Havre de Grace

The next morning we were up bright early and I was on my way. My destination was Joppatowne, 18 miles southwest. Seventy-two miles to the White House.

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Happy Thanksgiving Pt. 3

Thursday night I reached the Hatem Memorial Bridge on Highway 40, which crosses the Susquehanna River between Perryville and Havre de Grace. I had tangled with this bridge in 08, when it was being reconstructed, and the law is quite clear: no pedestrians. It’s over a mile long, too long to make a break for it. In ’08 the friend I was staying with, Bo, offered to give me a lift over it. This time I was staying with the mother of a friend from AmeriCorps (she lives in HdG and he lives on Cape Cod). She picked me up in Perryville, drove me back to her house (where I had also stayed in ’08), and shared some of her daughter’s Thanksgiving leftovers. I called my family (who was celebrating the holiday in Philadelphia) and then dug in. Yum, so much better than the gas station sandwich.

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On GPS

By the end of Thursday evening I had gotten of Highway 40 and took a side road to Perryville. (I should note that in 2008 I used my Tom Tom GPS to plot and check my course, in 2011 I was using almost exclusively Google Maps on my Droid… it was easier to activate the phone, which was always on, instead stopping, firing up the GPS, waiting for a satellite signal, inputting the destination, etc… though I did still carry the Tom Tom as a backup). Anyways, I’m sure the road was beautiful during the day, but it got a little lonely out there in the dark. There was some local Thanksgiving traffic whipping by the windy road, and fortunately I had my reflectors and light. I was glad when the road turned and I popped back on to Highway 40 right before the bridge. Speaking of lights, here’s a house with some neat-looking Christmas ornamentation.

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Happy Thanksgiving Pt. 2

Most of the restaurants were closed on Thanksgiving, so I had to make do with a sandwich at a gas station. At least I got turkey.

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Happy Thanksgiving

This was my Thanksgiving. Route 40 through Maryland, a four lane divided highway, isn’t the most scenic of roads. To get me through the day I listened to Jerry Seinfeld and Brian Regan on my mp3 player.

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Maryland

About two hours after Donna dropped me off on Highway 40 (Pulaski Highway), I crossed into Maryland.

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Jeff and Donna

That wet Tuesday afternoon I stopped by and collected messages from the team at Wise Power Systems in Wilmington – very cool guys. That night I stayed with Amie, my teammate from AmeriCorps. She always knows the way to my heart – for dinner she brought me to the local Chinese buffet.
Wednesday morning I was in dry clothes and on the road again. I stayed Wednesday night with Jeff and Donna. Their three children (and son-in-law) had just come back home from college for Thanksgiving, so I’m grateful they took me in in the midst of their mini-family reunion.

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Dumbest Sidewalk in the Country

Why have a sidewalk that extends ten feet then leads back to the road? By now I felt like a wet rat stuck in a downpour and I was in no mood for civil engineering shenanigans.

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Don’t Panic…

…The dog’s a very careful driver.

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On Joe Biden

On my walk on Rt. 13 I passed the Darley House in Claymont, home of Felix Octavius Carr Darley, an American artist who illustrated stories and poems for Edgar Allen Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Charles Dickens, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Frances Parkman, and James Fennimore Cooper.

While in Claymont I ate lunch at Boston Market, and began chatting with Aaron and his wife, two senior citizens from Wilmington. They pointed out the window at a large school across the street. “That’s where Joe Biden went to school,” he said, and pointed out another window at the opposite street, “And he grew up in that neighborhood over there.” If Joe Biden was home I could have asked him for a ride to the White House.

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Route 13

Taking Route 13 towards Wilmington. As you can probably tell from the previous two picture, I lightened this photo. It really was a dark, dismal, gray day.

