"FACING DOWN THE MILITARY - A TEST OF THE EFFICACY OF GHANDIAN POLITICAL TECHNIQUES APPLIED TO MILITARILY IMPOSED DIVISIONS" by John J. Running "THE WALL WALKER"

INTRODUCTION: WEST EAST OVER THE WALL

To show how the Wall can become a political device for uniting Germany to exemplify the means toward a politically integrated world.

This is a proposal for a vehicle to unite East and West Berlin, East and West Germany, Eastern and Western Europe and eventually the World through legislated law.

My basic assumptions are these:

That the alternative to war is politics and the alternative to treaties is legislation.

That the alternative to military threat is the threat of being thrown out of office, fined, or imprisoned.

That the answer to the danger of modern weapons is to replace diplomats with politicians and treaties with legislation and weapons with ballots.

For a hundred years the absence of war between international states has been pursued on the premise that this must be done through mutual accomodation treaties which are now euphemistically referred to as world law.

WEST EAST OVER THE WALL

John Runnings of Seattle will arrive in Berlin on May 24 to go over the Wall West to East for its 25th anniversary.

This is to demonstrate how "Vulnerable Aggression" or "Direct Political Action" might be used to replace military threat and treaties with political campaigns and legislated law for the control of international borders.

Self-financed persons who would like to join him in this adventure should call (206)525-9486.

TO PEE ON THE WALL

John Runnings of Seattle, USA will arrive at Tegel May 25, 1:05PM for the 25th anniversary of the Berlin Wall. He invites all those who detest the Wall to an international "pee-in" at Checkpoint Charley.

Runnings anticipates that others may want to register their loathing of this odious institution by publicly urinating on the Wall May 31, 2:00PM.

Bottled urine will be allowed for women and the 'timid' and those who believe in quantity.

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WAR IS DEFINED AS A CONTEST IN SLAUGHTER AND DESTRUCTION

POLITICS IS NON-VIOLENT ACTION IN CONTEST WITH NON-VIOLENT ACTION

THE ABSENCE OF STRIFE IS THE ABSENCE OF LIFE; AND THE ABSENCE OF WAR IS UNIVERSAL CIVIL LAW

It was directly in front of this observation platform that I first went West East over the Wall. I propped the ladder against the Wall, climbed and threw my leg over, and then thre over the ladder. Three young men burst from the tower with sub-machine guns over their shoulders. One stayed behind, while the others trotted to intercept me. By the time I had gotten to the bottom of the ladder they were there. I had not arranged for press as I did not know as yet where the press was.

THE BEGINNING OF THE TRIP FROM VANCOUVER AIRPORT TO BERLIN TO GO WEST-EAST OVER THE WALL

LETTERS

May 21/86

Hello Dear,

Generally, things have not gone too well today. I was angry with Bill Bryan for being so slow at getting the press releases away.

I did the last 25 letters myself but didn't put enough postage on them. I hope Anna will be able to correct this situation.

Then as I was getting dressed to go, two keys fell out of something to the floor. I didn't know what they were for, but they looked like they might be for the shoulder bag. So I tried one and nothing seemed to happen. And I didn't want to lock the shoulder bag anyway so I threw them in the wastepaper basket. When I got to Vancouver I found to my distress that my shoulder bag was locked and I desperately needed something in it. And when I picked up my suitcase it flew open. I called Herb Gilbert but he was out. I went to the Bay that was closeby to find a packet of razor blades so I could cut the stitches in my shoulder bag but they didn't carry them anymore. In the notions department I found a stitch cutter. I bought a roll of tape to keep my suitcase from flying open but I had nothing to cut the tape with. I took the problem to the girl at the baggage place. She had great gobs of tape and wrapped enough tape that I think customs will despair.

I had packed a few rice cakes and had a 70 cent coffee. Morgan should be around now so I will give him a buzz. I got Kathy and Morgan had just come in the door. They will come as soon as Morgan can do a quick cleanup. It is now 6:15, they want us on board at 7:00 to leave at 7:15. Morgan and Kathy arrived with a snack. We had a nice visit. Kathy thought the International Pee-in was inspired.

We took off over the ocean and came back over Vancouver. The air is very clear, with the sun shining on the clouds. Now the earth is obscured by clouds; great, fluffy, billowy piles of clouds. It's a marshmallow world. I can see through the clouds to the snowy, blue, cold mountaintops. All is gray-blue except a few clouds high enough to catch the sun. They have passed around a menu, one choice, I guess as a souvenir. We are dropping down in England. Nothing is square except the buildings. The landscape is a crazy quilt...partly cloudy.

May 23/86

I arrived and passed customs at Gatewick without incident. After some effort I got accomodation close to Fleet Street. I leaflet there, so they will know what it is all about. There are four guards in each cubicle and the whole place has a very forbidding military atmosphere. A place where getting shot would not seem like a surprising thing to happen. For a "pee-in" , it is ideal as the walls indent quite a way to the cubicle.

I paid the hotel bill with my Mastercard and I counted the Marks to the 200 I received at the airport with the exchange for what was left of 100 pounds, and I had 800 Marks, so I feel quite rich. I spent the late hours in bed worrying about how the hotel manager will respond to my effort. I would have to show him my pamphlet. Would he still want me in his hotel?

The hotel room is nice, on the ground floor overlooking the garden. It has the old world atmosphere you dream about but hardly expect to find and is admirably placed for my project. I have enough money in my pocket to live here for two weeks.

When I awoke this morning I felt like Piglet going to see the heffalump. I decided that I would just give the pamphlet to the manager and let him chew over the matter. He spent a relatively short time with it and handed it back to me, saying pleasantly that it was quite interesting. At such and such a place there was a Museum where I could put up my pamphlets for people to read. He then sat down to draw up some features of the Wall that I might not understand. I went out again this morning to the Wall and found there were some steps to an observation platform where we could see over the Wall to the barbed wire fence to another wall. There was a watchtower but I couldn't see that there was anyone in it. All I saw was grass and crows and rabbits. I took some pictures and tomorrow I will get some film for slides. My effort is made rather easy as the past activity against the Wall has made this effort rather "ho-hum".

On the platform I met a German who was very friendly and he and I tried to communicate.

The trouble with the German language is that the words are spelled badly and pronounced wrong. We had the "German for Traveller" but it didn't help much because we both wanted to talk politics. He read my pamphlet in German and seemed quite pleased with it.

Monday:

I had breakfast (French rolls, coffee, strawberry jam). I went to find a camera store for slide film, post office for stamps and a watch repair shop. I let my watch get wet in the shower and it wasn't waterproof to 600 feet deep like my other one. The clerk found it was disposable and with no way to get into it, I bought another one for 14.50 Marks.

I have a big bunch of leaflets folded but I lack the guts to pass them out. I tried it tentatively yesterday but there were no takers. I write this looking through large casement windows onto an enclosed court with lawn and shrubs. I heard a bird sing today, first time since I lost my hearing aid.

Affectionately, John

May 28/86

Dear Well-beloved,

I think by Sunday night I had folded all the pamphlets that we had packaged for the suitcase.

For several days they haunted me as I didn't know what to do with them. I didn't want anyone in Germany to know the crazy thing I had planned. Then I had the inspiration of putting them behind car wipers. I had to kick myself to get going to do this, but once I got started, it wasn't so hard. Nobody seemed to show particular notice. I know all the ones we wrapped in plastic disturbed.

As I mentioned earlier, some men at the local bar had endeavored to be pleasant to me, paying for my drinks,etc. Today I was apapering cars and passed another bar when a man in the bar shouted to me from across the street. I went over and inside there were a couple of others I recognized. He wanted to show off his find to the barman. There were drinks in small flared glasses which tasted very good and was probably very expensive but I wasn't allowed to pay.

I was on my way to the library where there is a dearth of English books. It occurred to me that they would surely have English books in a city library. This was true but the selection of authors that I knew were very small. I have always found attendants at libraries very accomodating people, and here was no exception. Although they were busy as bird-dogs, they guessed their way until I got the book I wanted.

Thursday, 29th:

It looks like another day like yesterday, weatherwise. I am going to try and get all my literature out before the "pee-in". It looks to me like the Seattle copier did an over-run. Anyway, I am burning my bridges with this letter by sending home my passport and ticket.

Warmly, John

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May 28/86

Dear Dear,

It is overcast this morning and it rained a little last night. I have been making the rounds of the beer bars as Bill advised and I have been warmly welcomed in some as an American, but if they should ask me what I am doing in Berlin. I respond with a pamphlet. It is returned to me in about the same time it would take them to read "Over the Wall". So I know I will not be able to pass them out like I do at home. I see that people do put flyers behind windshield wipers here, so even though I think this is an inefficient way of campaigning plagued me until this morning when it came as an inspiration, so elusive is the obvious.

I found a copier in a stationary store that charged me 45 Pfennig a copy which is perhaps about 22 cents each. There must be places where I could do better than that. There are no legitimate places to poster in this area. I put one on the Wall and it was gone the next day, but one poster that was postered every 50 feet or so has been left up. I don't know how they keep posters off the Wall; it and mine were the only ones I have seen.

Breakfast you have a choice of rye crisp or french roll, coffee or tea, a choice of jams, and a slice of cheese. I stopped by a fruit stand yesterday and there were these huge strawberries about 6 to a cup. They tasted fresh picked. The sun is trying to get through but the wind is cold and I am going to have to put my winter clothes back on.

I went to post a letter to Jon Hahn, and found my winter clothes too much. The sky has cleared and summer is shining down. I looked at all the cars there are to put leaflets on, seemed so easy when I first thought of it, but in doing so I am recommitting myself and the effect is like a poke in the solar plexes. I don't understand why I should be so timid. I know I am going to do this thing. I want to do it, yet telling all and sundry that I am going to do it, so close to the time and place of the action, makes me temporarily lose my cool and my brain ferrets around for a way of escape. Fortunately my ebullient spirit revives to give me the strength to go on. As I have no date set for going over the Wall I can wait until I am strong.

Lovingly, John

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May 30/89

Dear Louise, With respect to my West-East over the Wall, I am much elated since I last wrote. The manager/owner was away and the help did not seem interested in my money so I was two days behind. Then a lady apparently in authority said, "We need your room for a group and you will have to take a double room." I took this as an invite to leave the hotel. I resisted the provocation vigorously. I said if I could have the double room at the same price, it would be alright. She said I could have a single room that wasn't reserved but it had no water and was on the 5th floor. She said it might be 20 Marks which I thought a great improvement to the 50 marks but when she asked the manager by phone, he said 10 Marks. When I saw him later, he explained that with the 10 Marks I would also have breakfast.

Now being on the 50th floor with an elevator, you get a better view with the extra time it takes to get there. This hotel probably was built 150 years ago and the stairway takes about enough room for a small house. The stairway encircles a space of nothingness through which, if you were terribly depressed, you could tumble 50 feet to the entryway to dispatch yourself. Climbing is another matter. The young men and women, who are put on the top floors, are half mountain goat and probably don't see it as any different than walking on level. My legs are 68 years old and going up those stairs, they feel older than that. But "40" Marks a day is "40" Marks a day is "40" Marks a day and there are nice chairs on the landings to sit and rest.

It is raining a "Seattle rain", spittering down. I can't put out leaflets on windshields. I did about 500 yesterday but they will be spoiled by the rain. This is a mecca of cars as there is so much room for parking and there are no meters. Some nice cars have parked in one place until the tires are flat and evidently apartment dwellers can park on the street for any length of time. They take the underground to work and use the car on the weekend. That means that many of the pamphlets that I put on cars will not be seen for a while. I found cars, with my pamphlet, on streets where I had not been. The car owner just left it there to be blown off by the wind. Such is the problem with having a message that "NOBODY" wants to hear. So far I have not felt strong enough to pass them out by hand.

With the reduced rates I could extend my stay for a good while but there is a strong urgency on my part to get the "thing" over with, coupled with a desire to extend the adventure if there was any encouragement on the part of Berliners to receive me. I am afraid this is not going to happen. I was going by the hardware store this morning and was of the mind to go in and order the ladder. I decided to wait and see if anything develops tomorrow. After the "pee-in", I can wait for the right day. I fully expect that I will have to make good my promise all alone tomorrow.

The situation is this: The tourist goes in and out on the right side and the left is reserved for the military. I will violate the military wing wall where signs tell me I should not be. I will also be on the flowerbed so I should be noticed by the East and West police. I will, for my own comfort, have my back to the tourists that stream in and out. I doubt if any action will be taken. The East Germans will be embarrassed to give me notice and I see no reasons why the Americans would mind. When you promise 6,000 people that you will do something, it's got to be done! The "X" marks the spot where I will disparage this Wall before the military representatives of both Eastern and Western military might.

Lovingly, John

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May 31/86

Dear Dearest,

I am sending a copy of my invasion of the D.D.R. to Jon Hahn. Now that I know the worst, I can pass out leaflets. I have found that the more the police become familiar to me, the less likely they are to hurt me. And, of course, the less frightened I am!

Sunday, June 1st:

It is still spitting rain. The pigeons, crows and jackdaws are having a great time flying around, evidently just for the joy of it. I haven't any plans for the day. After the ruckus* at Checkpoint Charlie, I went in the opposite direction of where I lived in case I was tailed. I found the Museum that the hotel manager had drawn to my attention. It is only 10 minutes from the hotel and is a Museum on Berlin. (I was mistakedn here, wrong museum.) There were many pictures of early renderings of the city as well as early photos. At the end of one room there was a huge cylinder around which people sat to view, in three dimension, photographs of the city dating back a couple of hundred years. It was the closest thing I ever saw to a time machine. People stopped just as they were 200 years ago, to the days of horse and horse manure on the streets. Somehow it seemed much more convinving than the movies of early times. There were lovely piecces of furniture and a little piano that you would have appreciated.

Affectionately, John

* see letter to Jon Hahn, June 2, below

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June 2/86

Dear Jon,

Wie geht's ? I had in mind to call you collect tonight but I am not very good on the phone and if I told all, it might come to quite a phone bill. As time was not all that important, I decided to write it all down for you so you can pick out any choice morsels for your column.

I think I told you in a previous letter that the "Pee-in" developed when I told Bill Bryan as a joke that I would publicly "piss" on the Berlin Wall when I got to Germany to go over the Wall. Bill got carried away with the idea. He had been to Berlin and knew the beer drinking crowd. If I was to announce an international "pee-in" and poster the local bars, I would have a mob with me to piss on the Wall. Having spent 7 years getting no response to anything I was promoting, I did not share his optimism but I saw it was as great attention-getter. I would be sending an announcement to 65 German newspapers and a request for rates for advertising space for my "pee-in". This, coming from Seattle, USA, might stimulate the attention of at least 20 people from each newspaper- that is 1200 people.

I wrote to Louise on Friday, May 30th., setting out my expectations for the following day. I said I would be the only one peeing at Checkpoint Charlie the following day. I would not be bothered by the East or West German police. The West Germans would have no reason to stop me and the East Germans would be embarrassed to draw attention to one man peeing on the Wall. Despite my assurance to Louise, I spent Saturday morning trying to get myself into an adventurous and joyous frame of mind. I wanted to drown out the stern emotional commands amanating from my solar plexus but I was unsuccessful. My plan was to relieve myself first thing in the morning, drink plenty of liquid and not go again until I peed on the Wall at 2:00 P.M. When I left the hotel, I needed to go pretty badly. I had been scared all morning and I am no less now. I know by experience that you can get to a place no matter how scared you are by simply putting one foot in front of the other in the appropriate direction.

Rain was spitting down. I borrowed the hotel umbrella. If I didn't have and international body of supporters, I must make myself as conspicuous as possible or I might be missed. My plan was this: I would step up into the flowerbed, walk along the Wall until I was sure that I was noticed by the East German officers that I would pee on the Wall. Then I would go to the military cubicle and hand the officer a copy of my pamphlet. I would then do likewise to the officer at the U.S. Checkpoint and then go back to the hotel.

When I got to Checkpoint Charlie, the place seemed deserted. Where usually there is a permanent trickle of inter-visiting Germans and motor traffic, there was nobody. I stepped into the flowerbeds and walked until I saw the officers looking. With my umbrella up, I turned to the Wall, unzipped my pants, pulled out my peter, but he was all shriveled up and wouldn't perform. The Wall was white and dry at this point and I had to wet it. I could see soldiers and officers spilling out of East Germany like an overturned beehive. Still I couldn't loose a drop! Now the officer is at my shoulder and commanding me to be off. I ask him, "What am I doing? I haven't peed on the Wall!"

Well, the soldiers grab me, I go limp, and they carry me swiftly off the flowerbed and across the road to West Germany. One of the soldiers asked to see my passport and I told him I didn't have it with me. I said it didn't figure I would need a passport to pee on the Berlin Wall. One of the officers is taking pictures. I was turned over to the West Germans and they took me, resisting all the way, to the U.S. Checkpoint. The officer there was a large man about 40. He seemed very affable but too dignified to smile though he seemed pleased about something. He talked to the West German police and then he was called to the phone and I heard every word said. Every other word was "sir". "Yes, sir, his name is Runnings. We were expecting a demonstration, sir. He is about 65, sir. They caught him in the flowerbed, sir. He was urinating on the Wall, sir." He then came back to confront the West German Police while he offered me a cup of coffee (which I needed). While I sipped, the police were demanding that I show a passport and a Berlin address. I refused to show either but offered my pamphlet. I said that the pamphlet told all they needed to know about me. They needed "identification with a picture". I showed them my picture on the pamphlet. The U.S. officer supported them so I showed my driver's permit and this was accepted. I was waiting for the police to leave but they weren't leaving. To see if I was still under restraint, I opened the door and went out. One of the police took it upon himself to see that I didn't get lost. A police van pulled up and he was called over. I waved at the officers in the van and took off. I was not followed.

I was evidently expected by both Checkpoint Charlies. I think the place was cleared for my entry. Because I couldn't "go", I may have been at the Wall for as much as a minute. As soon as it was seen that I was the "international pee-in", the place was full of people to see an old man with an umbrella trying to pee on the Wall. My original plans were to spend the week before the "pee-in", determining the means and development of going over the Wall. I would go over the Wall shortly after the "pee-in" and arrange to be deported.

Anyway, this is the proposition that I am thinking about. My plans for going over the Wall will work anytime and the better I am known the safer I will be when it happens. But you need not mention how safe I am making myself in your column.

Warmly, John

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June 5/86

Dear Dear,

It is raining again, not a heavy rain but just spitting down with interludes of the sun shining through. I have been waiting for plenty of light to complete some slides on the Wall for Bill Bryan. It is an ugly Wall, not only from a political and military point of view but is is aesthetically an eyesore. It is not all graffitti and not all vulgar, but the quality of the renderings are largely revolting. As for the rest, there are no themes but a continuation of inexplicable babble, where contesting opinions spoil eachothers' work in a war in paint. (The last two observations seem a bit inconsistent but I will let it go.)

Jon Hahn will have told you about my losing my Mastercard. When I found I didn't have it and with less than 600 Marks in my purse, I decided to buy my ladder and go over the Wall right away (and get deported!). I ordered my ladder and mailed my passport. Then I recalled that the pattern of Soviet action has been to return the offenders to West Germany. This would put me in an excellent position for going over a 2nd. time and campaigning at Checkpoint Charlie. It occurred to me that you might also be able to get me another Mastercard in a reasonable time.

I have gone to the bank with the problem and have been sent to the central bank where such problems are solved. There I was told nothing could be done at this time, at this end. I may have given up too soon. Anyway, I plan on going over the Wall on Monday morning if it is a nice day.

This is the wettest day yet! There is the development for the new building outside my window and I think the hotel is just about to lose its view. They are laying the foundation and cranes are moving around the dismembered pieces of bigger cranes. There seems to be an enormous amount of building going on here. The general feeling of this area is a lot of undeveloped space. The people here seem a little more approachable than in England and America. In the hotel, strangers greet you on the stairs and occasionally someone will stop me on the street to exchange pleasantries.

I hope you have a nice birthday and that all your offspring call and someone takes you out to dinner.

Affectionately, John

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June 5/86

Liebes Frau,

I talked to you and then I went to the Wall to get some pictures but the sun was in the wrong place. This is not the only problem I have with the sun. It seems to rise in the West and go down in the East. This is probably not so, but I try to adjust my orientation to the proposition that the directions are not reversed in West Berlin. So far I have been unsuccessful.

