A California Summary
-by Bill Higgins

On November 9th, the Flag passed into California from Arizona. On November 10th, my wife Neva and I met the Flag on a lonely stretch of California Highway 62 in Yucca Valley. Our intention that day was to run a 3-mile leg through the desert. Our friend, Bernard Dean Mills ("Fruit of the Loom" to his friends), was with us, and we met up later with Jerry and Kate, other friends of ours. We were early, so we drove east to find the Flag. Soon, we saw the Flag coming toward us out of the early morning sun. There were a handful of runners; the Flag was held high. A Highway Patrol car, lights flashing, was ahead; another followed behind the support vehicle. It was awesome; we were predictably moved. Such a rush of patriotism, adrenaline. I simply had to run! We promptly pulled over and I hopped onto the highway, well before of our assigned section. There were not many runners out there in the Mohave Desert, so all help was welcomed. It was an indescribable feeling to carry this symbol of our freedom and our way of life. A black-shrouded guidon accompanied the Flag. It bore the names of the victims on the four flights of September 11th. Somberly, we took our turns carrying this tribute, as well.

Our section went through Morongo Valley. There was Neva, Bernard, Jerry, and several others. It was a bright, sunny morning - just perfect for running - and we were all exhilerated at being a part of such a worthy endeavor. We didn’t talk much; maybe we couldn’t. Because they were a little behind schedule - and because it was so exciting - we held a very hard pace. And, we ran much further than our intended leg. But too soon, it seemed, we handed it off to the next group of runners, and the Flag, along with the guidon of the honored dead and several chase vehicles continued its journey down Highway 62. We rested a little, and decided we each wanted to join the procession one more time - this time to get a little video footage. So, we drove ahead of the procession and got out at the next hand-over point. As Neva drove further ahead to set up the video camera, Bernard and I noted a school band at the side of the highway - it seemed very incongruous, considering we were long miles from the nearest civilization. There was nothing at all around that lonely stretch of road! But, when the Flag arrived and we moved onto the highway to receive it, the band started playing the "Star Spangled Banner." It was never so beautiful. Again, I cannot describe my emotions at that point; it was like nothing I’d ever experienced. After our video shoot was completed, we drove home and prepared for Sunday’s run. We all agreed that the Flag Run was simply amazing.

Sunday, November 11th, was Veteran’s Day and the completion date for the Flag Run. We drove into Los Angeles, intending to run only a couple of miles there, then drive to the Finish at Dockweiler Beach, next to LAX. It was to be a very different day from yesterday’s desert run. When the Flag arrived at our hand-over point, the chase van stopped and the Organizers said they wanted to speak to us for a minute before we started. They introduced a gentleman named Tom. As we stood there silently in the morning rain, he told us his wife had been an attendant aboard one of the planes on Sept. 11th. He thanked us for coming. We were so choked up, so overwhelmed to see this man’s courage in the face of such a devastating loss, and he’s thanking us. He asked us to join him in the singing of "God Bless America." There were tears; there were hugs - then we were running with the Flag. We passed into Westwood near UCLA, then onto the grounds of the Veteran’s Hospital. By then, it was raining pretty hard. We were conducted into a small chapel, where permanent residents of the VA Hospital had gathered to pay their respects to their Flag. Their priest spoke to us, referring to the World War I Armistice: "We’re only one hour away from the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, so your timing is pretty good," he said. He gave us an old Irish Blessing, which concluded, "And until we meet again, my God hold you in the palm of His hand." We passed among our Veterans. When I came one-on-one with them, I shook a lot of hands - because I couldn’t speak. Words weren’t very important right then. We left the Chapel and walked back out into the rain. We were wet, and cold, and had run several miles further than we’d intended. I asked Neva if she wanted to leave the procession (as we’d planned), and she said, "No - I want to stay with it to the end." She was to run a marathon distance that day - well over 25 miles. The Flag passed through Santa Monica, Venice, and Culver City, with the police blocking intersections along our route, and the crowd of runners getting larger and larger. At one point, two children and their mother joined us, and carried the Banners. They all wore official badges which read "Family" - which meant they were members of a flight victim’s family. The children’s father, the lady’s husband, had been aboard one of the planes. The procession then went onto Sepulveda Blvd., passed through Westchester, and entered Los Angeles International Airport. Police halted all traffic through the airport as the Flag reached the intended destination of the Sept. 11th flights. A solitary support vehicle followed the runners; all other vehicles were routed beyond the airport. Inside the airport, it was eerie - there were simply no vehicles. It seemed so vacant. Engine noise was replaced by the cheering of airline passengers as we passed by the terminals. We paused at the American and United terminals, but with little fanfare; these people had a business to run. It was very gratifying to us all that our planes were flying - if the terrorists intended to freeze us into inaction, they have failed! As the procession left the airport and was preparing to enter the tunnel which passes beneath the LAX runways, an American Airlines plane made its landing, just ahead and in full view of the procession. It was spontaneous, unplanned - and perfect. The procession made its final turn onto Imperial Highway and headed for the Pacific Ocean. At Main Street in El Segundo, a large group of the victims’ relatives and comrades from United, American, and other airlines joined the procession - now slowed to a walk - for the last mile march down to Dockweiler Beach. Many of the airline employees were in full uniform. State flags of all 50 states were carried for this last mile. Relatives walked hand-in-hand-in-hand. There were quiet, elderly gentlemen and ladies wearing "Family" badges. Photographs of lost loved ones were carried, or pinned on the backs of shirts. There were more "Family" badges, worn by children and young adults. Names of precious loved ones were emblazoned across T-shirts, "in loving memory." As we crossed Vista Del Mar and moved onto the beach, a lone bag-piper met the Flag and piped it the last few yards to a stage on the sand. The relatives of the victims were seated; the rest of us stood around them all. The backdrop consisted of the names and photographs of the flights crews who were lost on Sept. 11th. There were speeches, presentations, and many, many thank-yous. The Organizers stated that it is their intention that this Flag will now be flown at the Capitol, and retired with honor to the Smithsonian Museum.

Bill Rodgers, an American distance runner of legendary proportions, stated that this was the most meaningful run he had ever undertaken. Neva and I feel the same way, and we are so proud to have been a part of it.

God Bless America.

Postscript: The following day, Monday, November 12, 2001, American Airlines Flight 587 fell from the sky en route from New York to the Dominican Republic. The death toll stands at 246 passengers, 9 crew members, and at least 6 people on the ground. As we realize that the friends we made this weekend - the Organizers of this event - lost even more of their co-workers in yet another tragedy, it seems all the more important to us that we all, working together, accomplished this great and historic feat.

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