1976.2.16
Fort Smith, Arkansas
This competition leaves one pretty exhausted most of the time, so I haven't had much of a chance to write in this journal.
Clarksdale, Mississippi, was where we made a $200 team average for the first time. I drove that day and it felt like an important symbolic victory because Clarksdale is where the legend of the crossroads is. It's said that bluesman Robert Johnson sold his soul to Satan at the crossroads one night a long time ago, and ever since then it's been part of the local folklore. So I think making a $200 team average helps loosen Satan's claim on this town.
In Cleveland, Mississippi, we ran into Aiden Barry's 71st Street MFT from New York, and we have been running behind them all across Arkansas. So many towns we hit were burned out. We suffered and struggled so much our second week of competition. No one could seem to break through.
In Newport, the town really had it out for us. We got a traffic ticket the night we arrived and we all got arrested the next day for soliciting without a permit: mugshots, fingerprints, even a short stay behind bars until Tim could get the money from the van to bail us out. It was very educational.
Richard talked to the detective for a long time about Divine Principle and the Bible, but finally the detective was so spiritually defeated he threw us in jail.
After a few more towns we hit Jonesboro, where we were once again hauled in for soliciting without a permit. But they didn't book us. They just told us to knock it off. Now we are in Fort Smith.
Last Saturday night I made $300 in the Woolco parking lot in the Phoenix Shopping Center, but except for that we have been struggling very much. Today we got a Japanese sister, Mariko, on the team, so our spiritual problems should be solved and we can have a truly unified team.
Recently I have taken to slapping my face really hard, beating myself up in order to feel God's heart. It's kind of scary to think about, but it works.