I came back to the hotel and watched the operation next door. The huge crane is still being assembled. The men are holding up the services of the other crane, that probably cost a million dollars, but they go about their work at a leisurely pace. Not at all like the librarian at the library. She scooted around like she was doing the work of three people (and maybe she was). Since nothing was going to happen suddenly, I decided to go to the bank, where I was told I could get 2.20 Marks for $1.00. This was about what I estimated, but I had hoped I was wrong and it would be more. My room for 10 Marks a day is practically free. I was at the desk when a lady was charged 70 Marks for a room (probably with bath), next to mine. It was a nice double bedroom and mine was 10 x 8, perhaps. We were both five floors up and I get full hotel service, clean linens and breakfast where I encouraged to enjoy myself. I don't know why I am so favored, unless the manager understands why I am here and he approves. His wife asked me if I was here on vacation but she was interrupted and I didn't have to answer.

There is no evidence that my escapade got any further than the people involved. I am sure the manager did not give my pamphlet a thorough reading and so far as I can make out, I can have the room as long as I want. When I first lost my bankcard, my thought was "this is the end". Then I tried to get another at the bank but got no encouragement in this direction so I went to buy a ladder. I had priced the ladder earlier and it cost 157 DM. Entering the store was quite an emotional strain but when I had paid the money, I experienced a calm and have felt rather comfortable ever since.

The pattern that I see with the various invasions of the last 5 or 6 years, or even 8 years, has been for the Soviets to return the invaders to West Germany. I think it is highly probable that I will be returned as well. If it happens, the next question would be the response of the West German court. Will they deport me or let me go? If they let me go I will have an excellent introduction to pass out literature throughout the summer. I am going to go over the Wall on Monday at noon, if it's a nice day. I will be as nice as possible to my captors and to the West German police. I will have no passport, only leaflets to justify my being there. If my ladder is returned with me, I will go over the Wall again. If they keep my ladder, I will insist that I must re-enter East Germany to retrieve my ladder. The outcome is in the hands of fate. I have little control over the way things will work out. To say that I have a choice to go over the Wall or not is nonsense. Not to go over the Wall after all this buildup would be "moral suicide". It is the same trap that makes heroes in the Army get a reputation for being courageous. You have to be courageous until you commit the ultimate indiscretion. I don't see anything particularly dangerous in what I am doing. They will be expecting me and will have decided the response already. It will not be to shoot the old man that didn't quite "pee" on their Wall.

It started out a nice day but is mostly clouded over now and the wind is chilly. I went out to get a writing pad and when I got back, they had the first section of the great arm of the gantry up and they were putting the second one together. I find my room quite adequate. I have a plywood wardrobe and the Wall has been freshly papered. The threadbare spots on the carpet are covered with mats. The mattress sags in the middle like a nest but I find it very comfortable (not as comfortable as a bed with a wife in it). I have a good reading light and it is ever so much more comfortable than the most modern jail. The stairs are somewhat of a strain going up but are fun coming down. To put in time before calling you, I went for a walk. Because it bothers the management if I leave my door unlocked, I lock the door and leave the key at the desk. I ate my breakfast and then it was time to call you but I remembered I had left my phone number in my room. When I got up to my door, it was locked. So I went down the 50 feet to the lobby, got the key and was halfway up again when I remembered that I had the necessary numbers in my head.

Affectionately, John

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June 8/86

Dear Dear,

I have been out for a short walk to try out my lineman pliers. They cut barbed wire like cheese. It is still overcast but the manager's wife said it was to clear by tomorrow. She can speak relatively good English. There is a bird that I can hear, and it took me a long time to find it. I expected to find a robin. Its call is somewhat familiar, and it seems to fill the same niche after the rain. It's a black or dark grey bird, somewhat smaller than a robin.

While I was out I got a good look at the end of the hotel. It was evidently badly abbreviated during the War. I could see my room window up under the roof, the only window in that end of the building. There are vine-covered ruins in the foreground, but the old entryway that leads through a tunnel to an inner court, remained intact. I slept under the tick last night.

I had heard of the comfort of sleeping under a feather tick and we had slept on straw under a covering of thickness of a pillow. An extra blanket is supplied, folded at one's feet. Now if the room was 20 Fahrenheit, this would be a comfortable arrangement, but for normal bedroom temperature it is too much. Also you have this nice thick blanket over your feet! You could sleep in your undies under the blanket but this is a little too cool. In Moscow I slept in my clothes with the blanket and made out very well.

I am getting pretty hungry so I think I will go down and see what the dining room looks like. They had bread this morning, white bread and not at all flavorful. The staff wait on the table on Sunday morning. They know that I eat ryecrisp so they supply and abundance as if to satisfy a desire to show me special attention. This is frustrated by my simple needs. I have been getting food at the supermarket to eat by hand in my room. Now I am quite sure that eating in the bedroom is not a practice that is encouraged. When the manager saw I had groceries, he offered me a plate. Two of the women seem unncessarily pleased to accomodate me. It was the manager's wife that told me I must give up my room and she was cool to me. When she smiled, it was as though she had just bit a lemon but I'm sure she is thawing. She asked me how long I planned to stay and when I handed her my pamphlet, she took it, turned it over, took a quick glance at the "pee-in", smiled wryly and said, "I think my husband has seen this one."

Love, John

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June 11/86

Hello Louise, Brian, Stan, Bill and anyone else who happens to be around,

"I did it!" and I'm very much alive. The The predictions that I would get shot weighed rather heavily on me as I picked up my ladder at the hardware store. I could not be sure that there were any landmines between the Walls. While I was leafleting in Seattle on the "Ave", someone stopped to warn me that they had guns that fired automatically on anything or anyone moving between the Walls. It is easy to shrug off these warnings from 10,000 miles away but as I approached the Wall, these warnings took on a good deal of substance. I had said that there would be only 30 seconds when I would be visible to the tower but there was another space earlier where I could see the tower and a guard had his head out the window.

Anyway, when I got to the Wall there were three people on the observation platform. You could hear them take in their breath when I put the ladder against the Wall. One man grabbed his camera and started clicking away like a sewing machine. The ladder reached up just under the "water main" cap which was shorter than I liked but I climbed quickly. The other side looked great. The part you couldn't see from the platform was a roadway. You could see plainly that there could be no mines to the fence. The trouble was that three soldiers, with machine guns over their shoulders, had popped out of the tower, two of them were coming, all out, towards me. By the time I had the ladder over and was at the bottom, they were there. As soon as I saw them running, I knew that the weapons were just decoration and I felt a great sense of euphoria. Since I had committed myself to do this, I had writhed in my bed, thinking of the time when I would have to perform, and now it was accomplished. If I had been a cat, I would have purred!

The young soldiers were taking it very seriously as they escorted this old man, in high spirits, to the tower. There were men running about and army cars and jeeps driving up and away as we waited in the tower. While waiting, the attendant climbed the ladder up the three stories to phone to find out what to do with me. I was frisked and they found all the things on my person that I had planted for them to find. After about 3/4 of an hour, I went on my first tour of East Berlin. I saw the inside of the Wall which is extremely undecorated, not even O's and X's in chalk. I was taken about ten miles to a hospital where I expected to be examined by a shrink to determine the degree of my mental derangement. I played with the idea of being uncooperative but I had promised myself that this once, I would not punish myself. This time I would just enjoy myself. There are few things more enjoyable than finding someone who wants to talk about me. However, all they did was ask a few standard questions, have me blow up a bag and take a blood sample.

Meanwhile my conductors are warming to me. They are planning the stories they will tell their wives tonight. I am driven to a place of detention. I haven't seen any handcuffs yet. The cell is so comfortable, I asked if it was a barracks but they said no. Two soldiers stood guard while I stretched out on the comfortable bunk and tried to sleep. In an hour's time I was conducted to a room where a plump lady with grey hair interpreted for a sharp young man in his thirties. They had read my pamphlet and were aware of the "pee-in". The questions concerned "why" and "what now"? They were thoroughly enjoying themselves with my responses but there was no indication they found me absurd. He asked me if I had done this kind of activity at home, which was a mistake on my part. He had told me that if I went over the Wall again, I would be arrested. After I had told him about my 33 arrests in my own country, I doubt if he was convinced of the efficacy of his threat.

The material that was taken from me was brought in for me to check to see if it was all there. I asked about the ladder and I was assured it too would be returned. I was driven to another place where the plump lady interpreted for another interview, while waiting for the American Consul who would deport me to West Berlin, I asked if there might be some coffee around and a snack materialized almost immediately. For each of us there was a pot of coffee, bread, butter and the most delicious frankfurter with mustard that I have ever eaten.

My things were returned to me. The two Vice-consuls had arrived and I was in the car before I realized that I didn't see my pliers and sledgehammer. No arrangements had been made for the return of my ladder. The Vice-consul said he would ask for the tools for me. Another drive of about 10 miles brought us to Checkpoint Charlie. One of the Vice-consuls told me that I had achieved two "firsts" this day. I was the first to go West/East over the Wall and I was the first to go East/West through Checkpoint Charlie without a passport.

I was taken to the American Consulate. Here I became the focus of three Consuls who explained, in a fatherly way, the dangers in the course I was pursuing.

The gist of it was this: In 1961, when the Wall was built, nobody could go back and forth between East and West Berlin. But today, through careful, painstaking manipulation on the part of Western diplomacy, there is a fragile relationship, where there is freedom of movement between the two entities. The Communists are just looking for an excuse to go back to their former restriction and so the activity that I engaged in is made to order for such an end. They didn't for a moment doubt my good intent but I should be aware of the heavy responsibilities I was assuming by tampering with their flimsy structure.

"God's truth", Louise, they were serious!

Between the playing of this record, I had an attentive audience for laying out the principles of my political campaigns and after about 1+1/2 hours, they took me back to the hotel.

Our relationship had not suffered by the ordeal. They promised to be at my disposal anytime. I have done the things I said I'd do here.

If my Firstbank card ever comes, it will make it possible to stay on. I went to the pub after the adventure and had chicken and beer. Two men came over to practice their English. One of them, who lived closeby, wanted me to meet his family. The two men and I went up to his apartment where I had the most pleasant evening since being here. He is separated from his wife and he has custody of their four children. I was received as though I had been an expected guest. He vigorously entertained me all evening with English records. "Dan and I with throats burned dry". We sang snatches of songs. He loaned me a book by Pearl Buck.

I have had no letters since I have been here and I am getting worried that there is a letter-eater at the post office, eating my mail from Seattle.

Warmly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

June 13/ 86

Dear Louise,

I got your letter and bankcard. I went to the American Consulate here to borrow the 25 DM a day that they allow one until a money crisis is over. Not that I really need it but it was a way of impinging on the diplomatic institutions. A Mr. Cary Cavanaugh (one of the trio who was imploring me not to destroy their 25 years of effort) was very interested in my Soviet adventure. He heard me out while a parade of secretaries brought things for him to look at.

We also dealt in some depth on the West/East over the Wall. I owe the Consulate 75 Marks.

I tried to call you on your birthday but the desk attendant insisted that it was impossible to call collect from the hotel, and I must call from the post office. I was unable to tell her that I had already done it four times. I tried to get Jon Hahn the night before to give him the phone numbers of the diplomatice figures who could confirm my going over the Wall and remaining alive. He could collect on his bets from those who believed I should be dead. He called back last night when I was sound asleep. I came groggily down and talked with him for a while. This completed the responsibilities I assumed in launching the "West/East over the Wall" episode.

I believe I was anticipated when I went over the Wall and that I could do it again on the same terms. Had my intent been to walk on the Wall, there would have been nothing the soldiers could have done until they devised a way to get me down. I intend to spend a coupld of weeks leafleting and then going for a walk on the Wall. I am feeling much stronger now that I have successfully carried out my mission. I am painting four sides of a small box to hold my pamphlets, so people will know the nature of my pamphlet before they pick one up. I enjoyed your newsy letter; that is what I call tight writing. Most of all, I enjoyed the fact your letter reflected that you were having a good time. I had a couple of nice days for my adventure but I am back in my winter clothes again. It is dry today, but windy and cool. Say "hello" to Morgan, Kathy, Gwyneth, Skyler, and Bryan.

Affectionately, John

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June 14/86

Dear Dear,

I had the usual breakfast. I had met an English journalist the day before who was not able to talk to me then but took my pamphlet and, not thinking of the fact that he was English, I gave him the German pamphlet. When I saw him the next, he complained that it took him twice as long to read German as English. I had excused myself by saying I had given all my English pamphlets away in England. Since I had found an English one, I gave him that.

He asked me if I would like him to make some more copies and I said yes, but this morning I saw that he had turned his pamphlet in at the desk. I wrote him off as another Liberal that

didn't like what I was saying. He stopped by my table at breakfast and gave me to understand that he didn't see much future in my approach. "You Americans think that political change can happen right now, but...." ......You can imagine my feelings at being lumped with 'you Americans'. This man, Pedler, was a former diplomat, a newswriter in Cambodia and Vietnam and he now makes more money writing spy stories than he ever did at other employment.

So, for the first time I was able to lock horns with a Liberal worthy of my 'steel'. I told him I anticipated his lack of enthusiasm and after I had set him straight about 'you Americans', we had a delightful go-around. I asked him if he knew of a place where I could get copying done. He said he was going downtown right now and would drop me off at such a place. We continued the conversation in the car where he trotted out all the Liberal positions and I demolished them one by one. (It was to my considerable satisfaction that I saw this). He countered by modifying his position rather than trying to refute mine. Rather than being offended, his respect for me certainly seemed to be enhanced.

On the way to the copy shop, with his attention on these arguments which he couldn't resist, he was getting lost and had to stop and look at the map. I spent a good while with him and I feel I may have made a permanent contact. I think he is older than you but younger than me. His family is in their late teens or early twenties. What pleased me a good deal is that the copy place is just three underground stops away and the price for offset printing is almost the same as I had been paying at Fifth Element. Now it may be the price is one side only, but even so it is no great strain.

It is bright sunshine today and I shed again my Winter clothes. The wind is still a bit cool.

Love and kisses, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

June 15/86

Good Morning, Louise,

It is a nice summer morning. My casement windows are open and a jet is going over but otherwise it is a very pleasant morning, indeed.

I had a breakfast with John Pedler this morning. He evidently had not taken me very seriously when I told him of my going over the Wall the day before. he said, in some astonishment, "Did you actually go over the Wall?" His journalistic excitement rose as I unfolded my story. "If only I had been there three days earlier. My son would have been glad to take the pictures. Maybe I can do your story anyway. First I have to find some film. No, I believe I have some black and white. I must attend Mass in East Germany this morning and I don't know how long I will be." So, we have a senior journalist interested in me. He has perhaps been picking at the establishment for some 30 years and he will be asking why I have not been noticed.

Over the several years I have been engaged in this mission, I have seen many hopeful developments and I have built on them, only to have them come to nothing. So to avoid the equally heavy disappointment, I tend to write the hopeful developments off as something to be welcomed and watched, certainly not to be built upon!

When I told the Englishman that I had a room in the hotel for 10 Marks a night, he appraised it with the same astonishment as going East/West over the Wall. When I went over the Wall, the manager and his wife had gone on vacation.

I have made a box on a nice pole for my messages. Campaigning from a hotel room has its disadvantages....no garage full of tools, no accumulated cans of paint and no "scrounge" box. I was able to build a very neat little attention-getter for about 50 DM.

LATER: Pedler came back close to sundown and took some pictures of me with my new signbox at Checkpoint Charlie. The East Germans took pictures of my back. We attracted a good deal of attention as while we were setting up, I was well inside the East German border.

Then he treated me to a delicious dinner of squid cooked in a batter. We asserted our mutual admiration for eachother and went our seperate ways to bed.

Lovingly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

June 17/86

Dearest,

A nice summer day. I am working on the modification of my pamphlet to show that I've done the things I said I'd do, since the media evidently took no notice of the event here.

They have the regulare size 11' x 8-1/2" but the next size is much longer and wider so it will have to be cut. Since it will cost the same, I am making the pamphlet larger, giving the subject a more spacious setting. It will make it a much more attractive pamphlet.

To translate my additions into German,I leaned on my new friend, John Wessolowski. He attacked the problem with heartwarming enthusiasm as he pecked away on his German typewriter (between whiles filling my coffee cup). When I was painting the German on my sign box, the word for 'vulnerable' that Frank used didn't look right, even to my ignorant eye. I looked it up in the dictionary and the word they had for 'vulnerable' was 'verwundbar'. The word Frank gave me was 'angreifbare'. I brought the matter up with John Pedler. He said that 'angreifbare Aggression' was a German cliche like 'Card-Carrying-Communist'. This was the most evil-type of aggression. I regretted the 700 leaflets I had distributed and wondered what other 'boners' he had pulled. I was able to make an inkedin correction and draw attention to the mistake for the modified pamphlet.

Today is a holiday of some kind. The English speaking clerk at the stationery store told me. I told him something of what I was doing and he seemed quite receptive. He asked me to get him a pamphlet. I stood outside one of the centrally located 'U-Bahn' stations with 50 pamphlets. At 11:24, this being a holiday, the foot traffic was quite light but I had given them all away by 12:12. I had revised my revision of the master copy which would require John Wessolowski to redo some of his typing.

When I brought my problem to him, he got out his typewriter with alacrity after he turned on the coffee pot. Meanwhile, he was teaching me German. John is an unemployed draftsman. He seems to have a pretty good library and refers to it frequently. He has lent me a number of English books including two by Pearl Buck, "The Mother" and "God's Men". The two girls, Marina and Sylvia, moved quietly about as he typed, "on June 9th., climbed over the Wall, John Runnings, (in German of course). Well, not quite! "Am 9 Juni kletterte John Runnings von West nach Ost ueber die Berliner Mauer"

June 18/86

I have just had breakfast consisting of crispbread, white bread, French roll, red currant, and blackberry jams; cheese spread and coffe, one pot (that sells ordinarily for 4 DM). I will try to get my revised pamphlet ready for the printer today. He said it would take a week. For various reasons, I have not taken any money on my bankcard. Only the central banks are setup to give me money so I will have to go downtown for that. I have 10 DM left.

It will soon be a month since I left home and only one letter. Has Jon Hahn done anything for me? Cary Cavanaugh at the American Consulate said that he had called but was unable to connect with him.

Affectionately, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

June 20/86

Hello Dear,

It is 6:13 A.M. and it promises to be a very warm day. I went on Monday to the Central Bank to get money on my bankcard. The clerk said that I would have to show a passport to get money. I argued that my driver's permit was positive identification and that I was entirely without funds. I told the clerk that he would have to go to his superior and I would wait in the lounge area. I was debating whether I should do a 'sit-in' but decided against it as I would just get myself deported prematurely. When the president of the bank came and reiterated what the clerk had said, I left. My card can pay my rent and buy meals but it will not get me money. I came back to the hotel and asked the manager if I could make out my rent for more than it was and he could pay me the difference. He didn't want to do that so I thought of my dear friend, Cary Cavanaugh, who, although concerned about the destructiveness of my effort, had been obliging and friendly. I went to see him yesterday and he got me another 25 DM.

Your letter of June 13 had come the day before, saying that Cavanaugh could receive the wired funds, and was very helpful at this point. He offered to put in a call to you so you will be awakened at 6:00 A.M. by the U.S. Consulate. If you lose time at work to do this, charge it to the campaign.

I have been so fortunate so far that it is as if God had suddenly noticed what I am doing and smiled. I am beginning to think I am being too cautious. If I had not gone over the Wall but stayed at the top of it, the soldiers wouldn't have been able to take my ladder or have reached me to apprehend me. I feel that if I were to get a hammer, saw and nails, I could put together a ladder from discarded wood that would get me to the top of the Wall.

I think that it is possible that if I were to make two trestles and put a plank across, I could set myself up for breaking the tile section that forms the cap of the Wall. Now I might be able to walk the Wall without getting deported. I think that if I can break the tile I will get a free plane ride home but I want to do some leafleting between each action. Much as I'd like to be building tools for my attack on the Wall, I have to get printing done for my leaflets which are going fast, much too fast! When I presented my master copy to the copy center, I found that it was going to cost 400 DM per thousand. The prices quoted were for one side only and an 8 1/2' x 11" sheet. My leaflet required the next size up. I had the pamphlet reduced and I have another master copy that I will take to them one day.

Back to Cavanaugh. He said I could pick up the money today at 3:00 P.M. I was surprised because they close at 1:00 P.M. He said that's alright, the guard will be instructed to let me in. Who could have predicted that as a result of my going over the Wall and sending my passport home, I would be free from the necessity of showing a passport when entering the U.S. Consulate and be granted after-hour privleges?

