July 1980

Yesterday was my first Dominon Day, and it was quite a show. This morning Terry and we met the prime minister. It reminded me that the presidential election still looms at home.

Last night was very emotional at the Canadian football game between Saskatchewan and Ottawa. The crowd went wild as the announcer tried to introduce Terry. Bill Vigars was almost in tears, and so was I. I drank deeply of the moment as it occurred. Terry kicked the opening with his natural leg. I was worried he'd fall trying to balance on his prothesis. I can only imagine how much more draining Toronto will be in nine days!

I spent the first Independence Day out of the country rather blandly. Since we came into Ontario nealy a week ago, I've had only two occasions for interpreting. Leslie Scrivener joined us at the border to report for the Toronto Star. She confided in me that the Star is going to fly in the Foxes for a reunion when Terry gets to Toronto. It only convinces me that leaving the Marathon of Hope the end of next week is the best course to follow. I must leave at the climax and follow Terry the rest of the way from State College. I know the media will ignore him, but Pattee Library will have copies of the Toronto Globe and Mail and La Presse, and maybe even the Vancouver Sun.

I had a rare opportunity to talk with Terry alone. He and I began discussing the whole picture of the Marathon of Hope. I could see in his cerulean eyes his very soul. The Marathon of Hope would go on, regardless whether he finished.

I felt a spiritual connection with Terry, so I asked him about the rumors that his health might be failing. I'd found out about his bleeding stump, but my concern rose when I'd heard about his hypermyotropic left ventricle. I'd also seen the determination, the perseverance, and the tenacity in those same eyes.

Finally, I asked about the report he'd been under the shower nearly an hour at the Four Seasons Hotel two weeks ago. What was he thinking? He gave me a gelasined smile and said it was between him and God. With that burst of spiritual energy, I left him alone in thought.

Last night in Scarborough, Terry spoke as eloquently as I've heard anyone. As he hinted a few days ago, he realizes that the Marathon of Hope operates independently of him. He wants it to go on, regardless of whether he finish. He met a girl who survived kidney cancer, and I could see how he wished every child with cancer could do the same.

Toronto apppears ready for the grand entrance to Nathan Phillips Square. I am standing outside the hotel, and I just saw Darryl Sittler go in! I'm tempted to follow to see Terry's reaction. The temperature approaches 30º today, just about right for a summer day in Toronto. Crowds are already lined up to the square on University Drive.

It's midafternoon, and I can still feel the thrill. When Terry ran down University Drive, I was running some thirty meters behind him. Darryl Sittler, Doug, and Darrell were in front of me, and I had to watch the van, but I could feel the energy. The roar of the crowd mixed with the feel of the heat on my skin. As my legs pumped along, I felt the adrenalin flow throughout my body. It felt like a dream.

When Terry reached Nathan Phillips Square, I stood behind a blond newsman as he shook a microphone. Crowd estimates far exceeded the predicted three thousand. Terry spoke in front of his family. They came yesterday, and I slept in the van again to give them time together. I'll probably spend my last night in the van tonight.

I waited until Terry took his morning break before saying goodbye to the Marathon of Hope. A month was definitely enough! Terry was going to loop through southern Ontario and return to Toronto, but I had to get off. As I was leaving, I gave Terry a United States dollar. "We get cancer there as well," I said. Terry was beaming as I left.

I spent more time in Canada than I'd planned, so I decided to go to Buffalo instead of Detroit. I simply had no time to go around Lake Erie. I'd originally intended to be in State College for the Arts Festival, which will end tomorrow. I headed for Hamilton.

After a month of excitement and the climax on Friday, bus rides seem dull. The Marathon of Hope exhausted me in exchange of preserving my cash. I'll just sleep as much as I can on the bus. I am anxious to get into State College by Wednesday, the birthday of our illustrious governor (Dick Thornburgh).

I must wait until tonight to travel to Erie and then to Pittsburgh. I am sleeping on buses nearly every night. Already I'm weary of stations, especially after the constant moving through Québec and Ontario.

I had to travel to Pittsburgh to catch a bus to State College, so I guess I'll sleep on the way. I arrived at the station too late to catch the last bus today. With a little luck, I'll be home early in the afternoon.

I came into State College early in the afternoon, and I walked home from the station on Atherton Street. When I went to the office for my mail, I was disappointed. I will have to check with the History Department tomorrow.

I resumed my duties at WDFM, and there were a few albums no one had marked this month. I had to check if they were duplicates. Then I went to see "The Empire Strikes Back" again. I asked about the Arts Festival I missed, but I guess I won't get any enjoyment until next year. How I wish I could watch such movies in foreign languages! (a foreshadowing of the future)