Diary entry from Doug Cole, douglas_w_cole@hotmail.com

Just wanted to let you know that I ran with the South Carolina team and WOW! WHAT AN EXPERIENCE. I quickly wrote a summary end emailed it to my family and friends. If interested, read on:

I read about the Americans United Flag Run in the Charleston Post and Courier on Thursday, October 11. I had previously heard about the Flag Run and was so excited that I was willing to go to another state to run. When the article mentioned it was going to be in South Carolina I was ecstatic.

After reading the article I immediately went to the web site and signed up. Perhaps overly excited, I volunteered to run "anywhere in the state that I was needed at any time of the day. The flag entered our state from N.C. near Cheraw and left near Augusta and was run 24 hours a day. Columbia, two hours away was as close to Charleston as it would get.

The Flag Run coordinators listed me as a 'primary runner', which meant that me and another person were responsible for carrying the flag for 5 miles. My designated time was 7:00 am on Friday (October 19) and my portion of the run was about 10 miles south of Batesburg.

After an emotional night of sleep with lots of tossing and turning (which is NOT like me at all), my day began at 2:00am. I quickly and easily got out of bed and had a quick shower. My clothes were already lined up and ready to go. I had black running shorts (requested by the coordinators) and a New York T-Shirt. I had to be in Batesburg at 5:00 am so I left Folly Beach at 2:15am. The drive was lonely but the excitement was building. I arrived at Batesburg at 4:55 am and in route, actually passed the runners. Upon my approach to them I had a lump in my throat knowing what was about to happen to me.

In front of the runners was a police escort. Behind the runners were an RV, two shuttles and another police car. Since my portion of the run wasn't for another two hours, I hopped in the RV with several other runners. We quickly became friends while discussing why we were there. Watching the runners in front of us with the flag was inspiring. Even though my designated portion of the run was two hours away, we always had the option of running as much as we wanted with the group. I decided to wait as emotions built.

At 6:55 am I jumped out of the RV and started my leg of the run with five other people already running. They immediately handed me the flag as a welcome to the group. I took a deep breath and reached for it. In the transition, there were two of us carrying the flag but it soon became my sole responsibility to carry out the mission. There are no words adequate enough to describe the first time you touch it. With respect to the flag and victims on September 11, we ran in silence for a while. When conversation resumed, one of the runners was finishing his portion of the run spoke in memory of the victims of September 11, as well in honor of those in the military currently engaged in battles for all Americans. Another gentleman added that it was also in honor of all in the military who had previous battles in defending our country and freedom.

Soon the group was down to two: my designated running partner and me. It was still dark. Traffic was light but most who passed us blew the horn or cheered in support. When we weren't passing cotton fields, the houses were still dark with the occupants safely sleeping inside. An occasion dog would bark. I realized how important my portion of the run was. Maybe not as exciting as running through highly populated areas with crowds of cheers, my hour of running in very rural areas was filled with reflections and honor. I realized the hundreds, perhaps thousands of people who had carried or would carry this flag from Boston to Los Angeles and I share a lifetime experience.

As darkness gave way to light we began to have more supporters. At one point ahead we saw a pick-up truck stop. A gentleman got out of his truck and saluted the flag as we ran by. Not a word was said. The woman beside me had a tear in her eye.

As we approached Aiken several local track teams joined the running. Full of energy and excitement, we had to slow them down (we needed to run one mile every ten minutes for everything to keep on schedule). Each one carried the flag, if only for a few moments.

We were about five hours from the Georgia state line and even though I wanted to run the remaining 35 miles, I retreated to the RV for some rest and food. Shuttling back to my car in Batesburg was no longer an option (the shuttle was there but my spirit was with the run and runners). I actually drove the RV for a while so others could run. Though it was very difficult to be a spectator, I was able to share their experiences just by watching.

The view from the van allowed me to see the flag, the runners and the spectators, who were growing in numbers as the day progressed. Flags were waving and cameras were ready. My view from the front seat of the RV made me realize that the spectators were participants in the Flag Run as well. They were making life long memories as we were. I jumped out of the van again (I actually ended up running about 20 miles, 15 miles than expected) and joined the runners. This time it was different. I wanted the spectators to become runners. As a driver, I saw the same lady four times taking pictures of the runners. As a runner, I decided to make her a part of the team. When we approached her again, I told her to run with the flag. Hesitant at first, she took the flag and carried it about 100 feet. This time I took HER picture. She too, had a tear in her eye. Having spectators run became our theme for the remaining trip. A Canadian, who recently became a US citizen, ran. A truck driver pulled over to watch us and ended up running.

A gentleman wanted to take our picture to show his wife became part of the running team.

At one point in the run we approached a kindergarten with about 50 children all waving their flags and waving at us. They were on a hill about 1/10 mile away. We took a detour and ran up to hill so they could hold the flag. When we left, they were all chanting USA, USA, USA.

Our journey continued and not once did we have a complaint about backing up traffic. When the road was only two lanes wide, the traffic backed up for quite a ways. When the drivers finally passed us they still cheered us on.

We were nearing the Georgia border and realizing our tenure of the flag was nearing its end. We were sad that it was ending but excited for the thousands who would participate in the next 3-˝ weeks. The news media was out in full force as Augusta and Georgia was preparing for their responsibility. About one mile from the border the news helicopter kept everyone on the Georgia side abreast of our location. At this point there was eight South Carolina runners (three from Charleston, one from Greenville, two from Columbia and two from Aiken). About ˝ miles from the border, we all ran side by side with our arms locked together…we were one. Rich, the coordinator for South Carolina, carried the flag. At the state line, we handed the flag to the Georgia runners and stepped back so that they could take the lead. We followed them for about one mile through downtown Augusta. We went up a ramp to reach a beautiful amphitheater overlooking the Savannah River. Everyone was cheering the flag and us on. The Army band from Fort Gordon was playing “She’s a Grand Ole Flag.” We proceeded down to the stage as everyone cheered. The Georgia team went to the stage; the South Carolina team broke off to the viewing area. Out of respect to us, the Georgia team insisted we share the stage with them.

The ceremony consisted of the Pledge of Allegiance, the National Anthem, prayers and speeches from local politicians and military officials. Jana, a runner from Charleston and Lisa, the running coordinator from Greenville and I held hands.

The runners took seats in the amphitheatre as the flag was handed to the next runner for the remaining journey across the country. That runner was the sister of a firefighter who was lost at the World Trade Center on September 11.

We took the shuttle back to Batesburg. It was very quiet.

Pictures: (click for larger view)