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March Across Dixie Re-Union March / An Open Report (November 2, 2007)

Friday morning November 2, 2007, because I did not want to march into
Montgomery, Alabama on a Saturday, Idecided to plant myself over the
overpass just out outside Opelika, Alabama for two hours and proceed onto
the States Capitol. As I was about to conclude my time at the overpass, a
young Black man would park his car, and adk for a pecture and an explanation
for my presence over the freeway, flying my flag. before I could answer his
questions, one of Opelika’s finest drove up, lights flashing. He asked us
what was going on ? Before either of could answer, he told us that the
station had fielded many calls about my presence, and the latest one
indicated that an elderly Black man was being confronted by another Black
man. He checked my drivers license , and as he waited for the results , and
even after he received them, he stayed aand listened very attentalively as I
gave the two of them a meaningful lesson about our homeland and the
honorable and loyal Blacks who beside his White family fought and died
bravely under the banner that I carried.

No sooner than I entered the Capitol grounds in Montgomery, than I would
began immediately answering questions and taking pictures from the many
vistors there. However, none shall be more memorable than the pictures that
I would take with the young students from Saint Barnupus.

I would later be greeted by a dear friend and compatriot, author of the book
titled The Life, Legacy, and Law of Thomas Goode Jones; John Eidsmoe. John
would sign a copy of his book and present it to me.John would later escort
me to the Southern Poverty Law Center, where I would delight from the
immediate attention I woud get from the uniformed guards. I would strut with
my flag there for several minutes, and shortly station myself at the
intersection corner. Not there long when two men approached in my direction,
as they passed near, one called out my name in greeting. I returned the
greeting, he did an about face , reached out for my hand to shake, and
promtly identified himself as Mark Potok of SPLC. I told him that I was glad
to put a face on the man who had been wearing me and my name out. Shortly
thereafter, a young Black man would also exist Dees and Potok’s palaca. He
came right up to me again calling out my name, asked if he could interview
me, and if I would have lunch with him ? I agreeded and strutted with my
flag into the rooftop cafeteria to the looks of astonishment from the
patrons and surely Potok who were gathered for lunch. Britten, the young man
who sat before me from Pennsylvania had never heard much of what I had to
say, and I hope that when he puts his report in the sure to come edition of
the Intelligence Report that he prints it like it was said. I would sign a
copy of Mike Scruggs Un-Civil War for Britten and another for the Center
because it was the least I could do for the polite young who sat before me
and paid for lunch.