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Staying

The Robinson House in Claymont, Delaware. Sitting at a major crossroad between Philadelphia and Baltimore, this tavern in northern Delaware became an important guesthouse during colonial times, even hosting George Washington (that guy slept everywhere). Speaking of people who sleep everywhere, I have to thank Maureen and Jim for putting me up as I walked through Chester on Monday evening, and Amie for putting me up as I walked through Delaware on Tuesday evening. I had stayed with Amie, my teammate from AmeriCorps year in ’01, during my walk in ’08, and it’s always fun to spend time with her. And I got in touch with Maureen and Jim through another cross country runner, Helene Neville. That was a huge help because I didn’t know anyone in that corner of Pennsylvania. And it turned out they have connections to my hometown – Jim’s daughters play on the lacrosse team at Annapolis and one of the schools they travel to is Holy Cross in Worcester.

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DELAWARE!

Made it to The First State (which was actually my sixth state on this walk).

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“All-Out Warfare”

Unfortunately, Chester had/has somewhat of a bad reputation, and the family with whom I was staying insisted on picking me up as soon as I reached the town line, instead of walking further that night. It was probably a good idea… as this frontpage story says, Chester saw a disturbing spike in gun violence that weekend. The small print in the corner reads “Police search for clues last night on 14th and Kerlin Streets after a man was shot in the face. It was the fourth shooting in Chester since Friday. Seven people have been wounded.”

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Chester, PA

Coming through Chester, PA. This is actually the second Chester through which I’ve walked, the first being Chester, Illinois. When I passed through the Pennsylvania Chester in December 2008, I found Chester homes had the best Christmas light displays.

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Sharon Hill, PA

Sharon Hill (no relation – haha), Pennsylvania. This is where blues singer Bessie Smith, who was the highest paid black entertainer in the 1920s and 30s is buried. She died in a car wreck in Mississippi in 1937. About 10,000 attended her funeral. Her first husband absconded with funds for her headstone, so she lay in an unmarked grave until 1970, when another famous blues woman named Janis Joplin helped pay for a proper marker. (Thanks Wikipedia).

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Darby, PA

The electric trolley in Darby, PA. The gray clouds behind opened up and started drizzling by the end of the day.

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Meeting the Mayor

Before I left the Fresh Start offices, Leslie, the director, had telephones the Mayor of Darby to tell her “There’s a guy here who’s going to meet the president.” She wanted to meet me, so Leslie gave me the address to her house and I walked on over. Mayor Helen Thomas poses and me with a few awkward-looking high school students (who were collared for the photo on the sidewalk as they were walking home – haha!).

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Fresh Start

On my way through Darby I stopped in the Fresh Start Program, which gives teens homework help and provides after school activities. Here Leslie, the program director, writes her letter to President Obama. She even included a little prayer for me. This was Monday before Thanksgiving, and the turkeys on the table were to be distributed to local families.

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Norwood, PA

Norwood, PA, home of the Morton Morton House. Yes, the guy’s name was Morton Morton. But he was born in 1701 and after 14 other kids his parents ran out of ideas in the name game.

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South Philadelphia

After talking at my nieces’ school on Monday morning, I ate lunch and set out for Chester, PA. This was scrawled in the men’s room of a gas station in south philly. Ha!

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I’m big in the 3rd grade

I have two nieces, 10 and 7, and Monday morning I went to their classrooms to give a small talk on my walk across country and getting to meet the president. I also allowed them, as a class, to nominate any issue they felt was important for President Obama to know, and then vote (by secret ballot) for two or three of those concerns to be included in the book. The fourth grade felt “students should be able to choose classes and not have to wear school uniforms,” while the second grade students felt “people should not be allowed to ride their motorcycles at night (and make a lot of noise while people are sleeping) and also people should be made to pick up their trash and not litter.” I’m happy to say Those notes went directly into the hands of Barack Obama.

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Lazy Sunday Afternoon

I arrived at my cousin’s house in University City late Saturday night, and I had planned to take Sunday and Monday morning off. It was a good thing, too. My left ankle was still throbbing from the sprain a week before and I was taking stairs one at a time. I didn’t even want to think about limping the next 140 miles. Furio the cat had the right idea… just sit back, relax, and watch Sunday afternoon football.

