One cold day in January 1978, I decided to go to a church in Delaware to celebrate Martin Luther King’s birthday.

I arrived in Wilmington, parked my bright green VW and walked around the streets.

I heard church bells but I could not find a church. Up one street and down the next, I kept walking and listening and looking but still did not find a church.

Eventually, I decided to go home but I could not find my car.

I thought, “I know what I’ll do…I’ll walk home and it will be a peace walk in honor of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.”

I started walking on the inter-state highway and a state trooper pulled up and told me I was not allowed to walk on the inter-state.  I left the inter-state and started to follow some railroad tracks.

At one point my step-father and mother just happen to be going under a bridge and saw me.  My step-father got out of the car and yelled to me, “Your killing your mother!”

I yelled back, “I have to keep walking!”

I remember I had on my heavy winter jacket, suit, and dress shoes.

I walked about 10 miles and found a road that was familiar. I walked another 15 miles to get home.

When I got home I took off my shoes and my feet were covered with blisters.

The next day my sister and I went back to Delaware and found my car which was covered with parking fines.

You might say this was one of my manic phases.