Cristen Quinn, “We walked the 150 miles from Omaha to Des Moines”

It was March 1974 and Father was on the 32-city speaking tour. I was in the Nebraska family. (It was a family in those days.) The Nebraska family had experienced True Parents the previous November when Father had come to Omaha for the 21-city tour.

We wanted to help bring people to the Iowa speech and we wanted to offer something special, so we brainstormed and came up with a plan to walk to Des Moines, Iowa from Omaha to advertise his speaking tour. We got crates and crates of bananas, rubber-banded fliers to them about the walk to see Father and passed them out at lunch rush hour in downtown Lincoln. We got five people to come with us on our walk.

For five days we walked the 150 miles from Omaha to Des Moines. Each night we camped in Christian church basements in different little Iowa towns. Each evening after our meal, the Divine Principle lectures would start. The night before Father was to speak, we gave Conclusion to the guests. In tears all five accepted our True Parents and signed to join with us to build God’s Kingdom of Heaven on earth. Our prayers were fervent! Our hearts were joyous! We would soon see our True Parents, and we were bringing them new children.

Father was in a small rented house located in one of the Des Moines suburbs. We were slowed down that day because the press stopped us and the weather turned cold. It started sleeting and snowing. Just two hours before Father’s speech, we finally made it to within blocks of his house. I was in front of the line with Anna Swearson. We saw Father in the distance and screamed, "Father is in the yard!" Anna and I broke into the fastest run we could muster. As I got closer I saw he was beaming and clapping for us. Can you imagine how we felt to have him clapping for us? When we got to Father we literally dived at his feet. We would have stayed there forever but he touched our backs as if to say "It’s okay. You can get up."

We followed him into the house and all crowded into the small living room. Father was visibly moved by what we had done. Father talked to us and asked questions of the new members and state leader about what we’d done. And then he pointed to me and said, "Cristen, how are your parents?" I was amazed he remembered my name. I said, "Father, they are very negative." (see “Persecution” Testimony) He said, "You must love them." I have to admit that was kind of a new thought for me at the time.

He had us all sing songs to him. And I think he had Mother sing to us. Then he got serious and spoke to us till right before his speech. He talked for a long time to this dirty, ragged little bunch about the early days in Korea when they were so poor that the only diversion he could give to the members was to take them for walks. He told us that what we had done reminded him of how they would walk miles into the countryside. He saw us off outside and waved.

Within a half an hour he was speaking publicly. What a Dad!

From 40 Years in America, pp. 95-96.

(see photos below)

Martin Porter, “There was no question of can we get people to the banquet and speech … we just had to”

In January 1973, 120 members from Europe chartered a flight from London to the U.S. to support Father’s speaking tour. We arrived in the U.S. on about January 15, and spent some 15 days with Father, living at Belvedere, while he taught us in a most personal way. Every meal, three times a day, we would be there together with him. This was such a great time to learn and understand his vision. I went back and forth between Europe and the U.S. five times that year to confer with Father. He did everything to please and entertain us, buying us suits, ties, shoes like any parent might for their child. We could ask him freely about all sorts of things. Of those 120 European members, 20 came from Italy.

Membership in Italy flourished, and I returned in September with an additional 30 new members. This time Father asked me to stay and support his speaking tour, which started with Carnegie Hall in New York on September 18.

Father had organized the One World Crusade in February 1972, at the outset of his seven-city speaking tour. This first tour included primarily members from the U.S. Following this victory he wanted to bring a message of God’s hope to America, and further to embrace the whole world. He then invited representatives of the whole world to come to this country to help restore man back to the position of God’s children through further speaking tours -- 21 cities, 32 cities and a final eight-city tour by 1974.

During the 21-city tour, there were only three IOWC teams. My role was to be the liaison between Father and the teams. This meant that almost on a daily basis I would fly off to the next city, examine the whole situation, check on the hall where Father would speak, the banquet facilities, numbers of confirmed guests to both, Father’s accommodation, problem areas, media, etc., and return to Father with a report.

In October and November that year I took more than 44 flights! If you were wondering how I did it, I think it is better to wonder how True Parents did it; how serene, supporting and uplifting they were every day.

After working for a year as a liaison between Father and the IOWC teams, Father formed the new IOWC teams to spearhead the way for the upcoming 32-city tour. My team was the 5th team and was originally comprised of 20 Japanese, 10 Italians, 22 French, 15 Americans and one German; it was quite a challenge to establish unity, convey directions and accomplish the strategy of the campaign. I usually spoke in English and then in Italian, while the two other interpreters translated into French and Japanese! This was a great testimony to True Parents, as no other motive than to fulfill their vision and God’s Will could have brought us all to work together.