I am referring to your letter, and you know, dear, you write a good letter! Yes, it is quite proper for you to bid me to take care of myself. One of the definitions of courage might be: Having the knowledge to act discretely where indescretion is assumed by the uninitiated.

I have acted more discretely than I knew and my timid predictions have been fulfilled 200%.

I have been feeling extremely well.

I have to walk about 1/2 mile to the underground station where there is a train every 5 minutes and I am downtown in about 10 minutes. I will do most of my campaigning there because of the vast number of people who read my sign. I will check in periodically at both checkpoints and perhaps do some tentative witnessing on East German property. That is, I will go over the line and allow them to provoke arrest. I think I will have the wholehearted support of Allied Checkpoint Charlie. I hope by the end of this summer to be able to openly build the scaffold by which I will break the tile.

I checked with the manager and his wife about putting my address and phone number on my pamphlet. They said it was alright but the manager's wife assured me there was nothing I could do about the Wall.

Well, I have rambled on. "I love you". It is strange that to be separated by 10,000 miles has enhanced our relationship. I am more aware of my affection for you while here than sharing a bed with you at home. Your letters come across as love letters.

Affectionately, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

June 21/86

Hello Louise!

It has turned cold again with a very light drizzle. I have finished the usual breakfast. There were two groups of tourists. Mostly the hotel is rather empty. There was a busload of men, dressed in business suits, whose ages ranged from 50-60, and then a mixed group.

I wrote to Jon Hahn outlining my plans for the summer. I have told the management that I may stay until September. I have the 'walking the Wall' to do that I could do anytime and the breaking of a section off the Wall, which requires a good deal more preparation. My inclinations are to do both right away but I also know that politics takes time. I want a large number of Germans on either side of the Wall to be aware of me before I mount the stage again.

Where Fifth Element was charging me $50.00 for the legal sized pamphlet, here it will cost me 200 DM or $80.00 per thousand for one reduced to a smaller size. How quickly they are picked up is disturbing. I consider 'witnessing', a Quaker term, as important as the pamphlet itself and much cheaper. I would feel silly holding my signs after my literature is gone. I got my master copy for the altered pamphlet to the printer yesterday, to be picked up on Monday.

Yesterday I went to the Consulate and Cary Cavanaugh had the money there. He told me you had been able to do the banking at noon hour. They didn't have enough Marks to pay me so I have the money in American dollars still. He said if I needed anymore money the account was setup now to receive money. The Counsulate is about 10 minutes by U-Bahn from Checkpoint Charlie. When I wanted to pay up my hotel bill, the manager wouldn't take my money. He said, "You can pay when you check out". I said that it might not be 'til the end of summer. He shrugged as much to say, "So what."

This is surprising since the Englishman was complaining that they made him pay in advance even though he was unsure of how long he would be here. He had credentials like you wouldn't believe. All the obstacles seem to be cleared for my summer operation and the price of the pamphlets is about what I would pay at City Copy in Seattle. I haven't yet started hasseling the keepers of the gate at Checkpoint Charlie but I think it will start this afternoon.

Lovingly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

June 23/86

Good Morning, Louise!

Another nice day coming up. At 9:00 the banks will open up and I will get Marks for my American money. At the restaurant last night I had no DMs to pay for my meal. I gave the aiter the choice of using my bankcard of changing $20.00 American, making a face he chose the bankcard.

I shall be able to pick up my 1,000 leaflets today. I hope Bill will show you his letter so that I don't have to rewrite my experience Saturday at C.P.C. It was very satisfying teasing the border officials; however, it is not really being nasty. The people show great respect for the forbidden area and I am trying to show how the area can be made common ground, and to insist on my right to go to the booth without official business and greet the guards.

The immediate intent is to get the East German officials so familiar with me that they won't treat me badly when I challenge the Wall. I see that you were at Vancouver when I was at C.P.C.

I told you about the bird here whose song I can hear. He's the 'birdie with the yellow bill', a blackbird with a yellow bill, who runs on the ground and eats worms. As Heike put it, "his woman is brown." His song I think is German for the robin call. It may be just the robin call with a German accent. Anyway I really enjoy him.

The managers are Heike and Hans Weinrich. She is slender, friendly and perhaps 45. he is older and much more reserved. They are both workers. When I first came he was the most friendly and now it's the other way around, that is to say, he is not unfriendly and now it's the other way around, that is to say, he is not unfriendly but he doesn't initiate a greeting. I think West Berliners may be more approachable than either English or Americans. Berliners will frequently speak to you in the street and almost always on the stairs. When you enter the dining room full of strangers, many of them may recognize your entry with a greeting. If you greet them on the way out, it seems to be expected. Part of it may be a change in myself. Certainly, I am much more at ease with strangers than I used to be. I often initiate greetings where once I never would.

I was very interested that you found my mother's birthdate. You must have some figures wrong because my father met mother as a schoolteacher at Porcupine, Ontario, Canada. This date would mean she got pregnant at 14 and must have been a trained schoolteacher at 13. I will be interested in what Phyllis has to say. (1994--What had happened was that the tombstone was dim with age and was misread, 1895 instead of 1885.)

I have been to the copy place and picked up my modified pamphlets. I like it but they couldn't use my bankcard. I will be having you wire me some more money before long. You might try and give me an idea of how fast my money is going. Are we into our savings yet? I have just received a donation from David Gordon. If I could get a few more of these, I wouldn't have to be considering how much money I had in the bank. I am sending it back to be deposited as I could not cash it here. It might be a good idea to open my incoming mail before sending it on.

Affectionately, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

June 25/86

Dear You,

It is another nice morning. I have had the usual breakfast which I always enjoy. I took my newsclips and modified leaflet up to John Wessolowski's flat. He had not much to say about the article, partly I suppose because of hi limitation in English. I expect he has the same difficulties with my perspective as have American Liberals.

While I was drinking his coffee, he brought book after book from his library of American authors. They are all very thick books as Germans, like Frenchmen need a lot of space to say their piece.

The roses are in full bloom in the rose garden. I am going to the consulate today to arrange for you to send me more money. I find that I will have to buy my pamphlets with cash. I have been limiting the people of West Berlin to 100 pamphlets a day. Yesterday, I received a response. It was bright sunshine outside the U-Bahn station. A man of about 50, wearing a dark suit and black hat, carrying an open black umbrella, came up to me. He very deliberately opened his purse, took out two Pfennigs and put them in my hand. I thanked him and put them in my pocket. It was the largest donation I had received so far that day, so why disparage it?

Affectionately, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

June 29/86

Dear Louise,

I went to church twice in 2 hours today. At the consulate a pastor was talking about an English Service that would take place next to the Cathedral, a landmark created by World War 2. So, with the thought that I might meet some English speaking contacts, I went to what was called the American Church in Berlin. It was decorated with squares of stained glass like the other buildings but it was a small place with perhaps 60 chairs. The assembled group was like a Friends meeting on a slow day. We were told that the minister was donating her time and that all the collection would go to convert the heathen in East Berlin. The woman, about your age, gave us a frightened smile and launched into a sermon on the loaves and the fishes. There are probably not very many original ways to deal with this story and she didn't give us one. I thought of the two Pfennigs the man had given me and what a challenge it would be to God to produce with them, an abundance of Christians in East Berlin. My experience with Christians suggested that it might not be a fundamental improvement and my Pfennigs would be wasted. We broke up and an elderly gentleman from England asked if he might take my picture and I gave him a "New Quaker Peace Testimony."

The broken cathedral and the modern church for contrast represent Berlin like the Space Needle represents Seattle. The building in the foreground is a church with a pipe organ of gigantic size. The squares are a beautiful blue stained glass that is quite breathtaking from the inside. It probably holds 1,000 people and it may have once been over half-full. They were assembling when we of course, but with his body he plainly said, "I belong here. Everybody likes me." The sermon which was in German, came across much better to me than the other one.

There was a Jesus suspended in the air behind the minister. I could tell because he had holes in his hands and feet. The holes in his hands looked a little like the holes in Fearless Fosdick after a shootout. This Jesus was made of solid bronze and I guestimated it would weigh two or three tons. The effect that came across to me was that he had taken a great leap into the air and at the apogee, shot out his hands and then said, very deadpan, "Look!, I'm flying......what Angels do.....it's easy."

With my program there was a sealed envelope and it felt like there was money in it. I thought it sounded like a good idea but later I saw people opening their envelopes to pull out strips of crepe paper. They were arranging them with the people around them to duplicate a rainbow. 'A mixer.' I have a tendency to resent mixers because I feel manipulated but I admonished myself, 'Don't be stuffy,' opened my envelope and helped the lady beside me make a rainbow. These were taken up behind the minister and strung on the wall. A little girl came around with rainbow pins for everyone.

On Saturday I went to Checkpoint Charlie several times and I passed out 50 pamphlets. There is a little foot traffic here but the take is perhaps about 50/50. I wanted an excuse to go to the East German booth that i wouldn't get their backs up, so I wnt to inquire how I would get a pass into East Germany. When I was at the booth, the officer there told me I would have to go further to a colleague who could speak English. I went to what I supposed was an administration building. When I told the administrator that I had no passport, he took my credentials and asked me to wait. That he didn't refuse me immediately raised my hopes that they might let me in on my driver's permit. That would be a great thing to talk about. After 20 minutes he came back and said no, it would not be possible to let me in without a passport.

When I returned to the line, a spare man about Rich's age asked how I had made out? He was putting in time while his wife and kids were seeing the Museum on the nastiness of the Wall. I showed him my pamphlets and told him something of what I was doing. Another man joined us and he had been refused admission even though he had a passport. He was deploring his troubles to us and the first gentleman said, "Well, this man here probably has the answer. If you can't go through the gate, you might go over the Wall." In a minute he was all over my pamphlet. When he hit the part about the "International Pee-In", he started to laugh....peal upon peal of spontaneous laughter. He made out he was all for doing it himself right then but he didn't. The wife returned with the boy and girl around 10 years of age. The man gave me his card. I looked at it after I got back to the hotel. The card read: Rev. John H. Boer, B.D., B.A., Ph.D.; Christian Counsel of Nigeria.

Affectionately, John

P.S. Your concern about me walking the Wall is well taken. I do not have to prove that I am young anymore, so I have adapted to my age. My car accelerations are less than when I was younger. When I am on the Wall, I will do those things an old man can do. I will be careful of your husband. I think I will have plenty of time to make my point before the riddle of getting me down is solved.

_____________________________________________________________________________

July 1/86

Dear Dear,

I just received the joint statement of support of more than half the family, on the back of a postcard from Vancouver which makes the trip to Berlin worthwhile. It proves that you can impress even your own family if you work hard enough at it. I was rather surprised that you were confused as to why you were not received kindly by the Canadian border.

I gather you took the more obvious distinctions off the car before you made the trip but unless you took the rack off and repainted it, the Canadian authorities would recognize it as the car whose owner had defied border regulations three times. Under those circumstances, the lady had the backing of the U.S. and Canada for being nasty to you.

I think I have the flu (a nice all-embracing term), and I am not sure I am on the mend.

I passed out 100 leaflets today and coming back at the first stop on the underground, I remembered that I intended to pick up some copy I had at the shop. I decided to take the next train back but left my box and pole on the train. I am not sure how difficult it will be to find. I did not feel well enough to pursue the problem today.

I hope you are not delayed in wiring me some more money. I have 1,000 copies at the printer that I don't want to pick up because this would leave me short on spending money. When I asked you to send $200.00, it was probably too little as nearly all my spending must be done with cash. You might send me still another $200.00

Warmly, John

"Open the window and the mosquitos fly in, close the windows and I'm sweating again." Well, not many, and like the Seattle mosquitos, they are small and malnourished.

This is July 2 in Germany. I feel fairly well this morning. As of now I think I will pass out pamphlets for a month or so, then buy another ladder and hammer. I will then break a piece off one of the watermains and walk the Wall. Hopefully, I can get someone here to mail the piece home for me. I will have my 'brick'.

Lovingly, John

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July 4/86

Dear Frau,

The 4th. of July won't have arrived there yet. I am going to call you to send money. I have come to the last of my pamphlets but I don't have money to pick those up at the printers.

It has been very hot, 34 C, but it is cooler in the morning. I think a change is coming. I talked with Hans and Heike last night. He is going to retire when the new hotel is built. They want to become tourists. They have been all over Canada. When I told them about our house, he said, "Well, now we know where to stay in Seattle for 10 Marks a night." I went to American House by the Zoological Gardens where there is an English library. The librarians insisted I show a passport to check out a book so I said, "Well, I'll just have to get my books somewhere else." As though depriving them of my business would be a great loss, she relented. I discovered Thorton Wilder, "The Woman of Andros" or "The Cabala". He has a delightful sense of humor. I am thoroughly enjoying the book.

Back at the hotel, I had sat down in the rose garden to have another look at my prize when a woman that I had spoken to earlier sat down. She was studying the things to see in Berlin. She was from Holland and spoke fairly decent English. I hadn't arranged myself yet. I needed a shave so I went up to my room. Then I thought how I had such a good opening for a conversation, having been with the Canadian Forces that liberated Holland and I had walked away from it.

I had a bath, cleaned up and went down the 11 flights of stairs. She was joined by her husband and,as I supposed I should, I started a lively conversation. She was 7 years old at the time of the war and could remember nothing but war. She told me her first experience with chocolate. She thought someone had given her an eraser. Anyway, I asked about the situation at home and what brought them to Berlin. She said, "My husband is a journalist."

I told them about my interest in journalists and I was pleased by the intense interest with which my theories and adventures were received. Mr. VanAmeronger asked me which address he would send the copies to when the story was published? Anne VanAmeronger initiated the proposition that the fact that I had received no publicity after climbing the Wall had great significance.

The rose garden is very beautiful now with everything in vigorous growth. The ruins are covered with Virginia creeper vines. The scarlet runner beans are just coming into flower, as well as great big tomato plants. All this is to be turned into a big parking lot when the hotel is built. The old hotel will remain, as it is a monument to the war.

Hans told me I was the most permanent resident my room had held. It had formerly been used about once a year. They had made a mistake in scheduling more people than the hotel would hold. The change in weather I predicted has not come about and it is hot already. I have called you and will hang around the hotel until I can get Mr. Cavanaugh.

Affectionately, John

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July 6/86

Dear Louise,

I surprised the staff by having tea for breakfast. I enjoyed the change. It is raining at last. Things had become very dry. Every evening it was set for a good thunderstorm and every morning it would be hot again. Now I feel cheated as it is a light steady rain. I walked in the rose garden and spent some time under the canvas shelter listening to the rain and the birdy with the yellow bill.

My gorge is up about a couple of things that you will probably "pooh pooh" as a useless waste of spiritual energy. I sent out a good many letters and except for you, I am not getting any replies. Things that are really set me up are to write a 6 page letter and get a postcard in return urging me to keep the letters coming. This is the way Kathy and Bill responded. I don't know which is the worst, to get no response at all or a response that sends one up the wall.

I agree it is useless to flay what little support one has because it isn't better. The whole purpose of the things I am doing is to provide other people an opportunity to help me by doing lesser things like leafleting, postering and finding audiences. I am dismayed when I dwell upon the proposition that by a most fortunate set of circumstances I have been able to do more here than I dreamed possible, yet there isn't a soul at home that I can see initiating anything to exploit the effort. Bill says he is excited about getting my summer experiences on tape but to what end? If I want to have a good cry, I can say, "Nobody is going to do anything but meeeeee!"

I had a couple of interesting things happen yesterday. A man came up while I was leafleting at C.P.C. and said he was with the Times magazine. He took some notes and his photographer took some pictures. Then a local German took my pamphlet and, after reading a bit, he said "When is the pee-in?" When he learned it was over, he expressed dismay that he would have loved to have participated. I told him about the white line, how I felt it was in the wrong place because I saw it violated 70 times an hour without being challenged.

If this had gone on for years, they had lost the right to it by default and that someone else should make this point by drawing a new line. To my astonishment he said, "I'll draw it. I promise. Tomorrow morning at 9:00." I had been considering doing it myself but I thought it might get me prematurely deported. This put a new light on the situation. I might still get deported before I was ready as I would have to support him by moving my leafleting operations into the new area. To get a local person involved who could do something like this might be more important than anything else I could do. I asked him if he could put it off for a week and he agreed. I said I had some white paint and he said he had everything that he would need. He was about my size and maybe a little over 50.

Monday, July 7:

I will get this away. The rain didn't amount to much. It is cooler today and there was another sprinkle of rain. I will go to the Consulate and see if your money is there. Give my warm regards, respect and appreciation to everyone, especially to Bill, Stan, Sean, Bryan, Kebyn, Mathew and Sarah, etc., etc. Of course, my regards to all the family.

Lovingly, John

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July 10/86

Dear Louise,

I got the first $200.00 and the woman told me that receiving money at the Consulate was an emergency service and couldn't continue. I asked Cavanaugh about the other $200.00 and he said they would probably receive it for me. Anyway, while I was out of leaflets, I took a day off from campaigning and went to the zoo. I am not fond of sightseeing by myself but it was a fabulous place. A few of the animals I saw I had never seen before now and would not care to see again. There were little ducklings splashing about on the canal here and there, being chased by big ducks. They were so small that the big ducks could have eaten them with one bite, but all they did was pinch them. The animal cages were very attractive, made mostly of rock. A mountain had been created for the mountain goats. I took several slides to show I had been there.

If I had known how much it was costing me to have money wired, I would have just had you put it in an envelope and send it to me. I will probably tie up my operation here when the money runs out. I am sending Gwyneth's letter to you as her address was smudged. She favored me with a nice letter.

In calling me "sir", I had supposed you were carrying on your Dad's tradition of having a private name for someone who was very special, like "Tinker" and "Spoofer". I thought it was nice departure from the usual, playfully using a disparaging term, like "stinky" for instance. It had the happy combination of saying "I like you and I respect you." I needed the latter as much as the former. Whatever your reason, please continue to call me "sir".

Lovingly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

July 11/86

Dear Dear,

The money you sent on the 3rd. has not come yet. I think I will call you and get you to see where it went. The Consulate said that we would not be able to get anymore money through them as it was an emergency service. They gave me an address to send it to and I am sending it to you. Please wire the money to:

American Express Company

Kuerfuerstendamm 11

1000 Berlin 15, Germany

via American Express, New York. I think I will just have you mail me $100.00 in an ordinary letter of if you think it's a risk, you could mail $50.00 in two letters. Anyway, if the $200.00 doesn't come through, you can mail me $200.00 in two letters.

I think my good fortune here is holding up. I found a reporter from one of the Berlin papers taking pictures of me as I was leafleting yesterday. He wants to do a story and today my leaflet was picked up by a couple of street people. One of them was so enthused after reading it, he helped me hand out some of my leaflets. He was pressing them on people like they were flyers for a topless nightclub and I implored him to take it easy. When he found out how much they were costing me, he took me to a friend of his. We walked up four floors on very badly worn steps. I was warmly received and after we had visited, he told me he could print the first 1,000 for 80 DM and the second would be 37 DM. He found some paper that I could make the pamphlet full size again so I ordered 3,000. I discussed my plans with them and they seemed to be interested in assisting me. The copy shop owner was reading in my pamphlet about my trip to Moscow and he said, "Yes, I remember reading about that." Apparently, a very small newspaper printed the story. The young man who took me to see him is Mirko Brahm. He is in his early 20s and the other fellow would be between 35 and 40.

It is quite cool here. There are great black clouds wandering about the sky and when they get together, they let you have it. The sky clears off and the sun shines for a spell.

Lovingly, John

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July 13/86

Dearest,

Hans and Hieki have left for their summer home again. I told them I would be here when they returned on the 28th. I have decided that I will provoke deportation when my present money runs out. I think I can stretch it until I have distributed the 3,000 leaflets that I will have printed next Thursday. I have been leafleting at Checkpoint Charlie daily. It is quite satisfying, a bit like good "fishing." One day I spoke to a person from Korea who stopped to talk about his divided country and the next day I spoke to someone from Israel. Today a number of people from Canada came and I gave away nearly all my English copies. When you ask a Canadian where he or she is from, it is always Toronto. I went to keep my appointment with the man who was going to paint a new frontier at C.P.C. but he didn't show up so I didn't have to dissuade him.

I have been reading a book called "World Enough and Time" by Robert Penn Warren. It is as interesting as the title. Such complicated lives and complicated people! I lay my own life against theirs and it is so tame by comparison, so uncomplicated. In fact, so downright dull that I have to fill in the time by living their agonies and blisses. No, I am really a bystander who chortles over their troubles as the author makes them writhe on his pages. I guess it's a form of bear baiting.

