We woke up and started to prepare for the day in the dark.  It was Jay’s birthday.  Late yesterday afternoon Brian, a Marcher that is making a documentary of the March by interviewing the Marchers, had me add to his documentary.  One of his questions was about the entry to NE because we walked out of CO into NE through a canopy and make a comment about the meaning of the March for us.  I told him that I was marching for our son, Jay, and our grandchildren, Sonam and Kinley.  He asked about Jay’s commitment and involvement in conservation and/or climate change.  I found it hard to answer.  Jay was the only white student in his first grade class on the West side of Chicago. So he learned at an early age to be inter-racial.  He grew up learning and practicing ways to be a conservationist.  He always seemed to be able to construct something from nothing.  He demonstrated against nuclear energy.  He helped us restore the prairie on Reese Homestead in western Iowa.

I’m at a loss to know how to celebrate and commemorate his birthday.  I need to create a new mantra.  At the moment I continue to be reminded, “I’m a Son-less Father”.  Lin and I have been commemorating Jay’s life by hiking on his birthday over the west slope in Washoe Valley behind the Ranch, where he and Trish lived for awhile after they were first married.  This year I’m on the Climate March and it will be dangerous for Lin to make the climb alone because of fire danger and high temperature.  She’ll wait for safer conditions and reschedule the walk with a partner.  I phoned both Heidi and Trish and commemorated his birthday.  When I shared my mantra with Trish she reminded me that it was inaccurate: I have a son, Jay!

Our route from the State Park was to Max, NE.  The Park was on a gravel road and the first 5 miles were washboard gravel so I got on Hwy 34 as soon as I could.  The bike-lanes/shoulders have been excellent.  I got to the Max park in time to eat lunch. Then I journaled and set up the big tent.  At dinner Faith, a 19-year-old Marcher, told her life story. She took 45 minutes.  After dinner the local residents who joined us for dinner opened the church.  It probably holds 30-40 people.  Izzy promoted a music gathering in the church so I got out my bass.  Ed played the piano and we sang some old familiar tunes: Swing Low Sweet Chariot, I’ll Fly Away, etc. and ended with Amazing Grace. It was dusk when we finished and I packed my bass and amp in the Gear truck and went to bed.