Make your own free website on Tripod.com
Home | Page One | Page Two | Page Three | Page Four | Page Five | Page Six | Page Seven | Page Eight | Page Nine | Page Ten | Page Eleven | Page Twelve | Page Thirteen | Page Fourteen | Page Fifteen | Page Sixteen | Page Seventeen | Page Eighteen | Page Nineteen | Page Twenty
LOST JOURNALS from the GREAT PEACE MARCH
Page One

PART ONE

MARCH 1

The day that seemed forever far away at last is here. Departure Day, red white and blue balloon day - Mayor Bradley, Holly Near! PEACE NOW! PEACE NOW! Hundreds chant and thousands cheer. The first day of the Great Peace March - jubilant day! And yet I'm sad. For already this joyous day is over and gone. Won't the last day too come and go? Naw, it's nine whole months away. Why, that's forever!


MARCH 2

Yeah, it's that certain feeling. Don't I know when it hits me? I feel it in every bone of my body! Five hundred beautiful, friendly, talented women in this camp and she's the one I want to take into my arms. Her tent is the one I want to climb into tonight - her tent, her arms... TONIGHT!

MARCH 3

In this magic place called Claremont we set up our tents side by side, helping each other with everything. Then on a delicious warm evening, under a sky full of stars... - into each other's arms! Just for a moment and with my big dumb tape recorder hanging between us. But there is something else between us, intangible and oh so sweet. My heart sings! Shall I hang love poems on trees? We're in an enchanted forest. It's Arden and here is my Rosalind.


MARCH 5

On the fifth day of the Great Peace March I enter heaven. I 'knock' on her tent door. A long talk. She wants to know all about my life. I squeeze her hand, caress her arm. We kiss, embrace, and under warm sleeping bags, in a yellow tent translucent to the stars, we make love, the sweetest love...


MARCH 8

Rosalind and I leave the campground together, but soon we're in a big nasty sandstorm. Grit blows, mile after mile, into our eyes and mouth. PHEWWW! Then the sandstorm is replaced by a rainstorm, very heavy, and so we slosh in rain for miles. But as we approach camp, glorious sunshine baths our desert landscape in gold. Bushes are wet and green, endless sand now moist and brown. The hills gray, the clouds all puffy white. Then - darn it! - it rains again and we all scurry to set up our tents. In tents! My Rosalind and I intense again in our tent tonight.

"The Meal Line" by Guy Colwell

MARCH 10

A twenty mile walk across a desert of mud - three inch deep mud! Windy as hell. As we walk into camp it turns cold and rains hard! So much rain in a desert?! Chaos and confusion. Tents lost. People shivering. Hot soup served in long lines. I can't find my sleeping bag. In Orange Town Tent hypothermia victims on the floor. Wild night - frightening night!

Click photo to go to next page and then click photo on every page...