I do get more rest than I would like but I don't feel like spending money on tours and eating in restaurants. I get enough exercise walking in the course of my project. I spend quite a bit of time in my room. All the food stores are closed on Sunday and I didn't buy anything to eat but I had some crackers and horseradish. I made myself a horseradish sandwich. Have you ever tried one? You can't eat it fast! The weather is cold again and I have to put on my Winter clothes.

Your loving husband, John

P.S. I got a letter from Floyd and Elaine but no "flood" of letters from Meeting.

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July 15/86

Dear Wife,

I received your welcome letter this morning when I went down to breakfast. It is a lovely day and I read it in the rose garden. My first response to your proposition to work for F.O.R. was negative to say the least. I had just received a letter from Herb Gilbert full of Pacifist literature and artwork. The import of which directs all Liberal effort into the labyrinth of peace through justice, peace treaty through peace treaty, peace through non-cooperation with the military, etc., etc. This is after he has been exposed to my perspective for 6 years! Then I received this letter from the dearest object on earth proposing to work for an institution that is the very essence of this misguided philosophy. Worse yet, to give as her reasons, her committment to it! Now I've known you long enough to desist from trying to help you make this decision as I know it will be only resented. Reflecting upon it, I am not sure that it might not be a good thing to have you working for F.O.R. from my own point of view since you "sit in their camp and feed me on the sly." I will love you wherever you are.

I am nearly out of pamphlets. Keirle Druch says he can't have the new ones 'til Friday so I might go sightseeing. I was out walking yesterday and quite by chance, came upon Brandenburg Gate. had I gone over the Wall here, I might have done it with a step ladder. There is a large beautiful park about a half a mile away.

I enjoyed your account of your attack on the yard. You write a good letter. I guess it might be expected the Wisteria would want to go South. I fancy the pond is going to vegetation?

After I have paid for my leaflets, I will have 90 Marks left to do me until I have distributed 3,000 pamphlets. After I had hung up, it occured to me that I could have asked you to send travelers cheques but we will leave things as they are. I will carrry a donation bucket and I might pick up some change. A little girl came up yesterday and gave me a handful of change. I was a little embarrassed and confused. I was not sure she represented the group she was with or did it on her own. I had not the wit nor the language to inquire. Since refusing it seemed more complicated than accepting, I accepted it. They came by later and picked up pamphlets.

I was very pleased I had the letter published in the Bulletin. It was a letter written in the framework of my philosophy that didn't challenge Quaker philosophy. While I feel that Quaker philosophy should be challenged, I guess I can't expect to do so in a Quaker publication.

Thursday, July 17/86

Another beautiful morning. There are tomato plants and strawberries in the rose garden. The strawberries are beginning to bloom and put out runners while the tomato plants have many fruit started. I don't know if I will be home for my birthday or not but I might expect to be. I can give out 200 brochures a day so it might take me three weeks to distribute them. The unknown quantity is how long it will take them to dispose of me after my action.

Perhaps you and Bill could plan a general celebration of my return on my birthday.

Lovingly, John

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July 20/86

Dear Dear,

It is a cool, gray day but it looks like it might clear up. The news reporter I mentioned is not a reporter but a freelance press photographer. I had an interview with him in the rose garden. He will try to find a reporter interested, among several newspapers he works for, so he can sell his pictures. He will take pictures of me breaking the Wall. His name is Oliver Hermann.

Keule Druch thinks he can find me the ladder and hammer. It looks like I will have some support. Mirko, who found me Keule Druch, has gone elsewhere in Germany to protest a nuclear plant but should be back in time for my invasion. I went to the copy shop on Friday to pick up 3,000 copies. In the print shop I found Keule fighting with the offset machine. Whatever he was doing wrong I do not know, but it made the machine very angry and it would rumple the copy and toss it out at us as if having a temper tantrum. I met his wife and little girl, very bright and noisy. She went over to the table where her mother was sitting and starts deftly folding copy (She is 7 or 8), talking away in German all the while.

Somehow it seems astonishing to me that these little kids can learn this very difficult tongue! The more familiar I became with the German language, the more I am convinced that it would be a great boom to German people if they were required to speak the English language. Keule did a lot of extra work on my copy that he didn't charge for (3,000 copies in German and 200 in English, with 100 copies for a mailing list Herb Gilbert sent me) for only 180 DM. I now have 100 DM left.

I thought I'd like to try a donations box so I took a round plastic container that I had bought potato salad in. I reinforced the lid and glued it on, putting holes in to let it slide up the dowel that holds my signs and a slot to receive the money. I took it to my friend, John Wessolowski, to find out the proper word for gift or donation. The word is "spende" but John was greatly concerned as "the police are very strict". Oliver Hermann was of another opinion. "There was no law against soliciting." Anyway, yesterday while I was passing out 200 pamphlets, I collected nearly 12 DM. This would have paid for the pamphlets. Of course this might have been a fluke. Anyway, it is encouraging!

Transportation on street buses or underground is 2.20 DM. On the bus you buy your ticket as you enter the bus and get a transfer. On the underground there is no one responsible for seeing that you have a ticket. Buying a ticket seems arbitrary, apparently very few buy tickets though there is a ticket booth. I have not been buying a ticket.

I had time on my hands the other night, so I decided to take the U-Bahn to the end of one of the lines where the map showed a wooded area close to Gruenewald Forest. It turned out to be an industrial area with a huge nuclear tower. Across the tracks was a park with huge old trees and a meadow. I went for a walk and found a pond on two or three acres. The pond was nice and clean with goldfish and underfoot were zillions of baby toads about 1/2" long. They were not just in the pond but as I walked along through the woods, I would come upon areas where they would be hopping all over. Monday morning waiting for breakfast, I spent a slow Sunday at C.P.C. I collected over 5 Marks and found a 10 Mark note under a rose bush.

Warmly, John

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July 23/86

Hello Dear!

I received two letters today, July 15th. and 19th. In one you mentioned why you don't call me "Dear John" but not why you call me "dear sir". The response to my "spende" box seems to be dwindling. I gave out 300 leaflets today and only received 3.80 DM, compared to carpenter's wages, it's pretty poor but compared to nothing it's not bad.

It was raining and I was leafleting under an awning. I never had such a good day but like Seattle, there is virtually no feedback. Sometimes it feels like shooting rabbits with a scatter gun, shooting at random in every which direct ion in hopes that eventually there will be a rabbit where a bullet is.

Other times it feels like fishing. The faith is that there are people out there that can help me and at any time one of them might materialize. One of these might still be Oliver Hermann. He said he would call Tuesday or Wednesday evening and I am still waiting. He wrote me a letter that he was negotiating with Germany's biggest magazine to do an exclusive on me of two or three double pages. He doesn't want me to talk to other journalists and he would have the exclusive rights to the pictures. I am predicting that the negotiations will not go smoothly. But my luck has been so good since coming to Germany that I am inclined to be optimistic. I have just called oliver and he said he had just mailed the material to the magazine yesterday and would call me on the weekend. The negotiations are of a more dubious nature than I gathered from his letter.

Here you been tracking down the $200.00 that didn't get here yet? The $700.00 in expenses is not too bad since I had been planning on spending $2,000.00. The $200.00 check I threw away, as there was no way I could cash it here.

The Wall is 12 feet inside East Germany but it is not patrolled by East Germans so there is no difficulty painting on the Wall. There are 100 miles of Wall with nothing to protect it but the fear of the towers and the courts. The person that used dynamite on the Wall 10 years ago, received 2 years according to John Wessolowski. For all I know it could have been a suspended sentence. My effort is to show that if you use the proper approach, the Wall could be destroyed without anyone getting shot. I am going to propose that the Wall be broken by West Germans into small pieces and sold as souvenirs to tourists.

There should have been some slides. Did you receive them? I also expected that you would have mentioned a trinket (we're having a real noisy thunderstorm). I thought since I am not home to look after you, that you should have a dog. I sent one in the mail (now we are having a wet thunderstorm). I think I sent it regular mail but you should have received it by now. You mentioned a wedding dress but I haven't heard anything about a wedding yet.

I have been leafleting daily at C.P.C. as well as two U-Bahn exits. I want to lull the East Germans into thinking I am a harmless leafleter before I do my thing and C.P.C. is a great stage. I get my picture taken, either as a focal point or as part of the scenery, every little while. Last night I was leafleting there and a man about 45 came to me and started telling me about the true relationship between the East and the West. He was very eloquent and in great form. Everytime I would try to interrupt him to say "nicht verstehender Deutsch", he would say "just one moment please." The result was predictable, poor fellow!

I have just had my breakfast, the morning of the 24th! For goodness sake, I have been here 2 months! It looks like a nice day for leafleting, partly cloudy and cool.

Lovingly, John

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July 29/86

Hello!

It is 6:00A.M. I usually wake up pretty early and there is nothing to do except lie in bed and go over in my mind the things that I have already worried myself to death about. Breakfast is at 7:00 A.M. Things are already beginning to take shape for my departure from West Berlin. While I have not heard from Oliver Hermann, he said he would not be available after August 8th, so this sets a limitation. As the 8th is on a Friday, I thought this might be good for my action as no business could be done until Monday which would add days to the time I must be detained.

I have already passed out nearly 5,000 brochures in addition to the 1,000 I took with me. I felt I might be able to get another to the 1,000 I took with me. I felt I might be able to get another 2,000 before the 8th. so I called Druch and he said he was organizing a music festival at the Wall on the 7th. If I would move my date to the 7th., he might move the celebration on the Wall to accomodate me. He was very busy but would try to get me the 2,000 brochures. That was last night and I am to call him again this evening.

At C.P.C. I saw a man about 38 and his girlfriend going around with a video camera and he stopped to talk. It turned out he had me me in Cambridge. I asked him if he would take a video of my action? He demurred on the grounds that he wouldn't want to encourage me to do anything so dangerous. He said he would talk to some friends with this in mind. The next day I offered him $50.00 for a tape of my action. He said he had talked to his friends and they decided they would like to do it and it would cost me nothing. As of now it looks like the effort will be recorded on video and I am sure Oliver will want to film it, whether or not he can sell it to Stern.

While I was leafleting at the U-Bahn station another editor stopped to give me his card. He edited a weekly called "Sunday Work" but didn't send any reporter around as yet. He indicated that he was interested.

Hallesches Tor is a U-Bahn station close by here where the train goes overhead and the buses stop. There is a heavy exchange of foot traffic here. I was leafleting under the tracks because it was raining but also because it was the best place to leaflet. The station manager came with a policeman and several others to tell me I couldn't leaflet there.

I was rather flattered by this show of force for a first encounter. I stood firm while the language barrier was overcome. There was an exchange from the street between the manager and the police with people evidently protesting my removal. I was eventually told in ever more authoritarian tones to move. After he had expended himself in this direction, he asked, "Why?" I said he was requiring that I leaflet out in the rain so he showed me a place about a block away where I could leaflet legally under cover. After I had exploited the drama of the situation as much as possible, short of provoking arrest, I picked up my things and moved downtown where I had planned to go shortly anyway.

Downtown there is a huge clothing store called the "Ka De We". In the window there was a dress modeled in various prints. I recognized the style from pictures of early century but had never seen it on anybody. I thought it might be something daring enough for you to wear. In fact, in my mind's eye, you looked great in it! I was adjusting myself to spending the 100 to 150 DM I expected the dress to cost. When I looked at the price, I was astonished to see that it was only 40 DM. I went into the store where all the walls are mirrors and I had to keep orienting myself to keep from getting lost. I found an English speaking clerk who referred me to another. Nobody seemed to be able to determine what dress or what window I was talking about. One of the clerks got permission to go to the street and have me point out the dress I wanted to buy. As you will have guessed, the 40 DM was for the material to make the dress. I wouldn't be able to send you a dress from Germany and to have you make it up would lose most of the charm. So you didn't get a dress! I have already eaten breakfast. It is a nice summer day. Hans and Heike are back.

Lovingly, John

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August 3/86

Dear Louise,

Your letter July 27th. came yesterday and I remember Kjell and I liked his mother. I don't know the boy well enough to say anything about him.

As you know I don't like to make decisions, and that goes for organizing a party, but I had thought of a birthday party in the afternoon and a political party at night. Perhaps it should be made into two different days. I would like a party where I could invite Rich Beyer, Floyd Schmoe, David Gordon, Frank that did my translating, Elsa Sherwin, etc.

The day will be August 7th. and then I will break the Berlin Wall and deliver myself to the East Germans. Twice in my lifetime Germans have been monsters, and now we have these particularly monstrous East Germans who will shoot anyone who puts their head over that Wall. I will puncture this myth by walking on top of the Wall carrying a sledge to do as much damage as I can. A couple, Ross and Marian, will take videos of the event for us. I met another person who was aware of me in Cambridge. He stopped a long while to talk at C.P.C.

I received 2,000 more pamphlets with so few days to get rid of them, but gave out 450 yesterday, working until almost 8:00 P.M. I was downtown in front of the Ka De We where there are swarms of people. The other day a floorwalker for the Ka De We, in fancy uniform came down the street toward me, stopped a good way off and shouted at me to get off to the side of the street and turned and left. Then yesterday a policeman came up in a companionable way and told me I should move some meters down the street where it was less crowded. I explained that I would then be out in the sun and that I preferred the shade on such a warm day. He left and returned with a uniformed gentleman with three pips on his shoulder. After explaining his mission he turned me over to him and asked me to move two meters over to the side of the street, as the center was too crowded. I said I liked this crowded condition and elaborated by showing the smallness of the space I was taking up on the street. This became an interesting diversion for the crowds that were surging by. The officer was embarrassed by the attention we were attracting and he wisely left. I gave out the 10 pamphlets I had and left.

Today at 3:00 P.M. Claus Druck and I will go to the site of our action on the 7th. I don't think the photographer for Stern will be there. He never called back as he said he would, so I think that fell through. A Time magazine photographer said I was to be mentioned in Time magazine, and a person I met at C.P.C. said he had seen a story about me in a Dutch newspaper, so that journalist must have come through.

LATER:

When you involve others in a project it is always a hassle. I arrived at Druck's place at 3:00 P.M. I rang the bell three times and he opened the door in his underpants. It would take him a half hour to shower, etc. I could go and look at the site. It was close to 5 blocks. I said, no that the place I had in mind was across the city. Well the site he had in mind was close. I went and looked at the place where he wanted to do the action while he did his chores. He would meet me at the site later. The place had nothing to offer at all except that the music group that he was in charge of would be playing to any audience that happened to be there. I thought I would return before he left the apartment to say that the site would be unsatisfactory. When I got there I rang the bell and had no response. I went back to the site. I intend to await developments. I do not have to be limited to the 7th. or 8th. but I want to do something before the 13th. because that is the anniversary of the starting of the Wall and I want to get my act in before then.

August 4:

I am calling a meeting of those that show an interest in photographing my action for Thursday, August 7th. The video people, Ross and Marian, are already doing videos on me so I think we can count on them. All my other contacts are very iffy, and I am a bit iffy myself. I don't have a ladder or a hammer, but the tentative date is 4:00 P.M. Friday afternoon.

Lovingly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

August 5/86

Dear Dear,

I was out early this morning working out a way to deliver a ladder to the site of the action without coming in view of any guard towers. It is not easy but I did work it out. I will have to carry my ladder and my sledge about a mile from the hotel.

The thing has become operational. Oliver Hermann turned out to be the final piece in the jigsaw puzzle. I went to the hardware store yesterday morning and bought a 10 lb. sledge. I had hoped to be able to use my bankcard but the store said "no dice". I paid out 33 DM of my small hoard. I wouldn't be able in last extremities to buy a ladder, but Oliver made an appointment with me at 6:00 P.M. and he had all the difficulties with the media that I have had. Stern said that if they did a story on me they would be open to the charge that they had encouraged me to do this thing.

It was fortunate for me because he is free to develop the contacts I have made. I put him in charge of planning the press conference, getting the ladder, translating and typing my statement of purpose to both sides of the Wall. The staff at the Hotel here are getting excited and I am getting butterflies, or maybe its bumblebees, in my midsection. Ross and Marian who are to do the video have a date of the 7th. rather than the 6th. for the press conference because we had to move back a day for press considerations. _hey gave me no address or phone, but said they would check with me periodically at C.P.C. So this gives you the situation. Tomorrow is the press conference at 5:00 P.M. and the action is to be at 4:00 P.M. on the 7th. of August.

Lovingly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

Aug. 6/86

Dear Dear,

Sir comes across the way you intend it. Two hours ago I had my first press conference. There were 8 or 9 people, 2 of whom were video people. I was real pleased with Oliver for getting it together and pretty pleased with myself in my growing ability to field questions.

I have delivered the sledge to the site. It is not 20 lbs. but 5 kilograms which is a little more than 10 lbs. Oliver had a ladder delivered to the hotel but it was too short- a step ladder- which will never do. I knew there was the right ladder at the hotel but I had been afraid to ask for it. When I had got to the point of needing to ask, the owners had gone on another vacation. The help was as desperate as I to have a ladder so it looks like I will be able to have it. I will deliver it about a mile to some shrubs closeby the site where it will be hidden.

The press will come to the hotel tomorrow and wait for a phone call from us that the action has started and where it is happening. Ross and Marian, who are not press, will be with us. I have mailed home my correspondance and the camera in regular mail (it will take 4 weeks). Cary Cavanaugh called to deliver a message for East Germany that if I were to take action against the Wall, there would be dire consequences. Cary said they did not elaborate. I told him, in effect, that the threat was redundant as military threat is a threat of dire consequences. It cheered me to know that the East German government felt I needed threatening.

I appreciated Mike Corr's compliments but for all his education he does not appreciate that before you can sell books, there has to be a market for the ideas the book represents. It is to create a market for my ideas that I am engaged in this attention-getting campaign. If we can't give one's ideas away, how in the world can you sell them?

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Aug. 7/86, 7:35 A.M.:

I have just had breakfast. Last night we brought the ladder down the 11 flights of stairs to the rose garden. When I awakened this morning at 5:15, I started the mile trip to the site. The ladder is about 12 feet long and apparently very old. It seemed to blend into everything so that I did not feel at all conspicuous. I doubt if it registered on anyone throughout the trip. Having tried for several years to be as conspicuous as possible. I was pleased in this case that no one saw me. It is a well made ladder with one leg mended and was a load for me. It was probably the heaviest work I have done in years.

When I arrived my sledgehammer was still in place and there is convenient shrubbery for hiding the ladder and shrubbery also by the viewing stand to hide the sledge. The place is Potsdammer Street, a great pre-Wall thoroughfare. All the tour buses stop here. There are snack bars, cards and souvenir conssions.

I plan to simply walk to the hiding place, get the ladder and place it very deliberately against the Wall. Then I will walk toward the viewing stand, pick up my sledge and walk back to the ladder and start climbing. I then plan on remaining cool, feeling my way as to what I can do safely with myself and my sledge. I will have accomplished my objective when I have stood on the Wall and broken a piece off it. Any additional damage will be pure gravy but not something I will endanger my limbs for. If the guards are asleep or if the problem of getting me off the Wall is sufficiently difficult, I might be on the Wall for some time.

Anyway it is a beautiful day, a little like Autumn. I am feeling "prime" as Mark Twain would put it.

Lovingly, John

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Aug. 9/86

Dear Louise,

I have arrived. I wish I could be home for a while to enthuse with you, Bill, and the rest of the family but I am back in my room putting back the clothes on hangers I had discarded, in anticipation that I would be deported and I am trying to re-orient myself to the new situation. I will be staying on for a while 'til another action is indicated to try and get the West Germans involved. Then I can leave.

In any event, it is important that I be out in the street today to show the people that have seen me in the paper and on T.V., that I am back. I also need to make some usable contacts and I would like to think that I have shown how a nobody can step onto the international stage, using the Gandhian approach, to challenge militarily imposed borders. It is unlikely anyone will see it in this light. I will be buying up the newspapers this morning with the small change I have left.

On the day of the event, Ross, Marian, Oliver and I went to the site. Oliver called the press and T.V. at the hotel that we were waiting and the place exploded with cameras. I went to the bush where the ladder was stashed and started carrying it while a flank of cameras performed. The only question put to me was, "Are you scared?" I answered, "Of course!"

I put my ladder against the Wall and then walked deliberately to where I had stashed my sledge. While the crowds of cameras surged up on the stand, hushed while I made my way up to the top of the Wall. All was clear as I looked over the desert that the Soviets have cleared for security. I promised to be careful and I was. The tiles were made of a fibrous material and proved to be more difficult to break than anticipated. I pounded away while the crowd stood as still as death, watching me with their shutters clicking. A jeep with three East German soldiers were there as I finished the two holes that I made in the Wall top.