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Best House Pizzaria

Stopping for dinner and messages at Best House Pizzaria on South 43rd Street. The owners are from Haiti so we talked about my trip there with Habitat for Humanity in ’10. “Tell President Obama if he comes to Best House, we’ll give him a free pizza.” I forgot to ask if he gets a topping with that.

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LOVE

Finally in Philadelphia! But the problem with cities is because the sprawl out so much, you can walk into the city boundary and still be hours and hours away from your destination. That was me huffing to get to Spruce Hill as it got later and darker and colder. When I saw this LOVE repro on the UPenn campus around 9:00, I knew I was close.

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Philadelphia

Some cool-looking architecture which I passed while walking into Philly.

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City of Brotherly Love

I gotta say, Philadelphia was a pretty friendly city. Lots of folks were open to chatting. Roseann was selling cool-looking hand-made knit hats and scarves on the sidewalk. When she learned about my walk she asked to take some photos with me. Then she ducked into the Natural Nails and got the owners to come out and meet me.

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Judy

While walking into northeast Philadelphia, I met Judy, an unemployed woman who was holding an ad-hoc yard sale to try raise rent money for the month. She wrote a page and a half letter to President Obama. “Everything’s online nowadays,” she says. “How am I supposed to apply for jobs if I don’t have a computer?”

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Celeste and Latifa

While I was walking near Penndel, college students Celeste and Latifa pulled their car over to see what I was about.

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MaryLynn

A better photo of me and MaryLynn when we met in Fairless Hills, PA.

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MaryLynn

Friday was kind of a weird day. I should have been walking on the same roads I walked on in 2008, but I didn’t seem to recognize any landmarks. I did stop by a steel union headquarters to ask if I could sit at their picnic table for lunch, and ended up chatting with one of the union leaders who had met Barack Obama when he was in the area touring a Gamesa, Inc. project in Pennsylvania. Here I am walking to mee the president, and this random stranger shows me a photo of him standing next to the president. Too funny!
That night I reached Fairless Hills, where my friend Ashley had generously donated a hotel room. I went out to dinner that evening with MaryLynn a reporter from New Jersey. MaryLynn was the intrepid newswoman who tracked down information on the unfortunate rail worker I had tried to help a few days earlier. Afterwards I went back to the hotel and watched Peanuts Thanksgiving on TV.

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What would the Founding Fathers say to President Obama?

From here it looks like Founding Father Robert Morris is writing his message to the president.

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Robert Morris, The Original Bailer Out

The town of Morrisville, NJ, is named after Robert Morris, “The Financier of the American Revolution.” He signed the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution. By raising money and putting his own credit on the line he helped to bail out Washington’s continental army, and later the newly established government, again and again. In one instance he put down $1.5 million dollars of his own cash, twice as much money as all thirteen colonies combined had contributed in taxes. Ironically, despite a slew of titles and offices held in his lifetime, and owning the lands which would become known as upstate New York and Washington, DC, he over-leveraged his company and went bankrupt in the Panic of 1797. He ended up bankrupt and in prison.
Three things… 1. the story of his rise and crash resonates in today’s economic climate… 2. he’s not to be confused with Haym Solomon, the *other* Financier of the American Revolution… and 3. if his estate in Philadelphia had been chosen (or I should say, remained) for the seat of the nation’s capital, I sure would have had a lot less miles to walk!

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The Keystone State

Yay! Friday morning I walked into Morrisville, Pennsylvania, the fifth state of my walk. I’d planned to reach Philadelphia the next night and have a day off with my family on Sunday.

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Delaware River

Friday was a pretty nice day, and Delaware River seagulls were enjoying the sun on the pier of the Morrisville Bridge.

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Goodbye New Jersey!

One last look at New Jersey, before I cross over the newly-reconstructed Morrisville Bridge.

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Trenton

Walking into downtown Trenton. On the way through I stopped at the local Catholic Charities on North Clinton Ave to ask the director to pen a message to the president.

