No Wonder Cain Killed Abel

1976.4.16

I was just about to write that Mike has left the team, but just now Captain Yasuda came back from making a phone call to Denver and Mike has come back.

Mike left while we were in Boulder. Satan sent two ex-family members to the parking lot he was at and he stopped fundraising and left a note saying he was going to think about it a couple days.

I had been driving the team while Captain stayed in Denver to do the books and order more product. Mike was the last person to be dropped off. I was resentful toward Mike for the accident. I felt his arrogance had allowed Satan to attack our team and he needed to repent.

Since I was in the Abel position as driver, I decided to let him have it. I told him he had to become top seller because of the accident, and the future of the team really depended on his attitude, since he was most directly responsible for the accident. I also said he was in the position to receive the greatest blessing if he could be humble and sincerely repent for smashing up the van and putting Kate in the hospital. I could tell from the look on his face that he didn't like what I was saying, but I knew I was right.

When I went back to get him, he wasn't at the pickup spot. So I drove over to the message post, a light pole in the corner of the parking lot, and saw a small piece of paper under a rock at the base of the pole. Mike's note made it pretty clear that he was gone, so after driving around a bit looking for him we finally went back to Denver without him.

It turned out Mike, after failing to make any result in Boulder, had taken a taxi back to Denver and gone to the center to talk to Captain about what I said. Captain Yasuda scolded me for talking to Mike that way, saying that even though I was right, I shouldn't have talked to him that way because it made him feel too accused to fundraise, and that didn't help Father get victory at Yankee Stadium. I apologized to Captain, saying I should have chosen my words with Mike more carefully, but I was mad at him for causing the accident.

Captain Yasuda then explained to me that he was upset too, that all of us were angry about the accident, but the responsibility was his because he was Abel. He said it was his failure that Mike smashed the van and put our top seller in the hospital. He said he was the one who had to answer to Mr. Kamiyama, not Mike. He said he was the one who had to repent for allowing Satan to attack. He said he failed by falling asleep instead of staying awake to make sure Mike didn't fall asleep, because we all knew Mike was prone to dozing off, especially late at night like that.

I'd never heard anything like that before. I could see the enormous burden in his face. For the first time I understood what it means to be Abel, that being the leader is not about glory and praise. Abel is the one who takes responsibility for Cain's failure, even though it's not really his fault. Only Abel can ask God to forgive Cain. Cain cannot do it himself. It blew my mind.

But Captain also said he was very firm with Mike. I guess judgment from Captain was easier to take than hearing it from me because Mike agreed to come back to the team.

Monday we made preparations to leave the city for a few days, and on Tuesday Kate returned from Pueblo, still sore but able to move around. So early on Wednesday morning we left Denver and drove to Grand Junction. The next day, Thursday, we hit Montrose. This was the same town that Imoe and I had picked up Karola last summer. It was pretty good fundraising. That night Debbie and I fundraised Ouray, which is at the base of the mountains. Last night we drove up into the mountains to Silverton, where we spent the night.

It snowed all night. We tried to get an early start. We had a Ford LTD station wagon that I had rented while our van was in the shop, and we were pulling a U-Haul trailer with our product. Captain was driving and our goal was to get to Durango by noon. But we didn't have any chains on the station wagon and it was really slow going. After a while, pulling a trailer up the mountains in the snow, it got too steep and slippery and we couldn't go forward. The back wheel just kept spinning. We had no choice but to turn around and go back to town and buy some chains.

It was snowing pretty hard and the two-lane highway was now just one set of tire tracks hugging the mountain. Fortunately, there was almost no other traffic. We quickly unhooked the U-Haul, got the car turned around, and then hooked up the U-Haul again. Now we were in the wrong lane going down the mountain, but we had nowhere else to drive. We just hoped nobody was trying to come up the mountain.