They had a ladder but were making no move to come up to me as I walked the Wall and made my damage. I wa ready to give myself up and was indicating to them where they should put the ladder and I threw down the sledge. The ladder was put toward C.P.C. so I started walking towards it, very carefully. One of the soldiers occupied the top of the ladder to indicate he was not ready for me to come down yet. I looked along the Wall and there was this delightful opportunity "to walk the Wall" spread before me. All the cameras now were sighting along the Wall. I could see Oliver clicking away. One of the reporters climbed the ladder to take pictures.

Then they are carrying the ladder and I am very carefully making my way along the Wall.

The thought occured to me that I should go all the way along to Checkpoint Charlie. I turned a corner and ahead of me is another observation stand packed with people and cameras. As we move along the Wall, the crowd is rapidly accumulating. As we near C.P.C. the British police come out and ask me to come down to them. They offer no accomodation. There was no attempt to arrest me. I began to think the East Germans were going to play it cool and not arrest me. I was wondering what I would do if neither side would have me. An American M.P. asked me and then ordered me off the Wall. I told him I would give myself up willingly only to the East German police. The crowd is perhaps 200 now and the three soldiers from the jeep are putting up the ladder. I bid the cameras goodbye and climbed down. In the hands of these soldiers it was a replay of the other West/East over the Wall of June 9th.

I then got a real esperience with the famous Soviet inquisition (they didn't like me walking on their Wall), where they played a verbal manipulation of cat and mouse with a country bumpkin. I was questioned until 12:14P.M. before I had the wit to refuse to be questioned any longer. They largely said they would give me an hour to rest and then they would continue. I said I would answer no more questions until morning. What I should have said was I would not answer anymore questions, period! In the morning my interrogators brought me some scrambled eggs, bread, butter and coffee.

I gave them the name of the person that organized the press as I couldn't see what harm it would do. I had been withholding it because they wanted it so badly. The pressure was off as the questioning continued. I had been searched but I was not detained in a cell. I was in a furnished office with a guard all the time. The day before they had all my property spread out on the table. I saw the slip with Oliver's phone number on it so when they weren't looking. I crumpled it up and put it in my pocket. Now I told them that they had the number of the person that called the press but didn't know it from my pocket. The interrogator said quickly, "I knew it all the time." I recognized it for the face-saving response that it was and the pressure was off.

At about 4:00 P.M. I was turned over to the embassy official and I was offended at my being deportated by Americans and I threatened to non-cooperate to make an issue out of it. The council warned me that the East Germans were getting pretty fed up with me and that if I were to continue, I could be detained longer. He said he was getting pretty fed up himself. But a female consul who was a real diplomat told me about all of the great publicity I had received and that I should be in West Berlin taking advantage of it. They took me to the Consulate where Mr. Cavanaugh wanted to see me. He was all warmth and accomodation. He immediately had some news clips copied and arranged a phone call to you. I was released to the U-Bahn to find my way to the Stuttgarter Hof. It was now well on in the evening and I was completely exhausted. I yearned for my comfortable bed at the top of the hotel.

But when I got to the Hotel the place was alive with newsmen who quickly arranged a picture of me with the hotel manager and his wife, and took statements from us. And then I was then hustled into a vehicle and taken to the place on the Wall where the tiles that I had broken were being replaced. "We will have to do this quickly, " the reporter said, "because when they see us with a camera they will disappear behind the Wall." But when we set up for the picture one of the East Germans was taking pictures of us. I was then rushed to the eighth floor of the Axel Springer Building where I was again put on the phone to you while I watched myself walk the Wall on T.V. By the time I got to bed I was as fresh as a daisy. It was a great experience.

Rejoicingly, John

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Aug. 10/86

Dear,

For a while I would wake in the morning and think, "I have to go over the Wall." Now I wake to think, "I've gone over the Wall." It is a very wonderful feeling to have arrived, after this journey of eight years, to have broken the sound barrier and be invested with a friendly smile from strangers on the street. I went to C.P.C. yesterday after noon. The white line that represents the divisions between the two cities leaves no room to pass from the alley on one side of C.P.C. to the alley on the other, if you have anything wider than a brick. The area is being violated continuously without being challenged. I had been religiously picketing on the white line but today I moved over to the other side of the alley. I was defining a new border.

First the American M.P. ordered me to return to West Berlin which I refused to do. Then the East German border guards walked out to order me off the area but I stood firm. When they discovered they would have to drag me off in front of a sympathetic crowd, they retreated.

Quite a number of people accumulated who sat around waiting for something to happen. They would sit along the low flowerbed wall into East Berlin and the American police would periodically shoo them across the line. In about 2 hours, the guards returned with an interpreter who was in uniform. The lady ordered me to leave East Germany. I said, "No". The line was in the wrong place. The area was used as common property, unchallenged and, therefore, they could not claim it. They once more retired in defeat. A State Department official came to warn me that I should not be where I was and of the dangers involved in the course I pursued.

Mr. Cavanaugh came and made a not too convincing argument about the penalties the East Germans would impose. The penalties would increase in severity as the infractions accumulated. I told him that my experience was that the reverse was the case. We had a nice chat. I was interviewed by a Dutch newspaperman and a Dutch radio and T.V. person.

When I got back to the hotel, a man from Paris called who wanted to talk to me for a radio/T.V. show but he could not speak English. I had the girl at the hotel talk to him and he arranged that I would make a statement in English.

Back at C.P.C., I was having my picture taken on every kind of camera and people would have to walk out to pick up a pamphlet or get their picture taken with me or to get me to autograph their pamphlet. A person came to the line and said he would like to interview me and I told him he would have to come to me. I was polite and didn't tell him I wasn't accepting interviews from "sheep".

Herb Gilbert gave me a list of 50 artists that belonged to an internationalist-oriented group. I sent promotional material to them all but only one of them responded. He or she, I couldn't find a name, opened the letter. "Oh yes, what a refreshing message to hear from a masterly disarming fool like you." I felt properly complimented for the first time since I started this thing.

Lovingly, John

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Aug. 14/86

Dear Louise,

It is another nice day and I am folding leaflets for the street. My relationship with Berlin is not much changed. I receive no phone calls, no letters, no invitations to talk on T.V. I get quite a bit more change in my "spende" box and a smile of recognition now and then. Maybe twice a day someone wants to thank me with a handshake or ask for my autograph on something. I went into a local cafe where I had frequented and there was a great clamor at my entry. My hand was wrung and I was hugged until my ribs cracked. Someone stood me up for a beer. It was the most dangerous part of my invasion.

Later:

I intended to tell you about last night. One person doing "vulnerable aggression" and a hundred or so "demonstrating". I think I told you about my drawing a new line where I now stand to pass literature. Last night was the 13th. of August, the day the Wall started 25 years ago. When I went to my usual stand, there was a crowd there. There were about 10 extra police on either side. There was a boy making a row of little black flags between the chinks in the sidewalk, on the East side of the line. There was another person with a spray can painting a message on the wing wall. The police periodically kicked over the black flags and had someone cover the messages with white paint. People would crowd gradually over the line and sit on the edge of the flowerbed. The police would quietly shoo them back behind the white line.

My spot was about 12 feet into East Germany but I was left alone because both East and West German police knew that to move me they would have to make an arrest. Their obvious purpose was to get through the day without incident. Then the Liberals would go home for another year, the demonstrators were cooperative so the police let them diddle away the afternoon. I was so disgusted that I didn't stay long.

A great number who pick up my leaflets are elderly, frequently women. Today, an elderly woman picked up my leaflet and she explained to her elderly companion that I was the great John Runnings they saw on T.V. walking on the Wall. I didn't hear the conversation but the look of surprise and pleasure on the other lady's face was self-explanatory. The other lady had her camera and was propelling the delighted old crone in my direction. She presently got someone from the street to take the camera so that she could be in the picture too. There have been a number of things that have happened since I broke the Wall that have been satisfying but none so satisfying as this.

While I was being questioned by the East German investigator, the effort was to discover what Berlin organization put me up to this caper. Their favorite suspect was the people who are in charge of the Museum and the efforts of people trying to escape to the West. My statement that I did the thing on my own, to them, was obviously a lie. Today I met the monster in charge of the Checkpoint Charlie Museum. He presented me without preliminaries, with one of the books on the Wall. Then he took me to see a 3' x 5' painting of me and I was introduced to the artist. I was impressed with the painting, I wouldn't have had the heart to dislike it even if I wasn't impressed. Given my druthers, I would rather not have contributed to the Museum but I thought since I am looking for friends at both ends of the political spectrum, it might be a good idea (even though I was being manipulated). When participants started to set up to take pictures in front of the museum I objected. Dr. Hildebrandt, the owner, explained to the group that he understood. It was because I wanted to be independent. So we took the painting elsewhere to be photographed.

Mr. Cavanaugh was interested in when I would be going home. I told him that if I went home now and missed out on the political opportunities, I would be sick. It was a choice between living away from home or being homesick. I have several things I want to do. First, I want to do a "sit-in" at the Berliner Bank over their refusal to give me money on my bankcard. I want it set up so that I can get some news coverage on it and that means I must wait until Oliver Hermann gets back from wherever he went. Then I want to develop a campaign to leaflet for East Germany. Which in turn will require that I develop new material and I will need help. This means I won't be home anytime soon.

I mentioned the 50 names of German artists that Herb Gilbert sent me. Only one responded to my literature. He wrote me a highly complimentary letter and artwork on the other side of this sheet. Don't burn it until you have read the nice compliment at the bottom.

Lovingly, John

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Aug. 16/86

Dear Dear,

I'm wolfishly hungry and there is a church convention in the dining room having breakfast.

While waiting, I have dreamed up the launching pad for revolution by vulnerable aggression. There was a small story in the tabloid about the painting and I am allowing the Museum to have the piece of broken tile on loan while I decide whether to leave it here or send it home. I can mail it for 36 DM but the hotel manager would like to have it at the hotel.

I have the most delightful situation for the launching of vulnerable aggression.

"bild" newspaper (very conservative) by the great amount of exposure they have given me, have lamost given me their endorsement. The conservative "Museum" is enveigling me into endorsing them by accepting their painting of me. The Liberals are the only ones who have background in doing this kind of action that will unite the Germans. (Clause told me I was in the wrong newspaper to get the support of the Liberals).

Sunday Evening, Aug. 17th.:

I went to C.P.C. this morning with white paint and black paint. The white paint was to paint the new line and the black paint to paint out the old line. I painted a square about 5'"x 5"

and I painted about 5" of the old line. I spent about 3 hours on this project and the guards came by pretending they didn't see anything. Tomorrow I will paint a little more if I am stil out of jail.

Later in the afternoon a Norweigan student journalist approached me for an interview. Of course it was immediately granted. As the interview progressed the East German guard came to order the journalist across the line. I wouldn't leave my post. There were lots of people around so I asked the young man to wait until the guard got back to the booth, then he might not come again. It would excite too much interest. He came back again and the guard came back but by this time we both wanted to leave, so we went back to my room at the hotel.

He was very excited about all the things I had done and behaved as though he considered me a most fortunate find. He was enormously entertained by the things I have been doing in Berlin and would like to have me go to Norway when I finish my adventure here. He says I can stay with his mother free of charge as she belongs to "service", an organization that swaps hospitality and that I would be paid for appearances on radio, etc. That meant it would be self-financing. It all sounded too good to be true but I was listening. He and I were to meet downtown tomorrow when I will go to the main Berliner Bank where I will ask for money on my Mastercard. He will register the response for the media in Norway. We will try eachother out tomorrow.

I sent a lot of stuff home when I thought I would be deported and now I would like it back. I sent my camera but I don't know if it will be worthwhile sending back. I would like to have a copy of the press release for my trip to Moscow last Fall and pictures of my highly decorated vehicle.

Warmly, John

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Aug. 24/86

Thanks for the card and the letter. I was having a bite to eat (the hotel now favors me with free coffee). As Heike brought the pot, I told her tomorrow was my birthday and Louise had sent a card. I said my birthday is on the 22nd. and she said today is the 22nd. I looked at my watch and sure enough it was!

Yes, the news went worldwide (not on my birthday). Someone has promised to get me the news clipping from Australia and Peter Heartline sent me the clipping from Boston Globe together with liberal advice on how to be an effective politician (my interpretation). I think I have told you about my device for being politically effective at C.P.C. Since the action, I have been leafleting 12 ft. inside the D.D.R. After being challenged by three security systems, American military police, West Berlin police, and East German border guards, I'm still leafleting 12 ft. inside East Germany. There is still no one who has a place in jail for your husband.

Friday afternoon I saw that I had a nice audience so I took out my bottles of white and black paint and added some to the line I'm drawing (a few inches a day) and then painted a little of the old line out. Two guards had made the long walk to interfere with my tinkering with international lines. This, of course, produced a good deal of interest. When I finished painting, the guards returned the long walk to their booths and I returned to the new line with my box on a pole and a modified paint bucket to sit on. Two guards returned and carried me, sign and all, into West Germany. I waited until they were half way back to the booth and then returned to my post. Four guards were now sent to carry me again into West Germany, then two were left to ride herd over me.

At first I thought I would go hoem so I put my stuff together. Then I remembered that I always crossed the street at the new line and it was inside East Germany by 12 ft. I explained my difficulty to the East guards, but they were unimpressed. I tried to go around them but this didn't work. I am on one side of the line and the DDR guards are on the other with a crowd at my back. I set my sponge rubber-topped bucket down, sat on it and set up my box and pole then started passing out brochures. As the demand for leaflets tapers off, I thought it would be nice to have a cup of coffee. I sent an onlooker to the imbiss to get me one and it ocurred to me that the guards might like a cup of tea, too, so I ordered two more. The guards, of course, couldn't accept but the two cups looked very good sitting on the concrete between us. There seemed to be unusually heavy traffic in busses full of people rubber-necking to see the DDR riding herd on the "little old man". After I had entertained for two hours, I got chilly. It was about 6:00 P.M. so I bid the guards a good evening and went back to the hotel.

I had written a letter to Klaus, who does my copying and is, I believe, a figure in West German politics. I asked him to get me some liberal leaders together so I could talk to them, with a "walk on the Wall" in mind. As I hadn't received a response, I went to see him last night. He and his friend were politically evasive. When I enquired about getting translation done, they suggested persons at Bild newspaper or at the Museum. Having received their message, I went home.

Morgan and Kathy just called to wish me a "Happy Birthday". It was astonishing to hear his voice so clear and natural when I picked up the phone. I can get money from the hotel but he has to charge me 10% to come out even on my Mastercharge. I got 200 DM a week ago and it is still intact. I am now getting money on the street since the action and it has increased several fold.

The artist that did the homage to John Runnings lives at Minden, West Germany, 300 KM away. He is to visit me in early September. I hope to get him to do my interpreting, posters and press releases.

Lovingly, John

P.S. I went to the post office but remembered it was Sunday. On the way back I thought of some one-liners for you to explain my action on the Berlin Wall.

To develop a political campaign to:

1. Change military borders into political borders.

2. Replace diplomacy with legislature.

3. To defuse the arms race.

4. Bring the non-military relationships between domestic states to the international level.

5. Bring non-military means of conflict resolution to international disputes (diplomacy is a military means of conflict resolution).

6. Abolish military control of international borders.

7. Legislate international law.

8. Abolish the political segregation now justified by military considerations.

9. Open international borders to international politics, and...

10. To break down the military restriction (passports) that for now forbids freedom of speech between rival countries.

There are many other ways of saying it but this will get you started.

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Aug. 27/86

Dear Louise,

I think there are days shown on the calendar that I don't get the use of. I find a day is left out now and then. It is before breakfast. My mental machinery started up two hours ago and my mind churns the frightening projects that I plan for myself. I fret about the slowness of the days that are going too fast.

I had two authorities give opinions on Frank's German and neither of them found any fault with it. Both said that the pamphlet should be re-translated into newspaper German. On their advice, I am having a translation done by a man who works for Bild newspaper.

It will cost 150 DM. I have other translating I hope my enthusiastic artist supporter in Minden will do for me when he visits in early September. I am in a sweat to get the message spread that I will invite Berliners to walk the Wall with me on November 1st. and 2nd. but I cannot move until after John's visit.

I woke up yesterday with a splendid idea. Like other members of the species, I have the urge to get some paint and spread myself on the Wall. I had not hit upon the message or the place.

There are lots of places on the Wall that are so messed up that the messages could be painted over without offending anyone. Then I thought of the new tiles the Soviets had replaced for the damaged ones. They are already conspicuous by their newness, each being 12' x 16' in diameter. I would paint them white and then "West/Ost Ueber die Mauer". My name and date of the action would be next. The tiles are right opposite the viewing stand at Potsdammer Platz, where the busses terminate their tours of the Wall.

There are buildings under construction or repair all over the place. As I go by, the workmen recognize me and wave. I needed some scaffolding so I thought I would test my popularity in a practical way. I went into the jobsite next door and met the foreman who seemed pleased to see me. We could not communicate verbally so I drew a picture of what I wanted and he gave me his ruler to get dimensions. I am now awaiting the development.

Mr. Cavanaugh was going through at C.P.C. when I was having my standoff with the East German border patrol. He had come up the 11 flights of stairs, all 250 lbs. of him, and knocked on my door. He mentioned casually among other things, that I had been in Germany for three months and after that aliens were required to register. I mentioned casually that I didn't know what happened to aliens who failed to register. I thought this would be a good time to find out. I am still engaged in my painting contest with the border guards. I wait until there are quite a few people around the intersection and then I get my paintbrush and start painting the new line or painting out the old line. The guards from East Germany have to come about 300 ft. and it always attracts a good deal of attention. I also get the West German police and the U.S. M.P.s into the act.

The contested area is cleared so that when the fracas is over, I am 12 ft. inside East Germany and the onlookers are huddled across the line. Then one by one they come to me for a pamphlet across the forbidden area and they nearly all give me money.

Lovingly, John

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Sept. 2/86

Dear Dear,

It has been cold, windy and wet but there are dry spaces in between. I went to the foreman next door and found my staging bucks had been made. I asked if I owed any money and he said no. I had given him a nice drawing of what I wanted, something I could carry a mile or so. He gave the drawing to the carpenter and probably said, "It's the Mauer Mann. He wants staging bucks." The carpenter, used to making staging for construction workers, erred on the side of stoutness.

I wanted to get a poster made for my next campaign. I have someone at "Bild" doing the translation of the statement which I will give out this afternoon. I met the painter again and he was with Dr. Hildebrandt. This is the man the East Germans said was using me and Dr. Hildebrandt is using me. When I was at the Museum to look at the painting of me on the Wall, a lot of pictures were taken showing me me with Museum people. These have now been put in an album. They have the painting of me and my "brick" on loan. They are planning a postcard to which Dr. Hildebrandt offered to contribute 200 DM. Dr. Hildebrandt has Gandhi displayed in his Museum as the way to go and has hailed my effort as a kind of breakthrough.

For eight years, I have thought of my effort as showing liberals how to be more effective anti-warriors. Only hazily have I seen myself as bringing non-military means of aggression to the conservatives. My adventure has brought my mission here into focus. When I invented the idea of "West Berlin on the Wall", I expected that it would be like the "pee-in". I would be the only one on the Wall but that it would be a good device to get people thinking in a given direction. When I talk to Germans about this proposition, they now respond as though I was in my right mind. Having a public that takes me seriously does not come easy to me. I find it is exhiliarating but also disturbing. I feel a bit like Pinocchio going newly made into the world.

Earlier when I was denied funds on my bankcard by the Berliner Bank, I started to do a "sit-in" but thought I might get deported prematurely. I went yesterday to Bild (ther's an office closeby) and said I would do a "sit-in" to protest the bank's demand of a passport to get funds and would they like to cover the story? As I might have guessed, the first thing the reporter did was to suggest ways to circumvent the problem. There were banks where I would be more likely to get my funds but I insisted that I was after a confrontation. The reporter got on the phone and in less than an hour, I was told where to pick up my funds at the Berliner Bank.

Frustrated in my desire to have a confrontation, I went to the Berliner Bank and picked up 300 DM. The net effect of my stay in Berlin is to get myself made a man of privilege. I don't have to mind the police, I don't have to mind the State Department, or the American Consulate which is an accomplishment not to be disparaged, considering I have only been here three months. Everyone else must show a passport and my mission is to have this corrected.