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Darlisa

I wasn’t planning on dallying long in Trenton on Friday morning, but when I found my route took me past the Occupy Trenton encampment I stopped in collect a few messages for the president. Instead of a group of protesters, I found one woman – Darlisa – who was holding down the fort. We began talking, and I kind of felt bad because she wanted to go home, but she couldn’t leave the tents and equipment unattended, and she didn’t know when any other Occupiers were going to come back. I also felt bad because she told me she was shot at with a paint gun by a sedan which had been been creeping around the past few nights. She showed me the paint stain on her winter coat and her blankets. Anyways, Darlisa was nice, she offered me a package of muffins for breakfast as she wrote her letter and then I headed towards downtown.

—– Forwarded message —–
From: “highwaytohill@yahoo.com” <highwaytohill@yahoo.com>
Date: Tue, Feb 21, 2012 3:41 am
Subject: Darlisa
To: “MobyPictures” <onepicdaily.9611Mobypicture.com>

I wasn’t planning on dallying long in Trenton on Friday morning, but when I found my route took me past the Occupy Trenton encampment I stopped in collect a few messages for the president. Instead of a group of protesters, I found one woman – Darlisa – who was holding down the fort. We began talking, and I kind of felt bad because she wanted to go home, but she couldn’t leave the tents and equipment unattended, and she didn’t know when any other Occupiers were going to come back. I also felt bad because she told me she was shot at with a paint gun by a sedan which had been been creeping around the past few nights. She showed me the paint stain on her winter coat and her blankets. Anyways, Darlisa was nice, she offered me a package of muffins for breakfast as she wrote her letter and then I headed towards downtown.

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Can You Picket Me Now?

I like staying with friends whom I haven’t seen in a while, but I do appreciate the chill-out time afforded by staying at the occasional hotel. No fear of inconveniencing my host, making a mess, staying up late, or being dull. At a hotel I can just kick back turn off my mind for the night.
The next morning I checked out and quickly ran into this group of Verizon workers, who were picketing the local Verizon wireless branch. We talked for a while, they signed the book and posed for photos before the police arrived and relocated them further away from the store.

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Occupy Trenton

Another view of the all-but-abandoned Occupy Trenton encampment.

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Welcome to Trenton

Leaving Lawrence, I continued on Rt 1…. unfortunately I didn’t know that becomes the Trenton Freeway. It was inky dark before a patrol car picked me up brought me back to Brunswick Ave (*BUSINESS* 1). Whew. That was enough walking for one day.
I stayed with Mary and her family in East Windsor, another friend from Northeastern Univ I hadn’t seen since my walk in ’08. Her daughter is growing bigger and bigger, and Mary’s mom always cracks me up.
The next morning Mary dropped me off in Lawrence and I quickly made it into Trenton (on the correct road). On the way through the Capitol City I found the cheapest haircut I’ve ever seen in America. The downside is you have to come all the way to Trenton.

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This is a cool story….

Even though Ms. Snow couldn’t join us in Lawrence, NJ, she was there in spirit.
While she and the film crew were interviewing me in Michael’s Diner that December afternoon in 2008, she suggested we walk outside to tape a few more questions. While we were strolling on the sidewalk a woman in an office saw the cameras and recognized Kate Snow from World News Tonight. She introduced herself and asked to take a few photos of us. It was pretty fun. Then we traded email addresses so we could mail each other the photos.
When I learned I’d be doing this walk in 2011, I once emailed Bella and told her I’d once again be walking through Lawrence. She asked me to stop by the office, where she presented me with a much-welcome bag of food – sandwich, chips, soda, fruit, cookie. Then she printed out the old photo and we stood by the sign where we posed with Kate Snow almost three years before.
As Amy and Emily would say, The new road is an old friend.