A few minutes later we came around a blind curve and there was a Cadillac coming toward us. We both hit the brakes but just kept sliding. We all braced for impact and it sounded awful. But when we got out to look, there was almost no damage because both of us had been going so slow. So we apologized to the other driver and then continued on into town. It took a lot of heaven's time and money to get back on the road again. And by then we didn't need the $50 chains we had just bought because the sun came out and the road to Durango was now clear.

By mid afternoon we were in Durango. The sun was out and it was pleasant, almost springlike. I fundraised a Mexican market that was hopping with Saturday shoppers. We'll stay here one more day and then head back to Denver.

The warmth of the sun made me feel good. It seemed like a really long, hard winter. The air was so dry that I would often get awful nosebleeds without warning if I blew my nose. There would be blood everywhere. I had never experienced that before. It looked terrible.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Most of the winter my fingers and knuckles were badly chapped and cracked. Even though I had gloves, it was a hassle to wear them because I'd always have to take them off to take someone's money or count change. So even though it would be below zero, I usually didn't wear my gloves and my hands just dried out. I'd rub them with lotion but it would only help a little.

The skin under my nails was so dry it split, and handling Satan's money, all those germs on the bills and coins, would make them infected. Pushing my hands in and out of my pockets was excruciatingly painful. Some days I could hardly do it. Like I said, it was a long, hard winter. I'm glad it's almost over. 

Sleepless in Sambo's

1976.4.23

Greeley, Colorado -- the only town that smells like a feed store.

Basil and I came back to Denver this morning after completing the last day of competition, which for us lasted two days and one sleepless night. It began on the 19th, when Basil and I got a bus to Cheyenne, but we didn't do so good as the place had been fundraised so much. So we went to Laramie, but that was even worse. The church has a center there next to UW campus and most of the townspeople knew us and were generally negative. So we left town the same day and came to Greeley.

But we still didn't do so well as Greeley has also been fundraised a lot recently. Still, the next day, the 21st, we got an early start after Captain Yasuda called us and said we must each make $250 or don't come back. By 9 o'clock that night Basil had just over $100 and I had about $150. I called the center and Kate said we had to fulfill, and as long as we didn't go to sleep, even if it took three days, it would still count as one day.

So Basil and I determined that we would do it. We went out blitzing, but we made very little and spent the night in Sambo's drinking coffee. We tried to fundraise the place, but the manager wouldn't let us and there was nothing open, so we just stayed there and took turns bringing our product from the shopping center into town.

We decided to go to Loveland, but then we found out there was no bus to Loveland, so we finally decided to get a rental car. We finally made our goal by 8 o'clock last night and then drove back to Greeley and spent the night at the apartment of a couple of sisters who are pioneering and whom we had met while they were witnessing in a bar the night before. Cathy and Jan gave us dinner and at 10 o'clock we listened to an interview on the radio that Cathy did to refute the allegations of brainwashing and to counter the false information about the church and Father.

We arrived back in Denver to find Mr. Hayashi and his wife had come for a visit for a couple days. They brought us a new van, and tomorrow Mr. Hayashi will give us a report on the world situation. 

The Door

1976.4.27

Today was some sort of milestone.

I sold flowers all day in downtown Denver on Santa Fe. I even fundraised in the restaurant where Imoe and I ate last summer when we were passing through. Ever since arriving in Denver on MFT, I had wondered where that Mexican restaurant was. I was so surprised when I walked in. I recognized it immediately. It turned out to be a place called Joe's Cafe in the 700 block of Santa Fe. I did better in there than anywhere else.

When night came I stayed downtown to do the bars. Before I started, I prayed to meet with God.

One of the first bars I did was a gay bar called The Door, on Broadway near Colfax. It was crowded for a Tuesday, but gay bars usually are. Some of customers told me to get out because there was no soliciting, but as usual I ignored them because they didn't have the authority to kick me out. Then I fundraised to one guy who asked me who it was for, but when I told him Unification Church, he said that it was nothing. Then he said he was going to follow me everywhere I went.

