CHAPTER 18: A KATY CHRISTMAS McBaine to St. Charles, MO; Days 208-216; Distance = 122.

4 Miles; People Met = 56 The Katy Trail is the longest rail trail in the country, converted from what was formerly known as the Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad. The entire trail of 264.6 miles runs from Clinton to St. Charles, but we hopped on at Boonville, at that point crossing over the Missouri River to the north bank for the remaining 191.8 miles. The gravel surface was used mainly as a bike path, though in December we encountered very few cyclists. We continued to encounter many redwing blackbirds as we did in Kansas, with cardinals also appearing in greater numbers. The cardinals were skittish and camera shy, at times hard to locate in the viewfinder of my camera because of thick vines and undergrowth, yet another sign that we were making our way back east. Despite the undergrowth this was still December and the predominant colors were drab gray and brown. The exceptions to this were the towering limestone cliffs that often came right up to the trail, with evergreen trees sprouting from the sides and top. Going in our direction the Katy Trail featured an imperceptible downgrade, often in sight of the Missouri River we followed downstream. We experienced some raw and cool conditions, some crisp and cold, but no blizzards or Arctic cold. We were grateful for the easy path and being spared the extremities of winter, the consolation for coming through at a drab and dark time of year. As a former railroad the path passed through numerous small towns with kiosks and restrooms replacing the stations that once were found there. We skirted the edges of farms and even people's homes. There also were a few vineyards and wineries nearby to the Katy Trail. We had learned that Missouri was the third leading wine producer in the country, and in fact helped save France's wine industry by providing a disease-resistant strain of grapes to replace theirs. The railroad tunnels on the Katy Trail provided some fun with sound effects. I typically give out a Wicked Witch of the West cackle when the opportunity arises for a good echo. Given the season, I also did a rendition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas in the first tunnel encountered near

Rocheport. Trash marred the Katy Trail, except where there were Adopt-a-Trail sections. I originally faulted Nevada and Utah for not having ATV trails as spotless as Colorado, but I since learned that Colorado was the extraordinary exception along our entire route. This despite the fact that the locals were enthused about their Katy Trail here in Missouri. This included the owners of property that the old railroad right of way bisected. The Katy Trail boosted the economy in local towns; support of the rail trail was now a no-brainer, but that is not always the case in the evolution of rail trails. On a stretch east of Herington, Kansas we could have hiked on what is now the sixth longest converted rail trail in the country, about 117 miles. The conversion was recent and, in this case, local property owners still opposed the conversion. Keep in mind that the ultimate source for land in Kansas for both the railroad and farms is the same: the national government. As we learned from our hosts the Crawfords in Great Bend the government freely doled out huge tracts of land for farming to attract settlers to that relatively barren land. The government granted right of way for railroads was done in the same spirit as doling out lots of free land to homesteaders, for the public good. The conversion now of that right of way to recreational rail trails is also for the public good, as the boost to the economy of the Katy Trail attests. Yet the resistance to the rail trail by entitled property owners was so stringent as to discourage us from going on it back in Kansas. Our support person Ky attempted to check out the rail trail but was deterred by a farmer hassling her. The farmer bullied Ky away, yelling that he would retaliate against anyone hunting on his property, though Ky has no gun and gives absolutely no appearance as a hunter. She was tempted to call his bluff, asking him to call law enforcement and have them come then and there. After all, the law would be on her side. At some point this farmer and others will be placated by the economic benefits of the rail trail, just as had occurred with the Katy Trail, but in the meantime large property owners with feelings of civilized entitlement can be belligerent.

Juxtaposed on the first day of this stretch was my one heated discussion with a libertarian, followed by our stay at the Peace UCC in Hartsburg. Both hardcore liberals and conservatives, when you flesh out who can address their concerns fully, focus on paternal over communal solutions. You would guess the libertarian to run counter to this based on the buzzwords they use. Hey! What can be more anti paternal government or corporation than a self-proclaimed free market libertarian?! Yet precisely this type of self-proclaimed libertarian tends to work for a think tank funded by multinational corporations, as paternal a social organization as one can get. The libertarian I debated with had Ron Paul signs up everywhere. He was a doer of good deeds, which is why I came to speak to him in the first place. Yet at some point I mentioned my advocacy of community was founded on a faith in humanity under natural conditions and he took exception to that. He equated his humble beginnings in Arkansas to a natural downtrodden condition of humanity, a humble, natural beginning that he left behind. He based most of his counterargument to my depiction of naturally social nomads on the brutality of the Mongols under Genghis Khan. This was not the first time I encountered such an argument. How can one stick up for our natural condition given the brutality of nomads like the Mongols, or even some of the practices of Native Americans? There are three problems with this line of thinking. First, the absolute natural condition involves attributes that few civilized communities meet. Being sedentary does not meet the natural condition of communities, nor does any concept of property that goes beyond use it or lose it. Not even Mongols or many Native American tribes fit the natural condition of early nomads. Second, the travesties of Mongols and some Native Americans are no worse than trench warfare in World War I, or the firebombing that occurred in World War II. Thus to the extent that societies we view as uncivilized commit atrocities, that makes them no more brutal than modern civilized societies. Third, there is a tendency to project the atrocities of more primitive societies to a larger scale than warranted. Mongolia has been home to nomadic tribes for thousands of years; for only a small

