crowd with the drum.

The walk began at l0 o`clock. It takes a long time for a million people to walk into 2d Avenue, and it was past 2 p.m. when our section entered 2d Ave. at the United Nations. The rally at Central Park had begun at noon. 48th St. was filled with people and it was difficult to walk around; I spent most of the four hours simply sitting on the pavement.

The three-mile walk itself was an anti-climactic ending to a l,900-mile walk. I was too tired to have much energy left for excitement. The four-hour wait had taken my remaining energy. I wished I could have felt more excitement at this rally, so many times more successful than could have been imagined on January lst as we left New Orleans.

It was impressive not only because of its size but because of the people who were there. Almost every section and grouping of society was well-represented -- different from the peace rallies of a decade ago. Then people came mostly from one major sector, the college campus. On June l2th the peace movement was well off the campus. The most moving moments for me came as we walked past the Dakota Apartments, where John Lennon lived and where he was shot. People stationed there led each passing section in singing, "Give Peace a Chance."

Finally at Central Park, we could not enter; it was full, yet more were leaving than entering now. The rally was nearly over. We found a vacant area near the outside of the park. It was not possible to see the main part of the rally, much less the stage; I turned on my transistor radio to a local station giving live coverage, and heard that some people estimated the crowd at l.3 million.

Then, after we had been there only ten minutes, I heard the beating of the prayer drums. Doug and I ran out to the street leaving the park and got there just as the monks were approaching. We stood there with our hands clasped in prayer. Each monk and nun bowed slightly as they walked past. I had been given this final chance to say goodbye to Morishita, Nagase, Sakamaki. I did not see Kajo.

It was the last time I saw Morishita. He was leaving the park which had been filled with almost a million people, still praying for world peace. He was leading a young blind woman who had been with us since we arrived in New York. Soon he would be joining another peace walk which would take him to Moscow. # # # # #go to homepage