Yankee Stadium

1976.6.1
Yankee Stadium

I'm sitting here in the lower level of Yankee Stadium, trying to just take it all in. It's very early in the morning and my mission, as it was yesterday, is security. The rally won't happen until tonight. So as I sit here I will try to get caught up in my journal.

I can't help but wonder what is the real meaning of Yankee Stadium? What does HF think and look for from this event? It means so many things on so many levels. I guess most important is it represents the top of the growth stage of the messiah's mission on the world-wide level, or perhaps it's the national level. Anyway, it's the point in the career of Jesus where he was betrayed and finally crucified. It's so difficult to really understand or appreciate. Sitting in this seat I'm in the same position as the disciples who fell asleep in the Garden of Gethsemane. So we must indemnify that failure by staying awake and guarding the stadium from saboteurs. Today will either be a day of glory or a day of tragedy.

The stage, which we watched them build yesterday, is in the shape of a cross. It will either be a throne for Father or the site of his crucifixion. We're told there have been many threats on his life and he has requested strict security. So all the MFT brothers have been chosen for this mission. Mr. Kamiyama said that he can only really trust MFT. I guess they figure a Communist infiltrator could never last more than a month on MFT, which makes sense to me.

We received our assignment the day before yesterday and they put us on special security teams. My captain's name is Paul Valin. He strongly resembles Greg Caputo. I told him I was on the sixth day of a seven-day fast. He thought about it for a minute, then asked me to break it. He said he didn't want me weak or spaced out when there were so many possible threats. He said that I would not really be breaking the condition because it was for a higher purpose. But I was hesitant to end my fast early. I only had seven hours to go. So he asked me, "Which is more important? Your fast or Father's life?"

So that sort of convinced me, and after I accepted it I couldn't wait to get something to eat. In my mind I felt I should probably clear it with Captain Yasuda first, since he was my Abel figure, but I didn't know where he was, and besides I was pretty sure he'd say I should unite with Paul, and if Paul said to break the fast I should. Anyway, I rationalized that I didn't need Captain Yasuda's permission to break my fast since Paul, my temporary Abel, asked me to. So I immediately headed over to McDonald's and ordered a Quarter Pounder with cheese and fries and a chocolate milkshake, because I had been craving chocolate milk more than anything.

I've always been told that breaking a long fast had to be done carefully and slowly, usually nothing stronger than miso soup. But I felt no ill effects from the Quarter Pounder, except I was a little sad the fast was over. I really had been looking forward to going the whole seven days, and I had been so close. Anyway, too late to do anything about it now.

Yesterday we came to the stadium and each person was assigned a section of seats to be responsible to watch. Of course, there was no one here except people building the stage and rigging giant bags full of balloons. But I understood it was more of a spiritual condition, just like when Jesus asked the three disciples to pray for one hour but instead they fell asleep. So the idea was to observe the activities and to meditate upon the significance of Yankee Stadium and above all stay awake.

Actually, it's too mind boggling to think about. Important Korean leaders of the Unification Church in Seoul and people like Lady Dr. Kim have been here to perform various rituals like driving around the stadium seven times, sprinkling holy salt. We finally left to go back to the World Mission Center about 8:30 pm to eat and get a little rest, but we had to come back at 1 am to keep watch until morning. It's been a struggle, but I've managed to stay awake. There's not a whole lot to do but just pray and set a good spiritual atmosphere.

Quite frankly, it will probably be a zoo tonight. Or so they say, based on past rallies. I really hope this one is different. I'm praying this will be a holy event, that people who come will see Reverend Moon and they will understand he is the messiah. I have half a notion that the sky will open up and there will be some sort of miracle that everyone will witness, like when John the Baptist saw the dove descend on Jesus in the Jordan River and he heard the voice of God say, "This is my son, with whom I am well pleased." If only people, especially Christians, would just give Father a chance.

It is now 5:30 am. What happens about 12 hours from now will alter the entire course of human history, but which way only God knows. 

Yankee Stadium: What Really Happened

1976.6.2

Today is Day of All Things, the fourth of four holy days in the Unification Church. Yankee Stadium is history.

To try to capture the rally in this journal will require all my concentrated effort. As near as I can recall, things were samo-samo up until about 4:45 pm. A 70-foot hot air balloon was being inflated on the field, and large white letters that spelled out GOD BLESS AMERICA were being laid out in the outfield. It had been a beautiful, sunny day all afternoon.