Though I was greatly challenged, I knew we had to be successful. There was no question of can we get people to the banquet and speech, or how can we get the appropriate facilities; we just had to. There was no margin for doubt! For the 32-city tour, the U.S. was divided up and each state was assigned an IOWC team. Our team was responsible for New Haven, Connecticut, February 23 and 24th; Birmingham, Alabama, March 9 and 10; Jackson, Mississippi, March 23 and 24; and Fargo, North Dakota, April 6 and 7.

These cities were very far apart and we were in the middle of the gas crisis. At that time, one could only purchase $2 worth of gas at one visit to the pump!

Can you imagine moving with 9 vehicles, traveling such distances and only being allowed to get $2 worth of gas? During the first campaign, we lived in New Haven, and only commuted one hour’s drive, or about 60 miles one way to Hartford. Thus, in the early morning our vehicles were lined up at the gas station before they opened, and we were lined up again before we reached our destination.

The Jackson, Mississippi campaign was unique. I think the city had never seen so many foreigners and certainly no Orientals! One day my secretary answered the phone, only to hear that some members had been arrested. She was Japanese and would always pretend she had misunderstood what people said so that she could say whatever she wanted them to hear; how we loved God and humanity, etc., but this time the policeman was very upset, so I took the call, and said I would come down to the station right away. When I arrived I heard singing coming from the building. On entering, I met the police chief, who said, "Get them out of here!" I went in to the main room, only to find that Kimiko Tsukamito, who had a voice like a bird, had all the policemen in a line, singing songs. The arresting officer would not hear of me taking them away, but insisted that he return them, along with their boxes of product, to the same street corners where he had arrested them!

In spite of the frustration of the gas crisis, we possessed a powerful determination. And through all difficulties we felt charged with motivation, which, we were aware, was not being generated from ourselves alone. For many of us, it was the first experience of cooperation with those in spirit world. Only this could explain the miracles that transpired to help us accomplish our mission.

One constant example was that in spite of the gas shortage, gas attendants at crucial times were moved to fill up our tanks anyway. Doors opened to meet city officials and leaders who were normally inaccessible. Our faith was constantly put to the test, and then deeply rewarded through the unforeseen events that helped us achieve our goals.

Then came the 8-city tour, beginning with Madison Square Garden, on September 18, 1974. On entering New York City, I fell in love with it. The atmosphere was so different from the last time when I had been there for the Carnegie Hall campaign. I just knew we were going to succeed. One must remember that until that time we had never brought more than 1,400 people to any of Father’s speeches, and to fill the 25,000-seat Madison Square Garden was a sheer act of faith.

From 40 Years in America, pp. 123-26.

Nancy Hanna, “Pioneering the State of Louisiana”

Father gave $500 seed money to each state leader to pioneer the church. I headed south in a van with half a dozen other pioneers. They dropped me off at a grocery store in New Orleans. I headed straight for the YWCA. I began a three-day fast and a seven-day condition to walk around the city all day picking up garbage. In my trek, I witnessed to a nun who invited me to board at the Dominican College, a women’s college. Here, my roommate was going out on a date with a fellow named George Glass. It wasn’t a serious relationship and as she talked about him -- he had studied to be a priest -- I felt that I should witness to him.

I found a tiny apartment and bought a small table and two chairs at the Salvation Army. Next came a blackboard and I was all set to teach. To support myself financially, I also got a part-time job as a cleaning lady at the LSU dental school.

I had been studying my notes from Pres. Young Whi Kim’s lectures intensively. With great anticipation, I invited George, who came for a series of eight lectures -- the first I had ever taught. Not amazingly, everything made a great deal of sense to him. He even took the Conclusion in stride and simply asked, "Okay. What should I do now?"

That was lucky since the bus team headed by missionary David Kim was arriving in a few weeks and we needed to find a larger center for them to stay. By that time, another sister and I had rented a New Orleans "shotgun" house (long and narrow) in the historic section on. Still with no furniture, we made a large, beautiful felt banner with our movement’s motto: "Let us go forth in the shoes of a servant, shedding sweat for earth, tears for man and blood for heaven."