I kept fundraising, totally ignoring him, but as I was about to collect $2 from one guy he stepped in and demanded to see my solicitor's license. When I balked, he shoved me outside. He said things like I was brainwashed, that my parents had paid him a lot of money to deprogram me, that he felt really sorry for me. But mostly he kept asking me questions, trying to get me to talk. I ignored him. I refused to have any give-and-take.

He followed me to the bus station, through the waiting room, once around the building and back through the lobby. This time I went to the guard and told him this man was following me and harassing me, but the guard wouldn't do anything about it.

"You're being foolish," the guy said.

I turned and said, "What do you want me to do?"

"Anything you want."

So I walked out of the bus station, with him right behind me. This time I tried running. At first he didn't chase me, but as soon as I went around a corner he easily caught up with me. I tried fundraising a few more places, and somehow even managed to sell some, but he was always right there. Finally, he offered to buy the whole bucket.

Now he had my attention. He eased up and introduced himself as Bob Davis. He asked me my name and age, anything to get me to talk. But he made no motion for his wallet, and when I realized he wasn't going to buy, I stopped talking. I tried to walk away but he grabbed me and pushed my back up against a wall.

"The cops are coming to arrest you, " he said.

I waited a minute, and sure enough a cop car pulled up with the lights on. But it turned out he was pulling somebody over and not there because of me. So I took off running again up the street, with Bob right behind me. It was pointless so I stopped. We were standing on a corner.

"Look at me," he demanded. I stared at him.

"Look me in the eye."

Our eyes were already locked.

"You're looking at my hair. Look me in the eye."

I didn't flinch or blink or break my gaze. If only looks could kill.

"You're looking at my hair! Look lower! Look lower!" He was practically screaming at me, inches from my face. I could smell the liquor on his breath. Satan was standing right in front of me.

I saw a taxi waiting at the light by the bus station and suddenly knew how to get away. I started walking toward the bus station like I was going to go back inside.

As I walked Bob kept saying, "Put your bucket down. Put down your bucket." Over and over. It was like he thought if he kept saying it I would be forced to do it.

But I kept walking toward the bus station. The light changed green, but the taxi didn't move. I started to go into the bus station, and as soon as Bob following me inside I suddenly bolted back outside toward the cab, waving wildly. Bob was just a split second behind me, making a motion to the cab driver not to pick me up, but the cabbie just said, "Knock it off, buddy." I jumped in and the cab pulled away. I looked back at Bob punching the air with his fist. He was furious.

The cabbie spoke first. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just get me away from that queer."

"I was watching you. Looked like he was giving you a hard time."

"Yeah."

He drove me a couple blocks out of Bob's sight and dropped me at the curb.

"What do I owe you?" I asked.

"Nothing. God bless."

I handed him a flower and he took off.

I ran a couple blocks down to Larimer Square, where I had gotten the $55 donation a couple weeks before. I went into a bar and a guy named Gordon Ross gave me a $20. He said he used to work for Father back in the '60s when Father first visited the United States. He said he was one of the first three people to work with Father in America.

He didn't say why he left, and I didn't ask. But he did say that Sun Myung Moon is Christ, of that he was absolutely certain. 

Nearly Famous

1976.5.14

I didn't realize it had been so long since I had last written in my journal. Yankee Stadium is only two weeks away, June 1. It is so close now that I can't conceive of what it will be like or mean. I was talking to Captain Yasuda about it the other day. He said externally things probably won't seem so different. To the fallen world it will be just another day. But for those who are ready, it will be the day to receive True Parents. I have been praying to be ready, but only that day will tell.

Mike had his palm read one day and the lady told him something very significant would happen on June 1, and on June 6 he would be doing something different. Of our whole team, Mike is the most peculiar. Externally he complains a lot, gets "Cained out" very easily, but often still gets a good result fundraising.

The other day, however, I drove the team and dropped Michael downtown. As usual he started to complain, saying it wasn't good area, that everybody downtown hates the church, and couldn't I take him to a parking lot in a Mexican area or let him do some residential area. But he says stuff like this every day no matter where he's dropped off, so I didn't pay much attention.