At home I had a shop full of tools which I needed desperately to carry on my campaign. Here I have a paring knife, scissors and some pens with which I make up elaborate arrangements for the street. I am rather proud of myself in this and I can take my German to any member of the hotel management for corrections.

I have been having trouble with my appetite. Since the action on the Wall my belly has been demanding something more substantial than what I have been feeding it. I am hardly finished eating 'til it's advising me for my stinginess again. If I yield to its demands it kicks up a fuss because it is getting too much. There is no pleasing it!

Lovingly, John

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Sept. 5/86 (already so soon)

Hello Dear,

It is a dull day, cool and windy and I am dressed for Winter. It might rain but I think it will hold off until I can get some painting done on the Wall. I have one coat on one tile but while painting I didn't show over the Wall so I found some boards and extended the staging bucks. Policemen started to be numerous so I went back to the hotel.

There is a young journalist, Peter Dolle, who is trying to develop a news service for T.V. Over the weeks we have been having positive encounters so I told him if my painting the Wall was newsworthy that I would be glad to let him have an exclusive on it.

Yesterday, we arranged when I would start painting so that he could take pictures. I had already given one tile a coat of paint. When I returned to the hotel, two newspapers called wanting to know when I was going over the Wall. "Bild" had a photographer taking pictures when the police were around. I was lengthening the legs of the staging so I would be conspicuous to East Berlin while I was painting.

I didn't have the phone number of the artist I had asked to do my poster. I went to Checkpoint Charlie to see if I might run into someone who would know where to find him. I ordered coffee and sat down at a table in the Museum with a couple from Vienna in Austria. He was a journalist and was interested in the painting and as I couldn't see how he could be a rival of Peter's, I told him the time I would be doing it.

I hadn't found anyone who knew the artist and as I had on a previous occasion been in touch with him through the "Bild" office, I went there. I wasn't asked what I wanted but was whisked upstairs to an office off the lounge on the 8th. floor. I was asked when I was to start my action on the Wall? Here I was with the largest newspaper in Berlin after a story I had promised to a young man operating on a shoestring and who drove the ugliest looking VW I had ever seen. The reporter, whose name was Close, started putting the question in various ways to trap me into disclosing the time I would start my action.

I said I didn't come to talk about that but that what I wanted was the phone number of the artist. This he said I could have if I would divulge the time of my action. I said that was not enough inducement. He wanted to know how much inducement I needed. I said it was more than he could provide and I got up and left the office.

When I told the story to Peter, he was non-plussed that I had stood up to a "Bild" reporter to keep my word to him. He suggested that I give them a time 1/2 hour later as this would give him time for a scoop. So I called "Bild" and the other newspapers but I still don't know what all the fuss is about. All I am doing is putting white paint on a coupld of international tiles.

Lovingly, John

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Sept. 9/86 (Letter from Bill Bryan)

Dear John,

Sorry it's taken me so long to write again. My sister was here for two weeks and this tied me up timewise. She's into hiking and I took her on a tour of the Mt. Rainier area. She might even move out here someday.

About the homefront, I think it's a realistic statement to say that the U.S.A. is in a period of political dormancy. In the mid and late 60s, your actions in Berlin would be regularly making national news here, but right now things are dormant here and you've only got 30 seconds or so of quite shocking footage on CBS evening news.

That's a magnificent achievement but virtually nothing compared to the news you're making in West Germany. I believe you may be on the verge of becoming a national hero (in West Germany) and hopefully in time, this will lead to significant publicity in the U.S.A.

When U.W. reopens I will be postering campus with pictures of you sledgehammering the Wall. I expect that this will convince a few of the seriousness of what you're doing. But, unfortunately, Seattle is even more politically asleep right now than New York or D.C.

and they're politically asleep compared to Berlin. Still, you should come back soon to Seattle to begin organizing a small group of 5 to 10 people who'll join you in your actions atop the Wall. The U.S.A. can ignore one American sledgehammering the Wall, but it can't ignore it when as many as five Americans get up there at once doing the same thing you're doing now.

DON'T LOSE HOPE! You are probably now doing the most unique and creative political action occurring on Earth. The East Berlin police know how unique and creative it is-the rest of the World is simply not sure what this is and above all the media is not sure.

The media has an enormous influence on what people think. Once the media wakes up to what you're doing, you'll have to find a place to hide because everybody will want to do a story on you. I believe the time is almost right and when it is right, you'll probably have Life magazine wanting to do a story on you and the Wall.

Already, King 5 T.V. seems ready to do a story but even that will be small compared to the impact you're now having on the timid populace of West Germany. When they see pictures of an American making the Berlin Wall look like nothing, they can't help but think of themselves as rather timid- you just might be embarrassing a whole nation.

You are making them wonder why they didn't start sledgehammering the Wall back in 1963.

You've already made history even if it takes the world another decade to realize it.

I will write more later. Keep up the good work. I still can't believe these pictures- beyond our wildest imaginings of a year ago.

Your friend and co-conspirator, Bill

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Sept. 10/86

Dear Louise,

I was just getting myself adjusted to the proposition that I didn't have a wife anymore or that you didn't love me anymore and I would be alone the rest of my life. Then your note came, fortunately the stove went "Psst" to give you something noteworthy to write about.

The rainy weather has blown away and it was a beautiful day yesterday. It looks like another nice day coming up. At 6:20, Peter Dalle got me a list of news media and authorities so that I have a real good mailing list for my press release mailing. I got 23 letters stuffed last night. I wake up spinning my wheels in the morning so I thought I might walk down to Potsdammer Platz and do some painting on my tiles. I changed my mind and decided to write to you. Someone who could not stand all that white empty space on top of the Wall, took a spray can and made the same word with four letters cover the length of the two 14 ft. tiles. It is not an English word nor a German word but it is done in electric "pink". It doesn't bother me as I will just paint it out as I go along and it will hold the space from more objectionable painting.

I tried to get Klaus Druch, who does my pamphlets to do a poster for me as he is an artist of sorts. He wiggled out of it and then I tried Rudolph Zoble who did the painting of me on the Wall. I got an appointment with him through "Bild". Yesterday when I called at the office to find out if he had finished the Poster, I was told to call back in an hour three times and then they told me they were unable to find his number. "So I made up the poster myself."...like the little red hen.

I found a "typesetter". When I asked about a typesetter, no one seemed to know what I was talking about or said that there was one a long way away and was very expensive. When I asked at the library in America House, the librarian (librarians are the most obliging people in the world) looked up a place for me four train stops away. When I got the address the librarian gave me, I went into the building and looked at the directory but could not see the place listed. A young woman was coming out so I asked her. She directed me through the building, across a court, across an alley and into another building up 4 stories (no elevator). When I got up there, it was a very nice office with acres of space and a collection of potted plants. An indoor vine was attempting to make a partition. He, the typesetter, had this computerized machine and the words appeared on a screen. When he showed me the completed work the right hand side was the same as a typewriter would leave. I said that previously when I had typesetting done, that was straight and showed him an example. "Oh", he said, "Is that what you want?" and pushed some buttons and the letters scrambled around and arranged themselves in a nice straight line. I am having an English copy of the poster made that I will send to Bill to have duplicated for the university district. Also for the Seattle media.

This is a story that Peter Dolle made. He was at the press conference. He has shown a good deal of enthusiasm for my effort but like all the rest, he is scared to be "public" about it.

Affectionately, John

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Sept. 14/86

Dear Dearest,

The more involved I get, the harder it is to keep the room from looking like a mare's nest. I had some craft paper that I used for decorating my street display and yesterday the manager of a mattress outlet with a lot of window space on the corner, hailed me as I was passing. We discussed my efforts and he took one of my posters and put it in his window. Even with the whole window to itself, the poster looked inadequate so I put a large mat of red craft paper behind it. Almost immediately there was one person at the inadequate poster and a small group at the matted one.

I have been lettering on the Wall and when I am standing, my head is well above the Wall. One day a group of three soldiers came to the Wall and one of them explained the way things are in German. I smile and they agree and then they move back where they can watch me. This morning when I arrived at the site, my carefully done lettering was painted over, as well as the pink "VONO". I had completed one message that had been painted over so I had the Soviets to respond.

When I set up my staging, I found that the paint was not dry and as it had rained in the night, I took my rag and found I could wipe it off quite easily since it was a water based paint. While I was cleaning up, the soldiers came to tell me the way things were.

I hope to get a "Bild" reporter interested but it is Sunday and no reporters are available.

Getting back to my room clutter, I have three different boxes that make up my street display. Now I have a tray that fits on my pole to carry pamphlets in two languages. (That line is so funny, it's a pity to fix it) I have duplications of my press coverage and I am collecting newspaper clippings. Hopefully, with the aid of John Wessolowski and his family, we will put together another poster that will show crowds of people around to walk the Wall, including public figures, Snoopy the dog and Garfield.

I took the family to dinner the other night. He had invited me to hear Johny Cash but the T.V. programming didn't cooperate so on an impulse, I invited them all out to dinner. It cost me 80 DM which is a small price to pay for all the work that he has done for me, (and the many cups of coffee). It did sort of take my breath away. I have been feeding myself for less than 10 Marks a day.

I was out for the first time with my new posters at C.P.C. The pamphlets were picked up with a good deal of enthusiasm. I have one on display in the window of the Museum where there is always people standing around waiting to get in.

Monday, Sept. 15th:

I went to Potsdammer Platz at 6:00 A.M. to see if they had painted over my lettering and they hadn't. I made a correction that Heike and Hans drew attention to last night as they came by on their bicycles. The soldiers turned up to tell me how things were and when I got back, Heike bought my breakfast with a four cup coffee pot. How pleasurable it was to have coffee the right flavors, the right temperature and the right quantity.

Lovingly, John

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Sept. 21/86

Hello Dear,

It is Sunday morning and I have just had a nice breakfast of toast, jam and cheese. I had the toaster at my elbow so the toast was hot. The day is overcast but not as windy and cold as it was yesterday.

I seem to be doing so much preparation that I don't get out on the street. There is lettering on the Wall. I walk about a mile each way to do that. I was out at C.P.C. for a short time yesterday with my new poster I put together from newspaper clippings. I am quite proud of the fact that I was able to get Reagan on the Wall. At the copy shop, I can blow the picture up to any size and before me in my room is the very box to carry it. I would so much like for it to say "Remember November" but it won't rhyme in German.

Writing in German is a pain because I have no way of knowing what I am saying. All I get by checking it with a German is that the construction is adequate and I am conveying something. The German words may not be equivalent but rather synonyms (as you know synonyms are often inappropriate in some contexts). Then of course the poetry of a nicely worded slogan is impossible. Anyway, I am in Germany passing out literature, leaflets and posters in two languages, at the crossroads of the World.

I find I can make the DDR respond anytime I wish. They send soldiers with a truck to chase me off the Wall where I can perform before an audience. At C.P.C. I set up some posters on a conveniently located garden wall and two guards come and pick them up. Of course, I can go back to painting the new border line anytime I want. Yesterday, one of the British military police came to pick up one of my large posters of the multitudes walking the Wall and the initiative in German.

Affectionately, John

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Sept. 25/86 (Letter from Bill Bryan)

Dear John,

Here's a sample of news coverage that has reached Seattle. This was in Sunday's paper Oct. 5th. which probably reaches more people than would a weekday since the Sunday paper is combined Times with P.-I. Every time an Associated Press photo appears in the Times, we get a call from one of the local T.V. stations, KIRO, I believe. Someone there wants to do a story on you when you get back to Seattle.

I hope this arrest is like most others and that they won't keep you in so long. I feel sure they'll release you soon, so sure that I think you'll be out by the time this letter reaches Berlin. They don't want another Daniloff affair- the East Bloc realizes that this kind of publicity does them no good. It seems that the Times is now giving you more coverage than when you were in Seattle. Most of these AP photos have been on page 2 of paper which is probably read by more people than "local" section which was the usual when you were in Seattle.

I'm still working and looks like work will continue at least 'til Nov. 1. Transmission in my car is finally falling apart, so i am going to try and sell it at junk price within the next month or so. I expect I'll use this article when I poster UW campus- probably next Saturday. I'll probably use a revision of "Making a New World" poster of 2 years ago- when it was possible to get 5 to 6 people to show up at meetings. What do you think of the idea of a Seattle Satyagraha- patterned along the lines of Ghandi's group in his early activist days in South Africa? Maybe it's too idealistic. Let me know what you think of the concept. Good luck and keep me informed of your future adventures.

Your friend and co-conspirator, Bill

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Sept. 28/86

Dear Louise,

It is Sunday morning at 8:30. It was the changeover from "summertime" as it is called here. I have been over on the lot across the street salvaging some lumber for staging bucks and trestles. A young man who had a mission of his own, was promoting the idea of putting ladders over the Wall at the guard towers to encourage the guards to defect. He said he wanted to paint some words on the Wall and could he borrow my staging? Reluctantly, I said yes and left him with them. I showed him where to leave them when he was done but when I returned the following day, everything, including my paint, my pail, rags and brushes were all gone. And of course, my staging! i had planned next Saturday, Oct. 4th. at 2P.M. to go into the bushes and bring out my staging and planks. I wanted to set them up so people could walk the Wall with me. I am sure it can happen because when i am painting, I have to keep shooing tourists off my platform.

Anyway this place is surrounded by buildings and destruction. I found some nice sticks across the street and I spent an hour after breakfast cleaning them up. Hans is going to let me use his electric saw (I think it is a jigsaw), it will be faster than cutting by hand. I have launched my postering campaign and I get some "spende" in my change box. I was able to leave my display at Potsdammer Platz where tourists disengage from buses all day long. If I had another change can like that one, I could get a lot of posters out.

A couple of months ago, a young man by the name of Mirko read my pamphlet and was so impressed he grabbed a bunch and started handing them out. It was he who found me Klaus Druch to copy my pamphlets. He took off for West Germany, so I didn't see him again until the other day. He and I had an evening together and he invited me to a group that meets on the fourth floor (walk up) of a building in the Youngstown area. When I arrived there last night, Mirko had not appeared and one of the girls asked me if I was in psychiatry? I said no. Well, was I crazy? She said all the people here are under the care of a psychiatrist. There was a great spread of food and the host told me to go into the kitchen and help myself, which I did. I didn't see any signs of abnormality until Mirko arrived with a vine painted on his face. It was very nicely done. Mirko said his girlfriend wanted to do it so he let her. One of the group identified me as the "Man of the Mauer" so I was accepted. After I had eaten their food, Mirko said that he had a date with an audience to read some poetry. Would I like to come? I said yes. We went to another place where we walked up four floors. There were about 20 people in the first group and there were about 120 in the second group. We sat and listened while a number of people read papers, evidently an entertaining nature. Mirko wrestled with a couple of kids and when I left at 1:00 A.M., he had not yet done his thing so I took the train back to the hotel.

September 29/86

Yesterday Hans gave me his new electric chainsaw to cut out my trestles. He said he would have to have it by 1:00 P.M. as he was taking it with him on his short vacation. We had no nails so I straightened some that stuck out of the lumber and by 1:00 P.M. I had two trestles tacked together. I can get some nails today to finish the job.

In spite of the good feeling toward me in Berlin I have not been making any converts. I seem as far away from a breakthrough to an audience as I was in Seattle. I think it is interesting that Mirko expresses Anarchist sentiments like Bill. Anyway, I will tell you some more in my next letter.

Affectionately, John

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Oct. 6/86 (From Bill Bryan)

Dear John,

Thanks for the continued information on your "attack" on the Berlin Wall. The event in Nov. sounds exciting and I wish I could be there to help organize it and get it on film. I am still working and will probably need to continue as long as Goldsmith needs me, if I am to keep my "low but not bottom" level of seniority. There's work for the next month but after that, who knows?

Your Berlin activities have been very publicity-generating in Germany, but America probably won't listen until you've got several people standing on the Wall with you. The only real hope of this happening is via some sort of organization. The most likely case that I see occurring is your getting assistance from an already existent group in West Berlin- such a group would most likely be a German Nationalist-type, intent on reuniting Germany. I feel sure one or more such groups exist and that if you got such support, that group's ideology would become associated with your name (my guess is that you would find that too limiting).

Another possibility is to continue trying to form an organization here in Seattle. This would probably require experimentation beyond anything we've yet done. Something along the line of a non-violent group with a streak of "ideological militancy" in it similar to Gandhi's Satyagraha (sp). It will take considerable effort to form such a group (perhaps we could call the group, Seattle Satyagraha) in Seattle because it's a "small" city with few "political individualists". It would be much easier in Berlin if one of us knew German- the language barrier being an enormous problem as you must know by now! Another possibility would be London, but I doubt that either of us, much less both of us, will soon be ready to make London our permanent base of operations. So we're probably "stuck" with Seattle and will have to try to awaken what little latent activism we can find in this politically sleepy town. There's always the trip to Berlin every summer and with every passing year, one learns a little more German.

Of course, we know now we'll never find a more powerful symbol than the Berlin Wall. I'm quite convinced that your name is far more familiar to Berliners than it is to the people of Seattle simply because Berlin has the symbol and Seattle hasn't. But Winter is coming on and the Wall probably gets sleepy in Wintertime, so it's time you got back here so we can video the detailed story of your trip.

Your friend and co-conspirator, Bill

_____________________________________________________________________________

Oct. 7/86

Comment: At the Wall protest of Aug. 13th. initiated by the Checkpoint Charlie Museum, I saw that both the Eastern and the Western militaries were cooperating in protecting the Wall. And I wanted to test if the western M.P.s would forbid my proposed action called: "Berliners Walk The Wall With Me, November 1 & 2." So I campaigned to find those who would make a test of this Oct. 4.

Dear Louise,

This letter will be to you and our household: Bryan, Bill, Bryan, Stan, Constance and also Kebyn. (Is there someone I forgot?) You have not been keeping me up on the extended family. Perhaps these are the stories that you forget as soon as you get pen in hand.

Anyway, I've just had breakfast and the maid was as busy as a birddog so I was unable to get the usual attention. The manager has a big smile for me and "Bild" newspaper sent a reporter and photographer to my room after I got home at 7:00 last night. They came up 11 flights of stairs to welcome me back and express their concern for me. I was contacted by two other newspapers by phone. I saw my picture of when I was clinging to the Wall during my arrest.

Shortly before Oct. 4th., I met a friend of Peter Dolle who was full of ideas for the promotion of my effort. He was familiar with the press and media so he did some preliminary phoning but the T.V. wouldn't come unless I could promise a show. I said I would not be going over the Wall unless I had the West Germans with me as I was testing to see if the Allied Military and West German police would stop them. When I got to the Wall earlier in the day, the British M.P.s and German police were there in force. When I explained the situation, the British M.P.s left and only two city police remained. All the people that said they would come showed up including Mirko and an older man. (Mirko would be about 28 and the other man about 40). They said they would walk the Wall with me. The older man had spent a year and a half in DDR prison. They did not know eachother so I told the friend of Peter that we had the requirements to promise an action so he should call the T.V. which he did. I don't know what T.V. reporters use for conveyance but it was like he had brought them out of the phone booth with him. The three of us asked that the crowd, who took possession of the platform, to move so that we could go up. I asked that the Germans proceed me so Mirko got up and as the other German hesitated, I stepped up to the Wall.

I haven't seen him since. My guess is that he was a conservative and judged by Mirko's dress that he was a "peacenik" and did not want to take part in this effort.

I did not feel anymore secure on the Wall than I did the first time and the East Germans were prepared and waiting. They had warned me that I would be making a grave mistake and that I would be made an example for future persons to consider. In case anyone else was tempted to invade East German territory. Then they moved back to a cattle truck and I proceeded along the Wall. Mirko had struck out confidently and I followed a great deal behind and not all that confident. Then I heard a great roaring of a motor and a truck, in low gear, was coming up beside me. A husky soldier was straddling the side and as he came by, he grabbed an arm and a leg. Bringing me to the bed of the truck without a bump, they raced on to catch Mirko and brought him down the same way. Neither of us suffered. The bottom of the truck was full of pieces of metal ladders that could be put together to any length. When Mirko was searched, he was thrown down on these and handled in a punishing way. I was handled in anger but I was not hurt and the anger seemed to evaporate as we got underway. We were taken to the hospital and then I was separated from Mirko. Mirko was put in a cell but I was detained in the corridor. I couldn't see Mirko but he let me know where he was by singing "We shall overcome". I joined in to acknowledge my appreciation.