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Michael’s Diner

Michael’s Diner in Lawrence, NJ. This is where, almost three years before, reporter Kate Snow and her crew met me to film a segment for “ABC World News Tonight with Charles Gibson.”
In October ’11, when I learned I would be meeting President Obama, I sent emails to all the press contacts I had made three years prior. About half were bounced back. A couple, like Jean Marbella from the Baltimore Sun, arrnaged to do follow up stories. But I was shocked at the number of outlets who covered my walk in ’08 who wanted nothing to do with me once I told them I was actually meeting the president. Stories were pitched to NPR, CNN, Kate Snow at ABC, even Dr. Phil – all outlets who spent time on me previously, mind you – and either I, or the original reporter who interviewed me – never heard boo back. Talk about frustrating.
Coincidently, across the street (at my back as I took this picture) from this diner is a gas station. A young guy I met there, after learning why I was walking, swore up and down he could get me on the Daily Show (Jon Stewart went to Lawrence High School and this man claimed he had friends who worked for the show). We exchanged numbers and guess what… never heard boo back.

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The Non-Beauty of Route 1

Had I not had a hard deadline to meet President Obama, I would have glady added an extra few days and taken more indirect, scenic byroads through New Jersey. But I didn’t want to play with my schedule so I took the most direct route there, Route 1. Strip malls and jersey barriers and traffic, Route 1 isn’t pretty road for rambling. At one point I somehow found myself stranded on this median between lanes.

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Living dangerously

This truck exists to be hit by cars. (Actually the idea is that wayward vehicles will crash into this shock-resistant bed, thus saving anyone further up in the line of parked construction vehicles.) Interesting idea…

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South Brunswick, NJ

Walking through South Brunswick. In December 2008 I don’t think I saw the sun the entire time I was coming through New Jersey; as you can see from this photo three years later the Garden State didn’t let me down.

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South in New Jersey

I passed through to South Central New Jersey. The night of Tuesday, November 15 I stayed with Adrienne and Skip. I first met Adrienne through CouchSurfing when I came through New Jersey during my walk in 2008. The next morning I met up with Aaron for breakfast before I started in down town Metuchen. While we were eating, reporter Kerry Drew called and asked if we could meet for a short interview. So we filmed on the sidewalk.
The rest of the day on Highway 1 was pretty dull and uneventful, though I stayed with my former boss, Alison, later that night in South Brunswick.

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Metuchen, NJ

Serenaded (yes, they sang to me) by a couple of old drinking buddies on Main Street, Metuchen. In fact, their crooning was so good I called Jen to listen in.

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This Is Highland Park

Ok, the holidays took over and I haven’t updated in a while… it’s time I got back into posting my photos. I walked into Highland Park, November 16th. It was a cold, rainy, gray day, but today was one of the two times during my trip that a stranger remembered my walk from 2008. So that was pretty neat.
Oh, and thanks to Adriane and Skip for hosting me the previous night in Woodbridge. CouchSurfing is a wonderful thing!

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This is where it happened

Ok guys, this isn’t an easy story for me tell but it’s an important part of the walk(s). I just want to put the basic facts out there and never discuss it again.
*Please don’t comment on this post.*
This photo is of a railroad tracks in Metuchen, New Jersey. Here the highspeed train (from Newark to Philadelphia I guess?) runs adjacent to Highway 27.
As I was passing by on Tuesday afternoon, on the other side of the fence was an Amtrak crew working on the rails.
A minute after I passed by them, one of the men collapsed. I told a worker nearby I was an EMT and he said they might need me. I dropped my pack, sprinted back to the the gate, and then to the victim. I couldn’t find a pulse and began CPR. A few minutes later the ambulance and police arrived. They attached an AED, shocked the patient, boarded him and loaded him in the ambulance. With nothing else for me to do, I took my pack and continued down the road.
The three things to know about this story…
1. I took off my watch to take a pulse and in the confusion, left it on the ground. It wasn’t a particularly expensive watch, but besides my wallet, that was the last physical object to have accomapnied me all 4700 miles of my walk (the last thing before that was my Red Sox hat, which I left in Jen’s parents’ car in Connecticut).
2. While I was running I did something to my left ankle. It would hurt to put pressure on or take pressure off, from that night in New Jersey all the way to Washington.
3. I learned from an intrepid reporter (who made phone calls, tracked leads, and pushed the HIPAA line for days) that Mike didn’t make it. He died an hour after arriving at the ER. It was just a week before Thanksgiving.
If there was one thing I could change about the walk(s), this would be it.

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