Then the wind kicked up, and a big gust blew the balloon over on top of the letters. The balloon broke and all the air came out. As it was being packed up, a stronger gust came and tore the letters from the field. Huge pieces of white letters started flying everywhere. The whole thing was destroyed in a couple seconds. It was a mess.

The sky turned dark and a terrific storm blew in. It rained really hard for about ten minutes. The bags of balloons secured to the upper railings were getting blown all about, and I struggled in the rain to secure one. The only crowd at this point was mostly parents and guests. Everyone began singing "You Are My Sunshine," and eventually the rain stopped and about half an hour later the sun came out.

But I looked over the soggy remains of what was supposed to have been and couldn't help but feel it was some sort of terrible judgment. My heart sank at the sight.

The stadium never filled, only 80 percent, and the majority were kids, mostly black and Puerto Rican from Harlem and the Bronx.

When Father came out and started speaking in Korean, the crowd became absolutely possessed and began to boo and hiss. Father spoke briefly but very powerfully. Much of the crowd left during his speech. Everyone who came had been given a plastic flag to wave, but the kids tore the flags off the sticks and turned the sticks into daggers.

They stormed the bags of balloons tied to the railings, which were supposed to be released as part of the grand finale. From across the stadium where I sat, it looked like insects attacking sacks of eggs. They didn't want the balloons. They only wanted to destroy them with the sticks. It was pandemonium. If ever there was any doubt in my mind about whether Yankee Stadium would be victorious, it was gone. My eyes witnessed a complete and utter fiasco. I felt I was dying inside.

Father spoke on. He brought judgment to America. At one point he said this country is being ruled by Satan. The crowd visibly and audibly recoiled. Satan hates his own name most of all.

When it was finally over, I never had felt so dejected or defeated in my life. Yankee Stadium was a total failure. There was no other way to say it. We all looked at each other afterward and knew we had failed. I dreaded and feared would happen next. All of us felt crushed. America was doomed.

We all gathered outside the stadium. It began to rain. I felt God was crying.

Mr. Kamiyama appeared along with other leaders. They all seemed bewildered, not sure what to do. Mr. Kamiyama looked like he had been crying but was putting on a brave face. He obviously was suffering very much, feeling he had failed, as we all did.

Without any prompting, everyone gathered behind him. Spontaneously we started singing "Generation of Righteousness" and slowly began parading around the stadium. Everyone was crying. It was the lowest point I had ever experienced in the church. I never could imagine failure, none of us could, and now we were living it. To call the moment surreal would be an understatement. There are no words to describe it.

As we sang, moving counterclockwise around the stadium, we began cleaning up the plaza and street. Every poster, flier, chewing gum wrapper and cigarette butt, every tiny bit of debris and trash we picked up -- because it was all we could do. We had failed God, and having no position worthy of heaven, we humbled ourselves to picking up trash. I thought my heart was going to break.

As we circled the stadium, a group of six men approached me holding Divine Principle books. They were eager to show me, with its own words, how Divine Principle was false. But I was already defeated. I had no appetite for Satan's taunting and mocking. I continued on, cleansing the ground of everything that was wrong, as though plucking my own sins from the sight of heaven. What else could I do?

We made it all the way around the stadium and divided up into de-postering teams. We canvased all of the streets around the stadiums and removed all of Father's images that had been plastered across the Bronx for weeks. In a couple hours it was as if it had never happened. We took the subway back to the hotel and were told to go bed. There was no ceremony or celebration or congratulations. All we knew is the next day we would go to Belvedere to see Father. I was so anxious and full of dread, fearful of the judgment that was to come.

But Father was radiant. He was so happy he was practically dancing. He said Yankee Stadium was a stunning victory over Satan. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. 

One More Time, With Feeling

1976.6.3

After returning from Belvedere I felt a strong desire to go home. In fact it was overwhelming. I called home and spoke to mom for some time. She told me she had come to Yankee Stadium and Leslie had come with her. They had tried to find me but couldn't. My heart started pounding. I prayed God would guide me.

Captain Yasuda was sleeping in our room. I woke him up and told him I wanted to go home for a couple days. He said okay. I grabbed my things and was out the door and at the Port Authority in minutes. It was 9:15 pm and the bus would leave at 10. The only money I had was $10 that Captain had given each of us for expense money, meaning food, and a $2 bill I kept in my wallet. It was enough to buy a round-trip ticket to Delaware.