I was questioned for two days. The questions seemed silly for the most part. He saw me as a devious schemer whose slowness of wit and inability to remember accurately, was a device to hide my intellectual acuteness. To avoid answering his questions accurately, I played this game and I found this to be rather flattering. He would get quite excited when my account of events did not tally with an earlier account. His basic proposition was that I was unusually clever and this had to be outright deceit. I told him that I had no qualms about being deceitful to the DDR but so far I had no motive for doing so. That I enjoyed having the full attention of two men (sometimes three) for hours at a stretch rather than spending hours alone which would happen if I refused to answer their questions. So I spent quite an enjoyable sojourn this time. The last day they ran out of questions and I got to enlarge upon my mission. My audience was respectful if unconvinced, and the second investigator, who the last time had scoffed at the proposition that I didn't have backing in West Berlin, asked very good questions which let me enlarge on my proposal.

I was brought back by the Consul General of the U.S. Embassy in East Berlin and when I expressed surprise at having drawn such an exalted official, he deflated me by saying everyone else had gone home. When I was confronted at the American Consulate by a delegation of consuls to answer for my action and for getting Mirko in trouble, I felt I handled the situation very well. They seemed sympathetic when I explained that the abolishment of military borders might need stronger medicine than conventional protests.

Then I drew the contrast between the damage occasioned by military struggle and political struggle. I told them that I had not asked Mirko to walk the Wall with me. I had asked Mirko to look after my possessions at the site and he said he couldn't do so as he was planning to get up on the Wall. I will now have an emotional excuse for politically invading DDR territory. My theory seems being born out that with Gandhian politics, penalties become more difficult to impose as offenses multiply.

East Germans found it indiscreet to hold me for breaking and walking 500 meters on the Wall, the consequent political attention will make it even more indiscreet to put me away for a long time for a lesser offense. Unfortunately, political entities do not always act discreetly and herein is the danger that I may not be home for quite a while. On the other hand, it is hard for me to believe that my relations with the official of the DDR have not improved rather than otherwise since my first invasion of their territory. While I was allowed to take the initiative in the verbal exchange with my interrogators, I was invited to argue the merits of the various theories of arms control. I found them apparently vulnerable when I took the position that "arms" could not be controlled. The existence of arms was the evidence that non-military means of control had failed. There was no serious challenge to my position.

It is a dull day and I am getting hungry again so I will take this letter to the post.

Lovingly, John

P.S. I told the investigator that I thought that it was significant that I had been handled by the police 5 times in Moscow and 6 times in the DDR and had never yet been behind bars so he opened the frosted glass windows to show that there were bars out there.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Sunday, Oct. 12/86

Dear Louise,

Congratulations on your spicy retort to the reporter and on getting it printed. I was also pleased that I was not accused of being for disarmament. KIRO T.V. called with a similar disinterest in philosophy. I have resigned myself to the fact that the media can only be expected to spread one's name around but the reasons "why" must be spread by other means. The media is leaning over backwards to avoid being charged with promoting or encouraging this "old man". "Bild" let me use two of their people unofficially to translate the statement for my poster. Since then when I ask for translating, I get the run-around. The young man that did the phoning for press and T.V. for my last effort, has agreed to translate my proclamation and the "one liners" of my goals. All my equipment that I had for my initiative at Potsdammer Platz was taken: my staging, my paint, my painting equipment and my street display. While I am waiting for my translating, I am rebuilding my equipment.

It is a nice day today so I think I will get Hans to loan me his saw. The Hans that called you was not the Hans of the hotel. While Hans is the "john" of Germany, I do not know anyone by that name who might call you.

Lovingly, John

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Oct. 16/86

Dear Louise,

I've just had breakfast. I think it is strange that during the summer when one would expect it to be the peak of the tourist season would be over, the hotel is full of people.

I have been waiting for some translating to go into action aginst East Berlin with regards to Mirko. The problem with translating, I think, is that nobody wants to be charged with encouraging me in my efforts to bypass diplomacy. When I try to get translating done, I get the run-around. However, I do now have a young man who will do it. It was he who called the press and T.V. for my last effort. But even he will not tell me his name for fear it will be found out in East Berlin where he has a girlfriend. The DDR by granting privleges to West Berliners, can use these privleges to discourage relationships in West Berlin that they don't like.

The first reaction to the proposition of going over the Wall is that you might get shot, or put in a mental institution or imprisoned. Then you might lose your "privleges". All these arguments seem to have about the same weight. However, the young man, who has just joined the Army Reserve, is actively promoting me. He has been trying to get me an audience with American servicemen. He has also been talking to representatives of magazines and he did my translating.

A reporter from Finland sought me out and wanted me to walk the Wall for his photographer but he settled for a picture of me on my staging at Potsdamer Platz. The military police were there ordering me away but we got the picture. We had to get a taxi to convey the staging as this would be the ideal way of getting staging to a site. I wondered what the reaction of the drivers would be and of the two taxis, one there and one back, neither found any objection.

I was down to get a coffee and a "donor kebap", the pocket sandwich I told you about (It's a Turkish invention, John says) and I heard someone speak English. I wished him good day and he asked me where I was from. When I told him Seattle he gave a gasp of astonishment. He lived in Bellevue but worked in Seattle. He was even more astonished when he learned that I was the famous Seattlelite that went over the Wall. His two companions were from Washington, D.C. and they were very interested in what it was all about. I had them up to my room and they left with the literature.

Lovingly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

Oct. 20/86

Dear Dear,

My room is small and when I lose something there are not enough places to look. It is very distressing. I have now a display in the Museum and I am uncomfortable with it. The small display does not include the painting that Hildebrandt had made for me. And there is a message in German, French, and English to say what I did but only a line to say "why". I have a space 50 x 50 mm. which I share with someone else whose relevance in the context, I don't know.

I have tried to think of a way I could show my discomfort with the Museum without offending the whole conservative community. Dr. Hildebrandt has offered me money three times and anything else I might ask. When I asked the artist to get me a poster, "it wouldn't work out". When I wanted to put my poster in the window of the Museum, it was taken out the next day. There is no offer to give me a place to display my literature. Like the media, he wants to exploit the action without giving me a choice. I plan to develop my own promotion of 50 x 55 dimension and will paste it over the one that has been thrust upon me.

Int it, Mirko, rather than I, will be the prominent figure. I will have a couple of news photographers secretly take before and after pictures. Next Saturday I plan to take or attempt to take, my street display into East Germany until I provoke arrest. This is to draw attention to Mirko whom the media are ignoring. I have a very exciting week ahead of me. I have press releases to get out, the Museum display to develop which I expect to get me Brownie points in East Berlin. Then my action on Saturday where I expect to get points of another nature.

My embarrassment of Dr. Hildebrandt will please the East as the action against the Wall delights the West except that it will not be at all spectacular. My display will be quietly taken down and there will be no help from the press. I expect that such an action on my part will spread rapidly by word of mouth. Last week Hans from the hotel said excitedly that Dr. Hildebrandt wanted to see me right away at the Museum. I found him, he got me a cup of coffee and warehoused me in his office while he went on with his work. I soon got offended and made to leave but nobody moved to ask what was wrong, so I left. The next day he caught up with me and apologized. I had evidently been called to accept the display so he took me by the arm and expressed his great admiration for me. He took me to the display where he made a speech in German to a dozen people who happened to be there.

I bowed and they all clapped. Evidently, he decided not to make a news event out of it and there were no cameras. Thus by my rudeness, I had inadvertently avoided the public acceptance of the display which would have been an embarrassment in light of what I want to do.

Lovingly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

Oct. 31/86

Dear Dear,

I'm not going to tell all but I have a fabulous story. My paper has just been brought to me to write to you along with two English books. I went off my hunger strike yesterday evening and am being uncooperative this afternoon, after we finished negotiating my deportation and Mirko's release. Mr. Scholts, the DDR representative, said I should not be too surprised if it took 10 days to get me on the plane to Seattle. Later, he told me that he could hurry things up if I would apply for a passport. He said he didn't know how to get me out of the country without a passport. This tickled me all the way down to the ends of my toenails.

I have a very nice cell. The solitude of the jail administration while I was not eating, made me feel (even while being uncooperative) more like a guest of the institution than a prisoner. I told Mr. Scholts the story about how I got money at the Berliner Bank where I had been told it couldn't be done. Mirko was brought to the room with us. He looked very well and had had a visit with his girlfriend for an hour. I will let him choose what he can use from the things I am abandoning at the hotel. Mirko is a "deep-dyed" liberal and I have some conservative friends so I am happy to be leaving Berlin with what appears to be strong support from both ends of the political spectrum. I am in what appears to be a relatively new jail. It is "hospital clean". My cell, which I have all to myself, is about 9' x 15', tastefully decorated, conventional toilet and basin, tiled in mirror. Except for the door, it is like a low priced hotel room. An abundance of towels and plastic dishes and of all things, handkerchiefs! In all the jails I have been in, I never heard of such a thing as a prison issue handkerchief! There is also a gingham pillowcase and upper sheet. My cell is just one in a row of other cells so it is hard to think I am getting special treatment. The food is another matter. In their effort to get me to break my hunger strike, they brought me plate after plate after plate of food that looked so delicious it nearly brought tears to my eyes. They seemed to guess all my favorite foods. To save my strength for an ordeal, i spent all my time in bed. The stool would be placed beside my pillow and the tray would be placed where the aroma would drift past my nose. It was cruel and unusual punishment.

I responded by taking a plate and covering the deliciousness. Two guards, serious as church wardens, opened the door, came in and marched off with the plate. Now I don't believe this was regular fare fed to prisoners. Since I have broken my fast, I have been given food as though they feel they have to get into me all the food that I would have eaten in the five days I was not eating. Anyway, when a jail administration puts its mind to being nice instead of nasty, things can be very pleasant indeed. I understand that Mirko is going to be allowed to share the morning interrogation time with me. The interrogator, interpreter, Mirko and I will put the regular rules aside for a general discussion.

So far as I can see from the way I have been received , I must conclude that this summer I have not only broken down the DDR fence, I have carried off the DDR.

Lovingly, John

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Nov. 9/86

Dear Louise,

It is a cold, clear, windy day. Hans gave me one of his overcoats so I am not so bad off. Since my return from East Berlin, I have been interviewed by both ends of the political spectrum and I like it very much. Before I left on Oct. 25th. to provoke arrest at C.P.C., I had been interviewed by a couple of journalists for the Liberal press. They treated me to dinner. When I returned I was interviewed by them again and have a dinner engagement with them next Tuesday. There was a French journalist staying at the hotel but he didn't know English. As I had an interview with Peter Dolle scheduled, I invited the French journalist to meet Peter and told the story to both of them. Then Dr. Hildebrandt called to hear about my experiences and asked to come to the hotel. He told me that Mirko would be on T.V. at 7:00 for one minute so we had the hotel T.V. turned on so Dr. Hildebrandt and I could see it together.

Mirko was being interviewed preliminary to his walk on the Wall. He spoke with an easy flow of words and had a lot to say. I was extremely pleased for the connection in Mirko as it took my effort out of conservative hands. After we had seen Mirko on T.V., four young friends of Dr. Hildebrandt came to share with him, one of whom was his daughter.

It was proposed that I go to dinner with them. The restaurant happened to be close to the Museum at C.P.C. and Dr. Hildebrandt wanted to take me and them through the Museum first. I refused. Dr. Hildebrandt said he understood and that we would eat. When we entered the restaurant, everyone looked up in "friendly recognition", Dr. Hildebrandt said, "You have a lot of friends in here." None of the Hildebrandt party spoke English very well, including Dr. Hildebrandt.

The young men had nothing to say at dinner but two women in their early 20s kept a lively conversation going with help from Dr. Hildebrandt. After the party, we went together to the Museum. Dr. Hildebrandt said, "Come on I have something to show you." I was taken to the exhibit in my honor. They waited for me to say things that I should say after having eaten their food and shown an exhibit in my honor. I couldn't think of anything to say and as things got more and more uncomfortable, I shook Dr. Hildebrandt's hand and said, "I must be getting along."

It was fun to get three letters all at one time when I returned to West Berlin. There were two from Bill and one from Anna. Tell Bryan that I congratulate him on his cat door. I had been giving the matter some thought and like the Liberals trapped in the proposition that peace will come through diplomats, I was trapped in the proposition that it would be one door and couldn't come up with a satisfactory solution. When Bryan came through with two doors, I thought, "Hey, why didn't I think of that?"

Well, Louise, I have astonished myself again. I let it out to 95 media sources and East Berlin officials, that I would go to East Berlin and bring back Mirko Brahms who was still in prison for walking the Wall with me on Oct. 4th. To challenge a political entity over one of its prisoners is no small contract. Yet I went to East Berlin and brought back Mirko! I believe I just am getting credit for something that was going to happen anyway but you could never convince a West German of that. I was of enough consequence that the DDR and our embassy conspired to deceive me and attempt to get me to Seattle in a way least embarrassing to them.

On Oct. 25th. I took my street display and went to C.P.C. where an artist was finishing a very large display opposite the viewing stand at the Wall. A friend of Dolle's turned up who had done the arranging of the press contact for Oct. 4th. He said there were international agencies present and bid me to wait until others came. He is an aspiring journalist and knows the Berlin agencies. There is a flock of cameras getting into position and I am the star performer. I am not afraid in the normal sense of the word. I do not think I will be used badly by the East Germans. It appeared to me that all the things that I had been doing in the last 8 years, were building blocks necessary to this action. When I was arrested at the house, I tried out total non-cooperation on the Seattle police. It was a self-imposed ordeal wherein I was at times quite badly abused. And now I was about to try it out on East German police. Knowing what to expect helps reduce the fear and I was not inexperienced with the East German police.

I took my street display and ran into the forbidden area, soldiers flowing out to intercept me, I collapsed and was dragged to a nearby building. I suffered no rough handling until they tried to get me in the jeep. Then I suffered some skin off my thigh but no great matter. After a long ride, I was taken to a prison cell where I was gently laid on a foam rubber mattress. I was given nothing to eat until breakfast the next morning which I refused. I was later taken to the interrogation room by a large soldier that carried me over his shoulder. This was very uncomfortable as his shoulder bone dug into my solar plexus and rib cage. I was set into a chair and the interrogator used a parade of devices to get me talking but was unsuccessful. Coffee was served but I didn't respond so I was carried back to my cell. My discomfort did not remain unnoticed and I was carried in the arms, alter a rolling table and eventually a wheeled chair.

The American Embassy needed to ask me a question and I was carried across town to remain "slumped and mute" in the office. While not eating, I was comfortable as far as the belly was concerned. Except for an unsatisfied appetite, it was "no sweat." The kitchen outdid themselves to bring me tempting meals. I was offered a dinner garnished with radish and tomato flowers, napkins and all. One device was to bring me in a pot of stew seasoned with the most saliva producing spices and set it on my stool next to my pillow.

These delectable vapors were drifting over my nose when I saw a plate that would serve as a lid. I took it and covered the pot. Well, the door has a peep and three great iron bolts were slid back, the door opened and two uniformed men marched in, picked up the plate, about-faced and marched out again.

After 5 days I was taken to the interrogation room and Mirko was there with an older man about 50. I broke my non-cooperation for Mirko so he could say what he came to say. The jist of it was that he would not be released until they had made a settlement with me which was a promise to discontinue my action against the Wall. Then we would both be released to West Berlin. I told Mirko that we were using him as leverage to get them out of an embarrassing situation. I had initiated the situation and would make no promises. After a couple of sessions, my reply was that if I was released to West Berlin, I would break their Wall before an "international audience". I would rather go home so if they would deliver me to the airport and give me a ticket back to Seattle, I would cooperate with my deportation. The older man, Mr. Schrater, went away to confer with others. He returned to assure me that my conditions were accepted and I went off my 100% non-cooperation. After that Mirko was brought to the interrogation sessions with Mr. Schrater and we would have lively but pleasant discussions. Under these discussions, were veiled threats and promises. There was a possibility that Mirko might be put on trial. Mirko's birthday was on the 19th. Would ne be out in time to celebrate? Would I like it if it could be arranged that I celebrate with Mirko? The interrogator suggested playfully that he might have to invite me to his house at Christmas. I replied that I was prepared to stay however long the East Germans wanted to keep me and I could even arrange to pay Mirko 20 Marks a day until he was released. It was inadequate compensation for loss of freedom. The interrogator "pooh-poohed" but it slowed him down. While I was cooperating, I was fingerprinted and mugged. When they took my picture, they removed my prison jumper, and took my picture wearing a light green shirt. It wasn't until it was all over that I tumbled onto the fact that they were getting a shot for my passport. I had promised to be uncooperative until Mirko was released and he wasn't being released so I continued to be uncooperative. The Embassy needed to ask me another question so I was carried again across the city. Mr. Schrater had asked me for a written statement to say that I would cooperate with my deportation. I also gave one to Mirko for the hotel, stating that he was to go through my effects and take anything he wanted.

These two statements were before the diplomat when I was delivered to him. He wanted to know if I had written these statements and if so, whether pressure had been applied to get me to make them? When I remained mute he said I could answer if I chose, by nodding my head. I did not. On my return, my being uncooperative was limited to not eating and not moving of my own free will. I am free to challenge Mr. Schrater in his connection that he is in the process of carrying out my wishes. Saturday afternoon he arrived in an expansive mood accompanied by Mirko. It was all set! He had accomplished the impossible and we were to be released together the following day!! Mr. Schrater, the interpreter, the interrogator, Mirko and myself are all in transports. A big meal is ordered for me and pots of coffee for everyone. We entertained eachother by trying to see who could be the wittiest. Radio and T.V. missed out as they weren't hooked up to our interrogation room. Then I asked Mr. Schrater a serious question. I said I had been in jail for 10 days and I had seen miles of prison cells and any number of guards. The only other prisoner I had seen was Mirko. Mr. Schrater said, "Well, it was like this. We don't have much crime over here and when you announced that you were coming over the Wall, we knew we would need a prison, so we built one."

A big breakfast was brought to me the following morning at 6:00. By 8:00 we were on the road in a large VW van. The driver, a plainclothes man (presumably), Mr. Schrater, the interpreter, Mirko and myself. The sun came up on a beautiful Autumn day. We were like guests to a family on a picnic. The talk and banter continued and Mr. Schrater said, "Are you hungry, Mr. Runnings?" (I had seen that the back of the car was full of picnic hampers.) I said that if anyone else wanted to eat, I would keep them company so the hampers were uncovered exposing all kinds of goodies. There were open meat sandwiches, boiled eggs, apples, cookies and thermoses of coffee, pop, etc., etc. We ate while driving through miles and miles of open country. Fields of Winter wheat and overturned sod stretched out for miles in every direction. Areas of forest and trees were in their Autumn colors and it was a very happy time, indeed.

When we got to the West German border, we entered a compound.

It was here that I found that my picture of my deportation did not match what was happening. A Red Cross ambulance pulled into the compound and we were given to understand that we would be going across the border in this ambulance. I thought, "O.K., Mr. Schrater had to stretch a point to get me across the border without a passport." We drove for several hours more through the West German countryside. There is an official looking car following us and Mirko thinks it is a Secret Service vehicle. Eventually, we stop to answer the call of nature and discover that they are diplomats and we are to go to the town of Gessen where GDR refugees are processed. It is where there are thousands of Americans for the American armed forces in Germany. The situation becomes more and more at variance from what I had been told to expect.

At Gessen we are taken to a large conference room where I am given a passport with a picture and told I am now free!! I look at the passport on the table which I have not yet picked up and I am getting pretty burnt up. A man who appeared to be the German diplomat and had only limited command of English said heavily, "Mr. Runnings, you must never go over the Wall again." I picked up the passport, tore it one way, folded it over and then tore it the other way and then threw it on the table. No one appeared to be disturbed. A plump man I took to be an American diplomat said, "Mr. Runnings, you should not have done that. You will need that to get into the United States." It was explained that if I needed a room for overnight, the embassy would arrange it for me at no cost. There was some vague talk of an air ticket. At length I was to understand that there was a ticket for me at the embassy in Frankfurt, 80 KM away. The diplomats would arrange transportation. It was Friday and the diplomat in Frankfurt was keeping late hours to accomodate me. "Be sure to thank him." I am being driven around in the embassy car while the diplomat takes care of arrangements. He is dickering with an army officer to take me to the embassy. I'm trying to work out in my head what's going on. My inclination is to return to West berlin but I don't know if I will have enough money. I have 100 DM and the banks might be sticky about getting me money on my bankcard. I needed the passport that I just tore up so the diplomat and I are concerned that the passport be taped together.

