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LOST JOURNALS from the GREAT PEACE MARCH
Page Eight

MAY 1

Short twelve-mile walk to a campground with lots of grass and some water - a couple of irrigation ditches actually. I'm struggling with a writing load; I have to write letters to all forty students in Cupertino. But here comes help! It's my new singin' sweetheart and she writes a couple of letters for me. We jest and fool around and in the repartee she gets the better of me. This Beatrice puts me down! How can I put her down in return? I do so in her tent. Yes, we're like two tigers tonight! I have a mate on the March again, a hell of a challenging one!


MAY 2

Beautiful walk today not only singing but reading as well: my new partner loves all kind of poetry! Robert Frost we read, Whitman, Edna St. Vincent Millay... Then we compose some verse for a big party in camp to honor the maintenance workers. With Freda, Beatrice and I write new lyrics to the music for "Sunny Side of the Street." In the evening the "Freda Amsel Singers" perform a skit:

Covered up with grease and grime,
Never getting any rest time.
Working all day through...
It's the Peace March Maintenance Crew!

Oh we know we can't survive
Without those cars and trucks behind us...
Who do we owe credit to?
Yes, the Peace March Maintenance Crew!

Now we've got Martin, Howe and Brian,
And Michaels old and new,
Dale, Don, Tom, Barry,
Then there's Sonja, two Johns too...

So we thank you one and all:
Couldn't walk a mile witowcha.
Who do we owe credit to?
Yes, the Peace March Maintenance Crew!

MAY 3

I awake this morning in my ladylove's tent; when I climb out, her entire neighborhood sees me. They pretend not to, but they can't suppress a smile. Everyone goes off in cars today to Salt Lake City. Big city! I hang around with John Gordon for some time, then shop, eat, and shave at a mall. A big rally: The Great Peace March on the vast capitol grounds! We do an enormous hand-holding circle of peace. Speeches, of course and yes, lots of music. Our own Collective Vision plays and sings all of its hits. I get most everything on tape.

Now it's marcher-in-the-home, a time to connect with real people. We drink their wine and intoxicate them in turn with our sparkling brew called GPM. Marcher-in-the-home means laundry, a shower, and a bed! What fantastic luck that I am sharing this bed - my first in over two months - with a woman whose mind I admire, and whose body I... But what a spirited woman! Will this Beatrice fight me all the way to Washington?


MAY 5

I awake early but I'm still in a dream. I dream I'm in a soft bed with mattress, sheets, and pillows - I'm in a house and not a tent! Ah, of course! I AM in a house; I'm in Salt Lake City and I'm invited to speak at a high school today.

Beatrice refuses to miss one day of walking; she goes back to the March while I stay on in town. Kent, the fine young son in this family asks me to his school. I address five classes - three creative writing, one history, one graphic arts. I read a couple of poems, play tapes of Claremont and of the Test Site. I explain the March and answer many questions. Friendly, curious and wide awake students. How is it we were told all of Utah would be hostile to us? Excellent young women and men! I ask them to write to me. (What am I doing?#!*)

Dean, my host, meets me for lunch and drives me to a used bookstore where I find five copies of Hamlet. He insists upon paying for them. He buys me lunch too! Wonderful people, this little family, and so a warm farewell to Dean, Carol, and son Kent.

Now a seven-hour ride on the ED Bus to Cisco - seven bumpy hours but we munch food all the way. And we play - play of the highest sort. On this rag-tag bus careening 'cross Utah we enact the best "Hamlet," Suzanne Mendelson swore, she saw in her whole life. Three acts we do - with passion, with tremendous projection! You would think we are playing to crowds in a colosseum. Michael Tisserand is the melancholy Dane, Matt his friend Horatio. Lee Ann is Queen Gertrude, I her husband King Claudius. Katea is Ophelia and Steve is Laertes. "How I love you people!" I cry. Singing and shouting our heads off we pull into camp after 10:00 and sleep right there on the bus.

This is not the Ed Bus!