The bus arrived in State Road in Delaware about 12:30 am and I called home. An hour later I was in Dover and mom and dad were there to greet me. They were so happy.

I had determined that I would not visit them for myself but as a mission for God, to try to raise their spirits and help them feel more positive about the church.

I spent most of today with Leslie, but she doesn't really understand what I'm doing. For the most part she indicated that she didn't feel she needs God at this point. I explained that my desire was to restore our relationship from that of friends and lovers to brother and sister. She asked if we would ever be lovers again, but I said only if God wants us to be married. She went home and only asked that I call her before I leave.

I was out in dad's garden working, thinking about Leslie and our relationship, which now seemed completely severed. I had tried to win her heart. I told her what I thought were many wonderful things about God and my life in the church. I tried singing to her. But she couldn't relate to anything. She just thought I was brainwashed. She could see nothing of value in me or what I was doing.

When I had called her this morning she had cried. But now after spending most of the day with me, I could feel she was disappointed. I was reflecting on all of this out in the garden, thinking this would finally free me from thinking about her. So many times on MFT I would end up daydreaming about her and it would make me homesick and cause me to lose focus on my mission. As much as I still loved her, I knew in my heart it would be better for God's providence if I could stop thinking about her. I had to let her go.

Captain Yasuda called Dover. He was very mad, more than I had ever heard him. He said he had no recollection of giving me permission to leave and the workshop in New York was very important and that I should come back right away. I promised I would.

I felt crushed. First of all, I felt bad that I had gone against God's will. I felt so judged and ashamed for being so selfish. But even worse, I knew this would truly crush my parents. It would have been better had I not come at all. They are so jealous of the church. It hurts them so much. I had come hoping our short time together would make them feel better. Instead, I was about to cause them unbearable pain. Again. I just can't seem to get anything right when it comes to my family.

Almost immediately mom began about mind control and that I had a right to take a rest and see my family and all the other members tell her they see their families all the time and why can't I and they can do without me for a while. I felt so helpless to comfort her. I told her the story of Abraham and Isaac and that she would have to be willing and grateful to sacrifice me. She said she doesn't care about God, but I know that is not true. It was her broken heart talking. She was so lonely for me already.

Then dad came in and she told him and he began about every negative thing he had ever come across or ever crossed his mind. There was nothing I could do but listen. Finally he ended. He was not angry, but so confused and disappointed.

I wanted so badly to explain why this was important to me -- and to them -- but where to start? How could I possibly convey to them in just a couple hours my experiences of the past 10 months? I couldn't even do it over several days if I talked nonstop. What could I possibly say to them in that moment to help them understand? Nothing. Nothing I could say could possibly make it better.

The inevitable, unsparing truth is I would have to leave them and they would have to be deeply hurt and there was nothing I could do about it. They would believe that some invisible external evil had pulled me away from them. But that was not true. I was doing it myself, of my own clear conscience and free will. It was what I had chosen to do. There's no one to blame but me. It hurts like hell, but I'm willing to carry the cross of their confusion and pain and misunderstanding.

I think this must be a test for my parents. At least I have their assurance they will never try to have me kidnapped, even though they don't agree with the doctrine of the church or the techniques it employs.

It doesn't seem like it to me right now, but I know someday it will be all right. It has to be. I don't think I could keep going if I didn't have absolute faith that we'll get through this. I love them too much.

Still, there is nothing for me here now. I have no desire to stay. I feel my mission has been accomplished. The bus left Dover at 11 pm. It's too sad to remember the loss in their eyes as I pulled away. They think they'll never see me again, but I know it's not true. It will get better. I haven't left them. I'm closer to them now than ever in my life. They just don't know it yet, but they will someday.

So why did I suddenly come to Dover? Perhaps there were too many old thoughts in my head about Leslie, haunting me and spacing me out. So God gave me this chance to resolve it in person because I couldn't resolve it with letters or phone calls. Leslie looked the same. Very pretty and attractive. But spiritually she did not look so good. It does not seem she has been doing herself much good spiritually. At least she came to Yankee Stadium.

As the bus heads toward New York, I feel I can go forward with new determination and rededication. I may still have to suffer the wrath of God from Captain Yasuda, and maybe even Mr. Hayashi, but they say this is when you can feel Father's heart the most. I look forward to this moment.