I have the means for returning to the U.S. and I have the means for returning to West Berlin. Someone was found who neatly taped the passport together. The army officer was busy so he came to me and said, "If you are prepared to wait a couple of hours, I'll get you to Frankfurt or I can send someone to take you to the trains here." I said that is exactly what I want. The diplomat said, "Mr. Runnings, you are making a mistake! Frankfurt is a very large place and you will soon be lost trying to find the Embassy." I said, "Well, I make lots of mistakes"....and richly enjoyed his discomforture.

Immediately a black soldier was given orders to take me to the station where I bought a ticket for 12 DM. I was "free" of the Embassy and the GDR. I arrived in Frankfurt about 6:00 and bought a ticket to West Berlin for 104 DM. The train didn't leave until 10:35 so I bought an International Herald to find out about the Republican embarrassment in the recent election. I ate at different conventional eating places such as Wendy's, Whopper and Burger King to fill up the hollow place beneath my belt. On the way to West Berlin, the booth I chose was quickly empty and I managed a fairly comfortable position and went to sleep. About 3:00 I wake to find a soldier in my booth. "I would see your passport." I showed it to him. "Any other identification?" ,he asked. I fished out my bankcard and drivers permit. "Give me 10 Marks", he said. "I don't want to give you 10 Marks. Why should I give you 10 Marks?" "Give me 10 Marks!", he said pleasantly. "O.K., I'll give you 10 Marks." He then made out a passport into GDR.

I arrived in West Berlin at 7:00 A.M. just in time for breakfast at the Stuttgarter Hof. Mirko had left me in Gessen to pick up a flight ticket to West Berlin so I called up his pad to see if he had arrived. He was not in but called later to say he was to be shown on T.V. I called the journalist that interviewed me just before I provoked arrest. He set up another interview. I now have a press agent. The young man who organized the press for Mirko and me on Oct. 4th. is going to call a press conference at the hotel. He is concerned about how I will present my case and what I will wear. We are to go out today to buy the sweater he thinks I should wear with my black suit, also a new pair of shoes. The press conference is quite an ambitious affair wherein Dr. Hildebrandt will officiate. A representative of East Berlin, a representative of West Berlin, etc. would be there. Chris is between 25 and 30 who impresses me as someone of considerable ability and with a wide knowledge of German affairs. He woke up the other morning to find me the second item on world affairs. He quoted verbatim what was said. He impressed upon me the pinacle that I occupied. I was grateful for his commentary, for up 'til now I had the feeling that I was campaigning inside a paper bag.

I have it from two official sources that if I go over the Wall again, I am to be put away for a "loooong" time. So don't look for me at Christmas or the next Christmas or the Christmas after for I am going to break the Wall before an international audience and give myself up to the East German authorities. While writing, I got a call from someone who wants to do an interview at 1:30. It is now 12:40 and Chris will pick me up at 2:30.

Lovingly, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

Dear Dear,

There is a press conference today at 1500 hours at the hotel. I have my opening words written out. I thought if the president could read speeches so could I. I thought I would get this letter started and then I can finish it after the press conference. I went next door to the building site and arranged for the lumber for the ladder I will build. I went to the hardware store to see about a hammer which I will pick up tomorrow. The action will be close to Checkpoint Charlie , Tuesday at 9:00 A.M. My press agent is taking charge of refreshments. We will go shopping for some items for my attire. My speech is at the typesetters.

Yesterday I went down to the imbiss to get a donner kebop and when I returned to the hotel, there were three men in the court who looked at me as though they recognized me but had not met me yet. I suppose it was a chance meeting of a reporter as two of the men carried cameras. I lingered on the stairs until Hans called to me. At my invitation, the three men followed me up the stairs and at one of the landings, one of the men took no end of pictures. Then we went to my room where I sat upon a chair and while I ate, he continued to take pictures and then left. The third man came in, sat on the bed and questioned me about what I was doing. He indicated that he was very impressed and congratulated me. I was unable to find out what paper he represented.

Today at breakfast Heike said that this man was a Lord in England and a brother-in-law to the Queen. Whatever I may think about royalty, it is hard to be unimpressed that I have brushed with one of those exotic birds. I picked up my speech and went to keep my date with Chris. When I told him about the Lord I had contacted, he was absolutely staggered, "If it wasn't that you seem to be ignorant of the importance of this, I'd think you were lamming me. That is Lord Snowdon!! He is the most famous photographer in Europe!! He deals only with the top celebrities and he sells to the top magazines!" Then he shows me "Tip" magazine which corresponds to "Life" in the U.S., for the Europeans. The second article was a page and a quarter, all about me, with pictures.

I bought a new pair of shoes and a sweater to go with my gray slacks. I got my speech duplicated and then it was time for the press conference. Thirty one people showed up. The highest prediction was there might be as many as 20. They were mostly photographers and didn't seem very interested in what I had to say. It is now about 8:00 P.M. and I have an interview with NBC in a few minutes. I would rather it was the Associated Press. He arrived late and took us out to dinner. Myself, Mirko, and Chris and he listened to my adventure with the Embassy and the GDR. I also told him of my encounter with Royalty and the many trips to Moscow. I told him of my efforts to point up that international airports are involved in maintaining the political segregation of international states. Most of all, he wanted to know the details of our effort against the Wall, Tuesday at 9:00 A.M.

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Dear Reader,

There is a letter missing here. I had made a promise to Mr. Schrater that if I was not deported to the U.S. I would break his Wall before an international audience. And I had boasted to the press that my Vulnerable Aggression was working so well that I could continue my campaign with impunity. I was not quite so sure of this last as I prepared to break the Wall November 18.

I quickly climbed my improvised ladder before an international audience. I threw my leg over the Wall and looked down the other side. A guard was looking out the window of the tower across from me and two ladders were lying along the Wall. And as I wielded my sledge to break the Wall one of the ladders became perpendicular. And I had hardly made a fist-sized hole when a guard was running up the ladder. He grabbed my coat and jerked me from the Wall. True to my mission my first thought on hitting the concrete 13 feet below was, "They made a mistake." I was immediately dragged to a jeep by two guards. The guards must have shared the indignation of the East German establishment for I was in the hands of angry men. And no care was taken to consider injuries. I was loaded on the jeep, I was taken to an ambulance. The door in the back was opened and I was flung onto a stretcher in the ambulance. I was taken to the cell I had occupied earlier. Almost immediately the door was opened. Outside was a wooden chair with wheels. I was thrust into this and taken to be interrogated. This happened again for three days before I was examined by a doctor. The doctor examined me roughly with his fingers only. He registered hostility, and declared that no bones were broken. I was later put in a cell with two inmates who were serving time for trying to defect to the West as later letters will show.

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Nov. 28/86

Dear Louise,

I hope you got my message through the American Consulate that I am on the mend. I feel particularly good this morning. I have little pain and I can get about on crutches. Two German boys about 23 years of age live in my room and are most solicitous of my care. The bed is soft and the food abundant.

I have three English books to read; Wuthering Heights and Modern Humor...that is, modern to the late 19th. Century. They turned out to be stories about the upper crust in England engaged in politics. The stories are good enough that I have neglected "Wuthering Heights" which is an excellent book but I have read it two or three times already.

For breakfast we had open-faced sandwiches of meat and strawberry jam with tea. We have three meals a day with a snack in the afternoon and morning. The young men are always fussing over me to a degree that I find both pleasing and annoying. I believe I will be recovered quite quickly but whether I will be home for Christmas is something I could not guess at. Warm thoughts to all at home.

Affectionately, John

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Dec. 29/86

Dear Louise,

Goodbye '86 and Happy New Year. I was given a personal party with two of the prison staff which included a duck dinner and a bag of goodies for myself and my cellmates. While the party was in progress, one of the staff triumphantly produced your letter. The U.S. Embassy also presented me with a big box of goodies, while my cellmates contributed a surefeit of goodies on their part. Thus, Santa Claus seems to be able to get in and out of prison this time of year.

Your letter was very newsy as usual. I think it is amusing that my detractors are saying almost word for word in Seattle what I hear in Germany. That is because the press will not take part in the promotion of my theory that I may as well turn up my toes and die.

"A one-time spectacle with no more political impact than a two-headed giraffe." I have not been recovering from my injuries as fast as I had anticipated. I can walk well and sleep well but a sitting position is very tiring and after a short time, very painful. If I am not sent home yet it may be partly due to the fact that I am simply not recovered enough to undergo the trip.

Books re brought to me each week, many of them I enjoy while the others I read because there is nothing better. I have currently, Ben Franklin and Tom Paine.

I was very pleased to hear of Kathy's pregnancy although I cannot like the relationship. I hope they plan on getting married as I like Kathy very much and want her to ge a proper daughter-in-law.

The cell I am in is almost exactly the shape and size of the cell I was in last year in King County Jail which held 16 prisoners. My cellmates and I eat our food from regular dishes which requires kitchen duties but gives the cell somewhat of a homey atmosphere. I am sorry now that I did not learn German as I am unable to communicate with these boys that wish me well. Warm thoughts for all those at home that wish me well.

Lovingly, John

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January 6/87

Dear Louise,

I have three Christmas letters and the letter I answered on the 29th. and of course I enjoyed them all very much.

Glad to know that Kathy is back safe. I hope you had a nice Christmas, New Years and I am sorry I cannot be with you today, our 35th. wedding anniversary. I enjoyed the Christmas attention I received from the Embassy and the prison administration.

I have been in very good spirits. The days are long of course, as I say- you live longer in prison. I am gradually getting stronger. I was examined Monday and given a therapist who will work on my back three times a week and they are feeding me pills for my heart and for a mineral deficiency. I feel I am in good hands.

I have been reading the English books that have been selected for me and I have just read two: one is set in Massachussetts and one in the Volga. They both started out with a problem which I expected they would resolve by the end of the story but instead they developed one with it. I think such stories are a cheat and should be accountable.

The food is so good and so abundant that I'm inclined to eat too much and it's good that I don't put on fat eating sugar as the Christmas season would leave me pudgy. One of the cellmates had his teeth pulled so he gets a big bowl of something soft and as it is always more than he can eat I get variety when he shares it with me. I hope you tell Neika and Kebyn that I think about them, as I do all the others.

My time is well spent for although we have no writing material in the cell I lie on my bunk and work on refining my perspective and I am forever surprised at how fruitful of inspiration is the proposition I am promoting. I may get started on that book I have been preparing for years threatening.

It is snowing here, great big flakes. Please assure Ethel that so far I might have been in a hospital with no more freedom than I have here and I doubt if the accomodation would be much better.

Lovingly, John

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Jan. 13/87 (from East German Jail)

Dear Dear,

I am struck with the contradiction that my life seems to be so swiftly passing by while I lie on my bunk awaiting the slow minutes. From 11:00 P.M. until 6:00 A.M. time passes at the usual rate, but after breakfast the clock stops and again after lunch and then after supper. It is a perversity of nature that she is so lavish with time when you don't need it and so miserly when you do. If I could have had the time I have now as a carpenter, I could have made three times as much money and still have had time for a snooze in the afternoon.

I received your letter and the adventure of the rat. I have not been introduced to Annika. Somebody unloaded their cat on you again.

It is cold outside! Real Ontario weather. We have the option of being taken for an hour in weather, so I asked this morning to be taken out and I was given a heavy coat, stocking cap, and shoes all bright and new. I haven't been to feel the weather yet. I do spend a good deal of time planning and my reading material often prompts inspiration in my contest with the culture and a new angle for presenting my ideas emerges. I am still under detention awaiting trial. When preliminary proceedings are completed with respect to my "Punishable Act" the findings will be given to the prosecutor who will give them to the jury and then the jury will set a date for my trial, so don't hold your breath.

In spite of all this, I find myself consistently in good spirits. However, I find my injuries disappointingly slow in healing. While I can walkd confidently, my lower back gets tired quickly and painful sitting or walking.

Whoever selects my books does a rather good job. I have just finished Sials Marner, which I had already read twice, but being blessed with a poor memory I enjoyed it a third time. I would like it if you would write to Elaine and Jean B. for me.

Lovingly, John

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Jan. 20/87

Dear Dear,

I will not be able to write to Fernand, so I hope you will. I will try and explain why I couldn't visit him this summer. Tell him there will be other summers, and now that I have started continent hopping I might like to work in a visit to the Vennemans. Yes, I can remember when we had a house that was filled with Ocheltrees. I was thinking seriously of moving out. I am glad to hear all the news from home.

It is snowing again here. I thought I would put my concern for the species aside for a bit and give my mind to the rat that invaded our house. You will have determined the access, the cat door that Bryan made, and since it was a young rat and inexperienced, it would not be surprising if it mistook a cat door for a very coomodious rat door and found out its mistake when it was pounced upon by two cats inside and to escape into the library. you let it out, and by now its mother and father and maybe some cousins will have come in to share the space behind the groceries in the kitchen. For a door that will let in one rat will let in several and so the door has opened up the house to all the rats in the city. Now it would be easy to make a rat door that would keep out a cat, but how to make a cat door that will keep out a rat? It is too much for me, so I think I will go back to worrying about Homo sapiens.

My back seems to have stopped improving and I suspect I have a slipped disk or something. I have asked to have the matter looked into.

Yes, of course, go and buy the chair. We may find our offspring having babies all over the place now that age is creeping upon them.

We have pretty well finished up the Christmas goodies. I don't think you told me what Peter does for a living. Is Gwyneth still thinking of moving back to the coast? Have you heard from Elaine? I suppose Zachary is Lois' child. What a name to impose on a helpless infant! I have read "The Disinherited" and "All the King's Men". It is a little like the "last Hurrah" (the latter) but I liked the characters in the "Last Hurrah" better.

Affectionately, John

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Dear Wife,

The Administration has become concerned about my not getting your letters and inquiries have been made. I have been instructed to write 'Air Mail' on my letters.

I received your letters telling about the wedding. I wish I could have attended. The plan of the house looks familiar. You will remember that Harky also started with a shack that he sold to Gloria for $10,000.00. He bought it for $1,700.00 but the best thing about buying a house is that it gives you roots.

It is a clear day today and I expect just below freezing. (I have just been handed the letter I need). We get 5 books a week, two of the last were about slavery; a compilation of statements of the slavery issue in the U.S. and a report on the effort on the part of the Chinese to abolish slavery in isolated areas in China. I was impressed with the sensible way they went about it.

The preliminary proceedings are closed today on my court case and the report will now go to the prosecutor and then to the jury who will set the date of the trial.

Affectionately, John

_____________________________________________________________________________

Feb. 2/87

Dear Dear,

Clear and cold again. There were a couple of days that slipped by that I don't remember using. My two cell mates have gone and I have another who has learned English in school, so we can converse after a fashion with written English. We had a kind of a black porridge with our potatoes for lunch. I didn't recognize it as anything I had eaten before, but I attacked it bravely. When I was half-finished I asked my cell partner what it was. He got the translator's book and showed me the word blood. I had rather enjoyed it up until this point.

We get five books once a week, chosen for us, which I don't mind, as I always found it difficult rummaging through a whole library to find something to read. The material is rather heavily political that I get. I could use more variety.

I am still in good spirits and am satisfied with the way things are going except my back does not seem to be improving as fast as it should.

I received your letter of January 16th. I hope Cathy can get that footage of the Wall. It is possible that the story in the Globe & Mail was by the couple in Massachussetts who did the film on me in August.

Lovingly, John

P.S. No indication that you are getting my letters!

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Dear Reader,

Some letters appear to be lost here. I was sent a lawyer to advise me about the trial. I told him I would speak for myself. He said that would be allright. So I asked how many spaces were there in the court procedure where I might say my piece? After a moment's reflection he counted five.

I was taken to the Embassy and the ambassador asked me if I would like him to attend? I told him I would think about it as I was not sure and as I would be seeing him again before the trial I would let him know when. When I saw him again I thanked him for the offer but felt that to have the United States in my corner would destroy the point I was trying to make, that the quarrel was between me (a world citizen) and the DDR. He said that it was required of him to be at my trial whether I wanted him or not. Before the trial I went each day to the hospital over a period of perhaps more than a week to test my physical and mental health.

Each morning I was taken to a room where my clothes were returned to me all laundered and with a clean handkerchief. Getting into my clothes was very difficult as my back was far from healed. I had to lie down on the floor to put on my trousers and then there was getting up again. But I had plenty of time before two men in dress suits came to pick me up. They handled me like fragile pottery. They put dark glasses on me that kept me from seeing where I was being taken.

T the hospital a young man was giving me a test at pushing buttons to make things happen when a man entered. His age would be between 50 and 60. And for some reason or other, having seen him do nothing more than take off his coat, he came across to me as the nicest man I had ever seen. And the sight of him dredged up a memory of a Christmas card that pictured an Englishman at his cottage door welcoming guests. This turned out to be the person who would do the tests to see if I was sane enough to stand trial.

I was given a long list of questions to answer. And I thought that a reasonably intelligent insane person would know what answers to give to hide his insanity. In another room a woman did incomprehensive things on an incomprehensible machine that was fastened to my head by a dozen wires. And I wondered if it were some kind of an electocuting device. In another room there was a huge device like a part of a wall set at an angle to the perpendicular. In this there was a central hole at the bottom. Through this hole were two rails on which a bed rolled on casters. It looked like it might be some kind of an electronic beheading machine. And then I thought of the nice man in charge and was pretty sure he wouldn't do a thing like that even if he was a Communist. So I submitted to being positioned on this device and I was pushed through the hole. There was a noise like a train going around the round house, but no physical effect.

The psychiatrist himself gave me tests that were puzzles which I didn't like because I am a slow-top in this area. Puzzles puzzle me. I must have done pretty badly because he apologized for me, commenting that we were getting older, he and I, and weren't as bright as we once were.

Anyway, he found me sane enough to stand trial. And he staunchly defended my sanity in court.

At the trial there were three justices. The presiding judge sat between the others. The spectators were perhaps between fifteen and twenty. I spoke in all five places. I opened with Tzar Nicholas and the Hague Peace Conference and ended with the rationale that prompted my action on the Wall. The lawyer for the defense spoke at length in German. The lawyer for the prosecution had a problem. On the first count my "punishable act" called for a penalty of from five to eight years. The second count was one to five years. As the purpose of the trial was apparently to get rid of me, the lawyer found himself saying some very positive things about me to justify deportation and an 18 month suspended sentence for five violations of their militarily-imposed border.

But if anyone thinks that the East Germans let me off lightly I am sorry to say that it just isn't so.

Because I wished to get my letters past the censor I didn't mention the agony that I endured under interrogation for two months, five day s a week, eight hours a day.

On November 18th., 1986, I was pulled from the Wall. I was taken unceremoniously to a cell in a detention facility and laid on a bunk. I had sustained three serious injuries. I had fallen on my tailbone. I had another injury, later indentified by my doctor in Seattle as a broken back at the second lumbar vertebra. I had an earlier injury that was reactivated by the fall. And all three screamed pain eveytime I was moved.

Almost immediately the door was opened and a wooden chair with wheels appeared outside. I was lifted from the bed and put on the wheeled chair and wheeled into the interrogation room. This was the beginning of a twice daily ordeal in which I was taken from my bed, carried to the chair, rolled to the stairs, taken from the chair, carried up a flight of stairs, put in the chair, taken to the interrogation room, put in a straight-backed chair. And then the pain of the reverse order when I was taken back to my cell. Later I was given an armchair so that I could take some of the weight off my torso with my arms and so relieve to some extent the pains of my injuries.

And as time went on my transporters endeavored to carry me as gently as they could under the circumstances. And for those two months I was subject twice daily to this seemingly interminal inane questioning.

It took eight men and two vehicles to take me to Prague where I was put upon a Czech plane to kennedy Airport in New York. In concern for my injuries I was provided with an empty seat where I could lie down during the five hour trip to Prague. But my curiosity kept me bopping up and down to see the countries through which we were going. As a result, I was pretty near exhausted already by the time I was put on a crowded Czech plane. The seats on the plane were spaced so close that there was no room to stretch one's legs. And as I remember there was neither refreshments nor meals served throughout the trip.

As you can imagine, when I got to New York I was even worse off. It was Winter and I had only summer clothes and it was evening and I had but $3.00 in my pocket. To meet me was a young woman reporter from the Associated Press and her photographer. After she had taken my story she, seeing my distress, did not leave me until she had me in a hotel by the airport where I could fly out next morning. I stayed over a day to rest up and to alert Louise to alert the media.

When I arrived in Sea-Tac I faced the greatest battery of cameras that I had ever seen. I even had a small number of supporters which was a pleasant surprise. The family was represented by my son, Bryan, who took me home to Louise. She had stayed behind to make my homecoming homey by having supper on the table when I got there.

The ordeal was over but it would be a year before my back was mended.

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