476 miles from Washington, Richmond, IN

The miles was starting to get to us. Like they said, "its not the years, its the mileage." Each day wore on us and the horses. We reached Richmond by the end of that day. Again veterans groups were waiting for us, along with the media. We passed out press packages with government reports. Again the town halls helped with making copies of the paper work. We met many good people in Richmond, I wish I could record their names, but the years and the many miles have dulled my memory. These people and all the rest of the public along the way was how we were able to ride across America and accomplish this task. We met with the public officials, the media and at night spoke at various organizations. It was becoming routine. I started to become well versed in answering the reports questions. Even the public speaking was becoming easier to do. I now had a format for the speeches. I would begin with a poem;The war is over, so its saidall men are home, or else they're deadDon't you know that I want to cryThat some of us have refused to dieWhere are your ears, my countrymenWhen refugees tell you the state I'm inDon't you know that I live in hellWith nothing but my soul left to sellI've watched friends fade, one by oneDespair killed them, not a gunI too may go this wayOr find freedom on execution dayBut you my friends can never be free If you're one that's abandoned meThis emotional verse, I would come to see, silenced large, noisy convention halls with thousands members. As I spoke these words I would hear the crowd quieting the others that were still talking, as they strain to listen to this stirring verse. A silence would fall over these massive convention centers as I told the world about our missing men. I would than speak of the many reports of live sighting of American soldiers from refugees that had escaped from Viet Nam. In closing I would ask each of them, to not abandon these men, but to bring the news to they hometowns and generate support for them. After awhile, this public speaking became routine. I could walk up to the podium without the hesitation of my first attempts at public speaking. I knew what I had to say and in what order to say it.There I was, a no body from a side street in America, giving speeches to huge crowds and doing media interviews. It was an uneasy feeling. I could have never imagined myself in this position. Reporters often asked me, "why you, why are you the one do this." I didn't know the answer to that question, so I would jokingly said, because I had the horse and others didn't. When I look back on it, I know why. I had lived my life believing in the greatest of this Country and wanted that continued for future generations to also have. Maybe it was all the reading I had done on history, that told me that Nations survive only by the participation of its citizens. When people made a big deal about me doing this, I tried to remind them that as far as I was concerned, I was just a messenger. I came to realise along the way that I was also representing millions of good people in this Country that felt the frustrations of our now mega government, that represented them and were very worried about how they were being represented. The glory, fame and notoriety of the ride were a pain in the butt, no pun intended. I have to continue later. I can't stress enough the fact that the ride across America was only possible because of the spirit of the American public. We as a nation, were, are and will be civilization's greatest hope. Yes even with all of our short comings in our society, have the best chance for the advancement of the human race. Some of you that have never been to foreign counties may only see the negative side of our Country, but today in the world people are still hacking each other up with machetes to solve their differences. Backward nations still violate human rights. Even with all the dirty political tricks to stop us, that I mentioned in the first section of this blog which were expected, we still have the best governmental system in the world. Yes, we may have some sleazy politicians, but for the most part we have many that truly love this Country.If you are under thirty years old and hate some of the things in this Country, relax. There was an old saying, If you're not a communist at twenty, you have no heart. If you're still a communist at thirty, you have no brain. The young often have lofty ideals. World peace, a world without hungry children, save the blue speckled turnip. As you mature you will see the world in its realities. Many parts of the world live in darkness and without opportunity. Why else would millions of illegal alien want to come to this Country if not for a chance at a better life, in a country with a descent government. I see a lot of talk on the Internet from people that believe that they have the answers to foreign policy, as though they have access to all the intelligence reports. I have a great deal of respect for the people, that have dedicated their lives to keeping this Country and my children safe, in the intelligence community. They are true, unselfish Americans that deserve the thanks of a grateful nation. Unfortunately, its the ill informed, half wits that raise their voices the loudest. Back to ancient history.Indianapolis, would be the breaking point of this endeavor. Either we would be able to raise some sorely needed funding and get this better organized or face the possibility of failing. Barry and I were accomplishing our goal of generating public opinion and support for these missing men, but the cost in human terms was taking its toll. While we were able to sometimes sleep in a bed and eat most days, our energy levels continued to weaken. This was due to my shortcomings. I had a real problem with asking for help. I had never had to do that before. If people didn't volunteer it, I didn't want to bring it up. Sorry Barry. It was stubborn pride on my part I know. Anyway, we would be in Indianapolis in a few days, the national headquarters of the American Legion. I felt sure we could we get some help from this veterans' organization. When I left the service, I didn't join veterans groups or trade unions or fraternal organizations, not that I thought that there was anything wrong with it, it just never occurred to me. I didn't grow up with that example. I just made my own way through life, looking back on it, it was probably a good idea. Veterans groups and others, had been paving the way for us calling ahead to the next towns, setting up the media interviews and arranging to met with the public officials for their letters of support. We rode along route 40 that took us through Cambridge City, Dublin, Kightstown, Greenfield and into Cumbland on the outskirts of Indianapolis. On horseback you can watch the gradual change of the terrain. We left Pennsylvania's mountains and descended into West Virginia's hill country. As we entered Ohio the hills grew smaller, than opened to near flat country of the Midwest, Throughout the Midwest I found warm and friendly people. This was truly the heartland of America. The media interviews were by now also becoming routine. It seem that they always started with, "When were you in Viet Nam or how long were you in Viet Nam." My stock answer became, What makes you think I was ever in Viet Nam. The reporters were always surprised to find out I wasn't in Viet Nam. I would than ask them what made them think that this was something that should concern just Viet Nam vets. These were American servicemen being held by a foreign power after the war ended. This should be of concern to all Americans. They were the sons and husbands and fathers that put on a uniform and did their duty for this Country. Were we now to just turn our backs on them. Is this what America has become, I asked the reporters. After thinking about it, the reporters got the message.