Who can ever understand the Unification Church? 

Extreme Faith Makeover

1976.6.9

Father has announced our next goal: a massive rally at the Washington Monument in September. He said it will be the completion stage of his mission: Madison Square Garden was formation, Yankee Stadium was growth, and Washington Monument will be perfection.

Today was my first day in Little Rock, back in my old stomping grounds of Arkansas. I made $188.88, which I guess symbolizes a new beginning.

I left Dover the same night that Captain Yasuda called. At first I felt very free from the past. Seeing my parents, and especially Leslie, dispelled a lot of myths I had formed in my mind over the last few months. In reality, the situation was not so romantic as I had supposed from afar. Leslie rejected me. My parents rejected me. There really was no place for me to go except back to New York. I didn't even call Leslie to say goodbye. There was nothing to say. We had nothing in common anymore.

I also learned how weak my spiritual foundation was. Had I stayed in Dover, eventually I would have begun compromising a little here and a little there and ultimately fall. The very thought is so frightening.

When I got back to New York it was the second day of workshop and the lecture was on the Fall of Man. I felt so judged. By the end of each lecture I couldn't wait to fall to my knees and cry out in repentance. Going home, even for just one day, really woke me up.

Also from the workshop I felt my personal responsibility, or rather lack of it, for Yankee Stadium. I have learned about faith in a completely new way, and now understand the difference between angelic faith and adamic faith. My faith had been so angelic. I was expecting miracles at Yankee Stadium. Signs and wonders for all to see. But miracles require no understanding. A person only witnesses the miracle and then believes. The faith of children.

Adamic faith is so much deeper because there are no outward miracles or signs. It's faith for men, based on knowledge and truth. One can have faith because of logic and common sense. In the Old Testament up to the time of Jesus, mankind had no knowledge of anything. Science and mathematics were primitive concepts. There was no foundation of intelligence for God to communicate the truth. So He had to resort to miracles and signs and wonders. A pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, parting the Red Sea, turning water into wine, walking on water, raising the dead. Who wouldn't follow after witnessing such marvels? But is it true faith, based on understanding of the truth? Children quickly lose interest when the magic stops.

I must have adamic faith for Washington Monument. We are past the age of miracles. God wants us to follow Him because finally we have the intellectual capacity to understand what his plan is, why the messiah must come again, what the messiah's mission actually is, and what our portion of responsibility is. We're not little kids anymore. God wants us to be adults, to be faithful even when the world is against us, because we know the truth. I never understood this concept until now.

Today was the first day I got to put this new determination to work. It was hell. Never have I felt so forsaken. I would try to pray, but I felt no life. I would continually space out. I would try for a long time, but I would never feel like I had broken through or established a firm foundation with God. Eventually I just determined to persevere no matter what. I have never felt so distant from God. Yet I was high seller.

Commander Hayashi said God wants to unite with us as quickly as possible, so I expect my course to become more difficult, because that is the fastest way. I know I have much to offer heaven, but first God has to see if He can trust me after my going home to Delaware. I'm sure that He's not so sure about me now, so I expect Him to send me many trials. I welcome them all. 

Leslie's Encore

1976.6.10

Today was not as fruitful. I only made $147, and I had pledged $200. So I feel I must repent much more. It has really been difficult to pray. The things I used to make my prayers out of don't seem right or so deep as what I want to feel. It is a difficult struggle. I appreciate that I am learning more from my errors than my victories. I know HF is really counting on me to change my heart as quickly as possible.

I fundraised downtown Little Rock. Compared to Denver it was really good, but compared to Denver it is like a small town. Tonight in a Kmart parking lot I met a family named Walker who belonged to the Gospel Assembly Church. They knew all about the Unification Church and Reverend Moon and were fairly positive. Mr. Walker had gone to New York for the parents conference. The UC state leader here in Arkansas, Bruce Brown, has been working with them a lot. They invited us to come to church and give our testimonies. I hope we can take a Sunday afternoon to do that.

I think the effect of Yankee Stadium is beginning to be felt. I have not met the usual negative people. Instead people seem rather curious or are downright positive. I told a man yesterday that if he liked what he saw in me, then he liked the church. So he gave.

I have been reflecting a little bit on my visit home with Leslie. She cried when I first called her, and she cried when she came over to my parents' house and first saw me. I have been asking myself why.

