Tuesday, September 22, 2009
See Illustrated Version Here
With the three of us sharing driving and stops for food, gas and rest rooms, it was to take us 52 hrs to reach our destination. In New Mexico, on Historic Route 66, I got a ticket for speeding. I was going 80 in a 75 mph zone, although the little dweeb wrote it for 85, and John got a ticket for not wearing a seat belt, although that was true. In fact the only person in the SUV that didn't get a ticket was White. Fancy that! I'm quite sure the signs on our vehicle made us a target.
We sampled truck stops across the Southwest and in a Texas nowhere we interviewed an old man that had lived through the first great depression. I've got it on tape. The interview was John's idea. The guy was listening to Rush Limbaugh and I didn't want to bother him, but he turned out to be quite friendly and had a lot to say. Just goes to show you can't judge a man by his radio. In Oklahoma we interviewed a women that use to rebuild transmission at a local factory, now closed and was currently working for minimum wage at a gas station were gas cost $2.22/gallon. Can I bring some back to CA? She saw me putting up a Vietnam: American Holocaust post card [I bought a thousand] on the bulletin board and one thing lead to another. She liked what we were doing and also had a lot to say.
I drove us through St. Louis, my old stomping ground, before the morning rush hour and into one of the prettiest sunrises I have ever seen in Illinois. After another breakfast at Denny's we made for Columbus were we had been told there might be some people that needed a ride. Well nobody needed a ride but I did fix their Internet at the left-wing bike shop and left DVD's of my film with them and the radical bookstore next door. They told us about a local homeless tent encampment and after some searching we found it it's a real shame that people are forced to live that way.
But we had to push on as we wanted to make it to our own tent city before night fall, so Ohio, W.VA, and PA rolled underneath the wheels and we found our way to the church lot as darkness destined on Pittsburgh. Quite a few people were there already so we found a spot and put up John's tent, but we didn't stay in tents that night. We treat ourselves to showers, baths, laundry, TV and real beds at the downtown DoubleTree about a mile away. That's when I found out that Patrick Swazy had died.
The next morning was the day of the first big march, so it was early to the church lot, were I setup my table and started selling DVD's. People started arriving from all over and the march was a great success.