Journal Entries

Day four, I thought, was icing on the cake. First, I met my walking goal, walking from the Alabama border in Century to Pensacola—75,000 steps down and 925,000 to go. Second, I had another radio interview and then spoke to a few Pensacola newspapers. Third, I met an amazing and inspirational woman named Kristin Fairchild who heads up a group called Chain Reaction. This program is incredible! To date, over one thousand high school students are engaged and participating in this Escambia County-based volunteer program.

Chain Reaction is about volunteerism but also about character building and leadership development. This program is providing teens with the tools they need to be great volunteers. It then connects them with non-profit agencies in the area that benefit tremendously from their service. It is truly awesome work that is making great impact on those involved and those who benefit from the services they provide.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so physically and mentally drained. I’ve walked almost forty miles in these first few days and interacted with great people operating truly miraculous programs. I have learned so much about the difficult economic and social problems in Northwest Florida and wish I could do more to help. The media exposure, I hope, has been helpful. I want people to know these programs exist.

Today, I’ve walked another 12 miles. With 20 miles behind me I feel tired, but am energized and excited about this trek I’m on. As I walk, I am alert to my surroundings, being careful to watch for cars, trucks, snakes, and even dogs. It’s funny—the things you encounter when you walk along stretches of highway meant only for cars. It’s funny too, the things you think about with time on your hands. For me, on this walk, I think of my dad.

It’s hard to believe this day has finally arrived. I’ve been thinking about the walk for a long time and so today, in Century, Florida, I start. Most Floridians, I imagine, aren’t very familiar with this small town in Florida’s northwest corner, but I am reminded of someone who was; my father. Being here evokes powerful memories for me, memories of the walk my dad started almost 40 years ago—that too is hard to believe.

My first step is nostalgic. I think, “What was it like for my father when he took his first step? What must have gone through his mind all those lonely days on the road, with nothing but cars and trucks passing by, a hot sun overhead?” And then I’m reminded of the journey that lies ahead for me. I think, “Have I plumb lost my mind? Who in their right mind would dare walk 566 miles from the Alabama line to Miami?” And again, I’m reminded of my father.

Forty years ago, my dad started walking. Forty years ago, he did what no one else had tried to do before him, and probably what no one would have wanted to do. He put on the boots that would eventually give him the moniker, “Walkin’ Lawton,” and from Century to Miami, worked hard to understand the real needs of Florida’s people, ones he got close to and hoped some day to serve as a US Senator. That thought pains me some to think about how close he got to people and then realize most politicians never will. It shouldn’t be that way.