First of all, she was expecting to meet the old Glenn, who used to swear a lot, knew nothing, and had an opinion on everything. I could be hell to get along with. I remember some very painful times. But she said she only wanted to remember the good times. There really weren't so many. It was all romanticized memories that aren't actually true. But for her to be able to cry for those times and want to return to that indicates to me that she has not been very happy these past couple of years. Her spirit reflected the same feeling.

Anyway, I shouldn't space out or waste too much time thinking about her. I feel free from her influence now that I have seen her and been with her. 

Warning: Cult-Think

1976.6.11

Today Shirley and I took the bus to Conway. It was okay, but I could have done better. I only sold about $140 in product, but I had over $50 in change. This must be Arkansas.

I have been thinking about Washington Monument. It is maybe three months away. Three months is really no time at all. I feel completely different than I did about Yankee Stadium. Father warned us so many times about the seriousness of Yankee Stadium, but I know I was not serious. I did not feel responsible for its success or failure. Now I think about Washington Monument and the task before us and it is almost impossible to comprehend. There will be no miracles like I and so many others were expecting at Yankee Stadium. Victory will only come through our blood, sweat and tears.

I pray that it is not too late for America. In just ten years America has lost almost all respect and dignity that it ever had, defiled by her own children, me not least of all. I was explaining to a couple of people today that the present situation in America is a warning from God. If America does not humble herself and repent, she will surely die. The signs are all around us. If I fail this time, if we fail to bring victory to Washington Monument, then this country will perish within a year.

Satan's rule will never again be established on this Earth because of the advent of True Parents and blessed couples, but the rest of the fallen world will be destroyed. I am sure I will die along with the rest, and this journal, if it survives, will only be a testament of a martyred saint who gave his life to God. But it may already be too late.

Of course, I pray that I can change now and really take full responsibility where before I failed. I find I must ask what is responsibility? The ability to respond. Respond to what? To God. Since I am sinful and fallen far from God and don't know God, how can I respond to God? Only through True Parents as God's representatives can we come back to Him. So to take responsibility, I need True Parents, but to get True Parents, I must take responsibility.

It's the Catch-22 of Divine Principle.

HF has given us MFT as the tool to overcome fallen nature. I must learn to master this tool until I can make $500 a day. If I can raise my average $100 a month, this goal will be realized by Washington Monument. 

Karola Returns

1976.7.4

America is 200 years old. Happy birthday. God bless America.

It's been several weeks since I have made an entry. We are now in the fourth day of competition before Washington Monument. I have not been suffering from lack of inspiration. Rather the opposite. My experiences on my new team have been so deep that it would be extremely difficult to relate them on paper.

My love and respect for Captain Turegano is growing day by day. I see this team as being perfection stage. Richard Panzer's team was formation. Captain Yasuda's was growth.

My fallen nature is being exposed by the bucketload. On our team are two sisters, Darlene and Shirley, and six brothers. Jack is assistant captain and an All-American boy type, a very wonderful brother and a good seller. Dominick is from New York. He has a good sense of humor and is also a good seller. Jesse is fairly quiet and is struggling internally, because his results have not been so good, but I like him very much.

Mike Joyce and I came to Boonville about the same time. He likes to talk and give the team a blow by blow, play by play account of his spiritual difficulties. He obsesses about his spiel. He's convinced that if he could just come up with the right combination of magic words, everyone would buy and he would make a huge result. He's a very nice brother, but I have a hard time uniting with Mike. Every day he recounts the same struggles, over and over. No matter what kind of breakthrough he has one day, the next day it's like it never happened and he starts all over. He sounds like a broken record.

What prompted me to make an entry is I found tonight that Karola is in St. Louis and is hearing Divine Principle. She came back to America from Germany and somehow found out I was in the church and in trying to find me she ended up at the St. Louis center. Captain said I should call her tomorrow.

The whole thing is incredibly unbelievable. Captain Turegano was taking me around blitzing in Memphis and he just casually asked me if I knew a girl named Karola. I was so shocked. After he answered as many questions as he could, I told him of the relationship she and I had the summer before.

I still can't believe it. 

Hell on My Hip

1976.7.7

It's been almost exactly one year since I started this journal. I'm down to the final pages in the book, so I'll have to start a new one soon. Fortunately, Mr. Kamiyama gave everyone on MFT beautiful bicentennial journals, which have lots of historic dates and information about the people and events that led to the founding of America. I can't wait to start writing in it.

