13-14 October 2001
New Jersey Highlights
1245/13 Oct 01

It sure was lonely leaving the entourage behind as I entered the Holland Tunnel... alone. Gary Rivensen’s last words were, "Mike, you have to go alone with only a police escort, and oh by the way, we’re two hours late and the NJ troopers aren’t happy." Great, just what I needed, a sprint through the Holland Tunnel while everyone else gets to party. We’ll have to rethink some of these details next time we do this.

The jaunt through the Holland Tunnel was quiet and lonely. The excitement of the Big Apple was behind me, and the thought of everyone partying at Moran’s without me didn’t seem to matter. I must have been more exhausted than I realized. The realization of the magnitude of the Flagrun began to hit me. To see the emotion and pride in the runners as they grabbed the Flag was exhilarating.

So off I go, sprinting uphill from beneath the Hudson River, while my NYPD "friend" drove behind me laughing. I emerged from the tunnel and noticed all the toll bells ringing. Maybe they do that all the time, but it felt like a warm welcome just the same. I was directed around the corner and was met by Tony Devito, one of our NJ state coordinators. I handed the NJ team Old Glory exactly two hours late and off they went like jack rabbits. I’d been running off and on since Boston and was whipped at the hand off. I attempted to keep up, but found myself falling behind... and lost. I asked a NJ trooper for a lift but he replied, "I’m not with them, you’ll have to catch up". Yea... right.

Great! Lost and alone in Jersey City... no phone... no wallet... no I.D. I ducked into the first storefront I came upon and asked if they had seen a Flag run by. They looked at me like I had three heads! I should have paid attention during the route brief. The way I was acting, I probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. My fellow team members had been insisting I rest, but my ego and my stubborn Irish heritage wouldn’t allow for it. After running from New York alone, I was looking forward to joining the New Jersey team, and resting. The RV’s had to back track over the George Washington Bridge and I wasn’t sure when or where we were meeting.

I wandered around Jersey neighborhoods, like Henry Fonda in ‘On Golden Pond’, searching for Highway 1 signs. I failed to realize that Highway 1 split into a local route and the skyway route. Of course, I opted for the flatter road which naturally was the wrong choice. I was relieved when I heard an unmarked Trooper car working through the intersection with his siren blaring. I jumped in front of the vehicle and almost landed on the hood. I explained my situation and was allowed to "hitchhike." The gentleman in the passenger’s seat stated that he was late for an appointment and hoped this would only take a few minutes. As it turned out, I was with Mayor Cunningham, the Mayor of Jersey City. As he and his driver attempted to locate Team NJ, I must have apologized ten times. Finally, we found the Flag on the skyway and worked our way up the steep on ramp. I made one final apology and the mayor replied, "If you apologize one more time, I’ll kick you out of the car and make you run up this hill!"

Team New Jersey was spectacular. They received the Flag two hours late and by the time they reached the Pennsylvania border, that were back on track. NJ coordinators, Paul Evanovich, Tony Devito, and Steve O’Neill really put together a great effort. A lot of American’s pilots and flight attendants live in Jersey. I saw a lot of familiar faces. They even had time to get some sponsors of their own and some of their vans were sporting beautiful Flagrun banners. Not bad for about six days notice!

I was really relaxing and not to concerned about running for a while. I was riding in one of the minivan support vehicles enjoying/ discussing the event with Team NJ. My phone rang and Frank LaCorte said, "You have to run with my cousins, Thomas and James Fradella, they’re running the first 20 mile leg." This is not exactly the news I was hoping to hear. I ran off and on with these young, spirited gentlemen. These guys and the rest of the team were determined to make up two hours in around sixty miles. They really, really were impressive. Carrying Old Glory makes the adrenaline flow. Most runners I met ran twice as far, and twice as fast, as initially intended.

I finally was reunited with Todd Wissing, our media guru, north of Princeton. He convinced me to ride to the next checkpoint conveniently located at a Marriott Hotel. I knew Marriott had agreed to sponsor rooms as needed, and this finally sounded like a good idea.

0600/14 Oct 01

Team New Jersey rules! Todd and I crashed in the Marriott after some real food. Neither one of us had slept for more than a few hours since leaving Boston on the 11th. We awoke to the news that Team New Jersey had reached the Pennsylvania border... on time. I never doubted them from the start.

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