When I came back to pick him up, Mike had no result. He said he had spent three hours in a restaurant because he didn't care and had even thought of hara kiri as an alternative to leaving the family. Captain in the van, sitting shotgun, and I could see he was so hurt by what Mike said. But he spoke strongly, and now Mike is at least back to his old complaining self.

Bruce, the brother we forgot at the McDonald's in Winchester, Virginia, when we left New York back in January, has joined our team. He is from LA and was a real rocker before the family. If he hears "Stairway to Heaven" he freaks. Sometimes we talk about Pink Floyd and their new album, "Wish You Were Here," which really came out last year, and he really likes the song "Have a Cigar," which he heard while fundraising in a record store one day. I like talking to him about rock music because we like most of the same bands, but I try not to do it too much because it spaces him out and then he doesn't get a very good result. He struggles with fundraising enough as it is.

I used to think rock music was satanic and I should never listen to it. But Richard Panzer told me that if we use those things for God's purpose, it's okay. He said if he hears some music he likes, he takes its energy for himself to raise his spirit even higher. I thought that was great, and ever since I have not been afraid to get into it if I hear something I like when I'm out fundraising. But I don't play it on the radio in the van. Nobody has to tell me that wouldn't be appropriate. Encountering it out in the fallen world and claiming it for God is one thing. Deliberately bringing it into a heavenly environment would be a bad condition that Satan could invade.

I have determined that I must become a world leader. Ever since I made this determination my result has been over $170 a day. Basil and I were in Del Norte one day and I made a tourist lady with a camera take our picture. She asked why, and I told her we were famous. So she took it. Maybe someday she'll look at that picture and recognize me. Yesterday I was in Ft. Morgan with Lori and I made $240 in a little over eight hours. While we were riding the bus to get there I was looking out the window, scouting area we could fundraise. Lori said that I would make a good team captain because already I was thinking like one. I was surprised to hear her say that, but it made me feel really good, like I was maturing.

Almost everyday I have been getting large donations. Somebody in a bowling alley in Arvada bought $20 worth of "turtles" -- chocolate-covered caramels with peanuts that sort of look like those little turtles you can buy in Woolworth's. Everybody seems to love turtles. Today the people at the 7-11 who stored some flowers for me in Commerce City bought $15 worth of carnations.

I am sort of planning on going home to Delaware for Gary's graduation on June 5. I want to try to see Leslie and Greg, but I am leaving the final decision up to God. If He doesn't want me to go, I won't. More than ever my life is for God first and for myself not at all. So I don't even want to go home unless it can be for a higher purpose. I feel that God has a great mission for me, so I must use this time well to prepare. 

Born to Drive

1976.5.22

Ten days until Yankee Stadium. I find it difficult to think about. I'm not at all sure what it will be like or what it will mean to me. All I know is that if it fails, America will decline and ultimately fall. But I know Yankee Stadium will not fail because Father has willed it.

More and more I feel I must unite with True Parents, though it is so difficult. But there is no choice. Where we go in spirit world after death depend on how united we are with True Parents. It's impossible to imagine how far away we are from God and His ideal. Something like being at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. I suppose there is some spiritual significance to my going to the Grand Canyon just before meeting the family.

We are on our way to Omaha to fundraise, working our way east to New York for Yankee Stadium. We are traveling by bus, the whole team, including Captain Yasuda, because last night he had an accident with the van. The radiator was repaired today, but there is an electrical problem, which will have wait until Monday. So until then, we are stuck in Nebraska.

A certain pattern has emerged regarding our accidents, though I certainly don't pretend to understand all of the spiritual significance and implications. Externally, our accidents have always occurred on Friday nights or Saturday mornings. Someone else always asked to drive. And we were always returning from somewhere else. Even in the mountains outside Silverton, we had the accident with the Cadillac after turning around and heading back into town.