On Monday Captain took me over to the church center in Little Rock. He told me Karola was there. I was shocked because I thought she was in St. Louis, but Captain said someone had driven her here the night before so she could see me in the hopes it would make her want to join the church. He said she was attending a workshop, but once she found out I was in Little Rock, she was very insistent on coming to see me and they were afraid she would leave. They thought this way they could make sure they could get her back to St. Louis.

It was a thrill to see Karola again. She looked so beautiful. Her spirit was so bright and clear. It was exactly one year ago that Imoe and I had picked her up hitchhiking in Colorado. Now here we were together again, but under totally different circumstances.

We spoke for about an hour and everything seemed fine. Her English had vastly improved, and she seemed to be understanding a lot of the Divine Principle lectures. I began to think that at least this one fallen relationship of mine might actually get restored.

But when it came time for us to go, Karola suddenly started sobbing. I did my best to comfort her, but Captain was standing right there, so I couldn't hug her or touch her or anything. It was really awkward and I felt bad leaving her like that. I wish I could have stayed and taken her back to St. Louis myself, but there's no time for that now. Washington Monument is too important. I have to leave her in God's hands. I just hope she can join the church in Munich when she gets home.

I am currently holed up in a motel room in De Witt, Arkansas, with a giant boil on my left hip. It is huge. I've never seen or experienced anything like it. It hurts like hell. My whole hip is red and swollen and throbbing and tender and warm to touch, but it hasn't formed a head yet. I can feel I have a slight fever from the infection. It's right on the spot where I carry a small red nylon pouch on my belt to hold all the change I collect. The inside of the pouch is shiny black with grime from all the coins, and as I run around in the sweltering Arkansas heat and humidity, sweating like crazy, the coin pouch knocks against my hip on the very spot where the boil now is. It's like all the sin of that money has been transferred to my hip.

The boil showed up yesterday, the day after I saw Karola. I was fundraising in Clarendon with Raisinettes. I made $228 there.

After fundraising the shops during the day, I went into a residential area in the late afternoon to do door-to-door. At one of the first houses I went to, I was talking to some elderly women, but I could tell they weren't going to buy and I was about to leave. But just then a neighborhood boy named Joey rode up on his bike and he urged them to buy. The ladies obviously knew him, so one of them went and got some money and bought a box.

Joey wanted to come with me, so I said okay. He told me his dad was the doctor in town and had bought a box from me earlier in the day when I went into his office. I sold a box at every house Joey and I went to together. And if they initially said no, Joey would tell them his dad bought one, and then they'd change their minds and buy a box.

When we got to Joey's house, his father came to the door and started to say he had already bought from me earlier in the day. But Joey made him buy another, and then another. Then Joey had to go inside to eat. I didn't sell anything after that all the way down the street.

When it got dark I fundraised the drive-in movie, which is almost always a gold mine as long as I don't get kicked out. Everybody likes a box of candy to watch the movie, even if it costs a dollar more than at the concession stand. When I was done I only had four boxes left.

I fundraised to some Christians, but they didn't want any. Instead, they wanted me to go home with them to talk about the Bible. When I declined their invitation, they tried to tempt me with ice cream. It was ridiculous.

About 11 pm I went inside a shoe factory, but no one bought. This surprised me because usually I do pretty good in factories. I like the environment of big noisy machines and people working with their hands. Shift workers always seem to enjoy the momentary diversion of having a fundraiser come through, even if I'm not supposed to be there. No one tried to kick me out, but I didn't sell anything either. That almost never happens.

So I went to look for the head guy. He was sitting in the break room, reading a Christian pamphlet. I sat down next to him. His name was Grimes and he said his mother had been one of the founding members of Jehovah's Witnesses. I listened to him for half an hour. Then I asked him to buy my last four boxes, but he only took one. I asked him for a $20 donation, but he said he couldn't.

When pickup time came at midnight I had three boxes of Raisinettes left, and while I was waiting at Phillips 66 for Captain to come, two ladies drove up. They asked me if I needed a ride, but I told them I was waiting for one. I told them I had three boxes of candy left and I was trying to make a goal. They each bought one.

That's when I started to notice my hip was hurting a little, but I didn't think too much about it.