One of many memories I have of Reverend Moon is from the time he spoke in Dallas, Texas in 1973 as part of his Day of Hope speaking tour of major U.S. cities. On the night of his speech in Dallas, I had been asked, along with a few other young members, to watch the small house where Reverend Moon would sleep that night. After the speech was over, we waited for his return.
We stood in the front yard, near the sidewalk leading to the front door. Of course, my expectation was to see Reverend Moon happily returning after having touched the hearts of many hundreds of people in the audience—people who as I hoped, would have been deeply interested in his message. At the very least, I expected to see my pastor as I had always seen him—emanating love, confidence and energy.
What I saw shocked me. As Father walked up the sidewalk toward the front door, he looked ashen-faced and utterly drained of energy. Of course, the next time I would see him, he was back to his usual exuberant self, but this night I had the profound sense of his being, at that moment, simply drained beyond belief. I had the sense of his having given everything he had and then still more, in the effort to convey God’s love and ideals to his audience. It was then that I realized that for Reverend Moon, speaking in public is not something easily done. It is often an intense battle, a tremendous effort in which he invests all of his heart, mind, and spirit.
I Am in This Place, pp. 86-87.