I had already been to the city’s major paper, The Times Picayune, which had written an article about my mission to found a church in Louisiana. Now I told the press that a very important bus team was coming -- and this time the TV cameramen showed up -- albeit a little disappointed at the size and humbleness of our bus team! David Kim was incredible -- energetic, supportive and fatherly. As a truly veteran pioneer, he taught his bus team and we New Orleans members to street preach and witness up a storm.

With the bus team gone, I continued witnessing, mostly on the nearby campuses of Tulane and Loyola Universities. Students would come for a two-day seminar at our house. After each spiritual child heard the conclusion, I did a 3-day fast for them to accept DP and dedicate themselves to the cause. George had a full-time job so I had been able to quit my lady janitor job. (This was during pre-fundraising days.) George came with a fire engine red Pontiac Firebird and a little later Mitch Dixon joined with a florescent blue late-model car as well. I think we had the fanciest wheels of any pioneer center. The working members kept their jobs and by pooling our resources, we did fine financially.

From Tulane University, six students joined and dedicated themselves -- five of them are still dedicated members. Everyone of them left Tulane University, considered an ivy league school of the south, very shortly after hearing the Principle. They were that kind of people. They understood immediately the depth and importance of the Divine Principle and the need to dedicate themselves totally to help Father.

Their parents all came to visit them. They listened to Divine Principle themselves and trusted the decision of their children, God bless them. This was before the days of the media hysteria about brainwashing. When I think of the fine families all these members have today, I know those parents are still glad they trusted their children, although it could not have been easy.

My faith and focus had been to fulfill 1-1-1 (one new member each month each year) and with some help from the bus team, it was fulfilled our first year!

*

The 1972 purchase of the 4411 Canal St. house was most fortunate because Father, Mother and their entourage stayed there during the 1973 Day of Hope Tour, leaving Louisiana forever with a priceless landmark. I can never forget how at speech time we all squeezed into that house: Father and Mother in the prayer room, Col. Pak in a bedroom, Mrs. Won Bok Choi in the breakfast niche we had enclosed, Pres. and Mrs. Salonen and other assorted members of the entourage were in bedrooms in the basement.

There were a couple of firsts. At the banquet Father was presented with the keys to the City of New Orleans from the mayor’s representative. This was the first time Father received this honor. Soon it became the standard. I also wrote and published New Hope News, the first tabloid newspaper about our movement. We printed 20,000 of them and distributed them all over the city as we visited house-to-house inviting people to the lecture. Father liked it so much he ordered that it be done by National HQ on a regular basis: New Hope News later evolved into Unification News.

With a publicity budget for which New Orleans members had fundraised, I had huge billboards of Father and his message "Christianity in Crisis" put up all over the city. It was an exciting experience when Father and Mother drove in from the airport to see their faces as they spotted a huge picture of Father on a billboard along the highway. Of course, they stopped and took photos!

From 40 Years in America, pp. 77-78, 97

Levi Daugherty, “Washington Monument”

We had all these buses ready to go to the Monument. All the buses were loaded and there were still about 65 people who didn’t have any transportation. They were upset. This one lady, an enormous fat lady, said, "I am going to the Monument." She laid down on the ground in front of the bus and wouldn’t let it go. She said, "If I’m not going, nobody’s going." It was on the tails of the 1960s, civil rights. If you wanted something, you lay down.

There were a bunch of cars parked there as everyone was going to ride in the bus. We were embarrassed to drive our car -- it was old and dirty. But she didn’t care. She said, "Let’s drive that." We had an old, raggedy station wagon. She had a chicken, and a cooler, and she said, "Let’s take that car." She was determined that she was going. We were exhausted. We had about 17 buses going from Norfolk.

So we had this big fat lady and her entourage. She called Burt Leavitt, Mr. God Bless America. "Mr. God Bless America, let’s take your car!"

So we left. About halfway there, Burt was falling asleep at the wheel and she said, "Mr. God Bless America, you gonna get us there or you gonna get us killed. Pull over!" And she made him move and she drove us, talking all the way. She was going to get there come hell or high water. She kept saying, "Let’s Go!" We had to lug her cooler for about a mile. It was red with a white top, I can still see it. Then we had to go back for a second load of her stuff. It seemed like there was a million people around.

When we drove back we were so exhausted, she drove the car all the way back! She talked the whole way and sang "God Bless America" all the way back. She fed us chicken and she tried to wake Burt up by feeding him. But the more he ate, the sleepier he got. What a day!

From 40 Years in America, p. 173.