Now only Captain and I drive, and after this latest accident he may choose to have me drive all the time. I'm the only one who doesn't get sleepy, even if I've been driving all day and night. I also have a good sense of direction and never get lost. And I'm able to maneuver the big Maxivan in tight spots without hitting anything, even if we're pulling a trailer. I guess my truck driving experience is useful to heaven after all.

I think I inherited my driving skills from dad. He's the best driver I know. I used to love watching him drive on family trips, hour after hour. He always knew exactly what to do in every situation. He was a genius behind the wheel. 

Satan's Pizza

1976.5.25

One week until Yankee Stadium.

We are in Omaha and have been since Saturday. There is another MFT here from California, also on their way east. On Sunday there was a group of brothers and sisters here on their way to a gathering of negative parents. They were all former kidnap victims and were going as a group to give testimony about how evil kidnapping is, how psychologically damaging it can be, and that it's wrong to try to force someone to give up or betray their religious convictions, no matter what they believe.

One of the sisters was Wendy Helander. She was famous. Her picture and story were printed in church publications and everyone talked about her with awe. She had a very strong, clear and determined spirit. She said some people who get kidnapped and come back are even stronger than they were before.

I started a seven-day fast for Yankee Stadium today. Both Susan and I are doing it.

Today I fundraised downtown Omaha. I went into a place called Satan's Pizza. I couldn't believe it. It was all painted black on the outside. And the guy inside even looked like Satan, right down to the goatee. He was pretty negative, but he wasn't nasty or rude or anything to me. He seemed to take some perverse delight in seeing that I was actually a little afraid of him, like he might actually be Satan. He didn't have any customers, so I quickly left.

Nebraska is really negative fundraising territory. We found out from headquarters in New York that it's one of the worst areas in the country for MFT. Every town in the state is a police problem. A year ago it was prime territory, but it's been fundraised so much that everyone has turned negative. It's like the entire state has been burned up in a spiritual prairie fire. I had to stay out until 3 am just to make my $100 goal. I'll be glad when we can leave. 

Hotel New Yorker

1976.5.28
New York City

We finally arrived from Omaha about 11:30 pm after leaving about 25 hours ago. I drove the whole way.

We are in the Hotel New Yorker, which was recently bought by the family and is now called the World Mission Center. All brothers and sisters from across America and the world are coming to New York. One brother who recently arrived from Japan was badly beaten and is either dying or has already died. Satan is everywhere.

I'm now into my fourth day of fasting. The second day was really rough, and I was sorely tempted to break it but didn't. I crave chocolate milk.

I'm not sure what we are doing right now. I think we are going to Harlem to hold a rally and witness. 

Bronx or Bust

1976.5.30

Yesterday we went to Harlem and had a parade and rally. The people there were pretty positive. They are looking to Reverend Moon to be another Martin Luther King. At least they are curious. Yesterday was also the fifth day of my fast. It was a bit rough but today I feel pretty good.

After the parade we went back to the hotel to rest. I tried to call home but there was no answer. Then I ran into my spiritual son, Alvaro, from Oakland. His father is coming from Guatemala for the parents conference at the hotel.

I did finally get through to my parents. Mom said she was coming to Yankee Stadium. I was shocked and surprised, but when I said I didn't think I could come home for Gary's graduation, dad hung up. I don't know why.

Today we went to Belvedere to see Father for the first time since January, when True Parents left for Korea. He spoke a lot about Yankee Stadium, of course, but most especially about these final three days being the most critical. Three-day periods have always been significant in God's providence, and Father said these three days can pay all the indemnity for victory at Yankee Stadium. He spoke for a relatively short time.

Then Colonel Pak gave us instructions and a rundown on the format of the festival from beginning to end and what our responsibility was for each part. They don't call Col. Pak "Mr. Bubbling Enthusiasm" for nothing. He is always so excited, and it's infectious. Just listening to him made everyone giddy with anticipation.