fraction of those years did something as atrocious as the pillaging hordes of Genghis Khan exist. Compare that with the ratio of our own years at war and fomenting revolt in foreign democracies to our total years of existence. Our civilized American society comes out the more warlike in comparing those ratios with the nomadic tribes throughout the history of Mongolia. My encounter with the libertarian was contrasted with the experience of the Peace UCC in Hartsburg later that evening. In all our travels this was one of the most vibrant churches we experienced, surpassed perhaps only by what we would encounter later in Sinking Springs, Ohio. Over one-hundred people came to Sunday services in a town with a population of only one hundred. Obviously they were drawing people from near and far. What was the attraction? Situated near the banks of the Missouri River, the town once experienced severe flooding. People flocked in to help the town and left an indelible mark on the townsfolk. The congregation at Peace UCC was determined to be of service to others just as they had been served. They may have been the most mission-oriented church we encountered, mission-oriented in the sense of helping others, paying forward the good will bestowed to them. They were a light shining even beyond Hartsburg that attracted the natural empathy filling our souls.

Hartsburg initiated the string of kindness we experienced along the Katy Trail. After I gave a talk to the youth fellowship there church member Wendy Gufstofson invited us to stay at her home. We were there at the same time that eight-year old son Daniel received a letter from the North Pole (in reality from his Dad who was away on business but let's keep that hush). That led to my interview of Daniel about how people make it to Santa's nice list. He quickly replied you have to help people, but then became stuck and repeated his same proclamation as a mantra. Out of the mouths of babes! While at Wendy's house we met her AFS student Allan from Chile. Pastor Clairnel Nervik from Peace UCC came to visit, and also ferried us one day to and from the Katy Trail to relieve Ky and help out with our support. Wendy worked her connections in broadcast media to get us a spot on the local

CBS affiliate. Cameraman Adam came out to film us at Wendy's home and then came out the next day to film us hiking on the Katy Trail on to our next destination of Tebbetts. A chat with the postmistress at Tebbetts brought to light an ongoing issue while we were on our journey, post office closings. Tebbetts possibly would lose theirs. Postmistress Rhea lamented over one of the overlooked consequences of these closings. In a period of ongoing consolidation and centralization,sometimes the post office is the only community hub left in a small town, and now these remaining hubs are disappearing as well. We spent the night of the winter solstice at the Turner Katy Trail Shelter in Tebbetts. The deceased former owner of the property used to house Katy Trail travelers and donated the property to the state in her will. There is usually a fee to stay there, but in December the Shelter was officially closed with the electricity and plumbing shut off. We cleared it with the state authorities to stay there, taking advantage of the shelter from cold and the bunk beds. While we were settling in to the shelter a knock came on the door. Jack Wendleton knew of our journey from the UCC email conference minister Jeff Whitman sent out. He had arranged for us to speak at St. Paul UCC in Hermann, and for us to stay at Joey's Birdhouse, a new B&B right on the trail in McKittrick. Joey was a member of the UCC church and her significant other Richard helped her acquire and renovate a building that doubled as her studio and a B&B. Jack could not wait for our arrival in McKittrick and took a chance that we would be staying at the Turner Shelter. He took us out to neighboring Mokane for dinner, where we caught a glimpse of the CBS news story cameraman Adam filmed earlier that morning. Patron Mike wanted to buy us beers, but with no plumbing turned on back at the Turner Shelter we determined to minimize our bladder intake. Jack's wife Pat hiked the El Camino Trail in Spain, the one featured in the movie The Way. Pat also biked the Katy Trail. In both cases hubby Jack came out to support her and occasionally travel with her. That explained his enthusiasm for meeting other long distance travelers. Jack referred to his

wife as a Kennedy Democrat, himself a Goldwater Republican. They made clear to us a strong and affectionate bond between husband and wife despite political differences. The evening after my talk at the St. Paul UCC we returned to Hermann for supper with the Wendletons. This was like a pre-Christmas dinner with spiked eggnog and long conversation into the evening. At one point the Wendletons invited us to come back for the real Christmas dinner, but we had miles to go and other plans in the works. For several days on either side of the winter solstice the skies had been overcast. I experienced the new sensation of my beard collecting water droplets, unknown to me in my younger days when I could not grown one. Yet on our day heading for Treloar the bright skies seemed to be celebrating with us the advent now of longer days. From Treloar it was a short ride with Ky to the Immanuel UCC of Holstein, with Pastor Jeanne Lischner in charge. She bid us to stay in the parsonage with her, though we had the church kitchen all to ourselves for a spaghetti dinner that Pastor Jeanne prepared. While we ate our spaghetti dinner Jeanne went over our schedule closely to determine possible contacts for us further east; she also gave us the story behind the large, commercial grade kitchen that might seem out of place for a church in a small town. Immanuel UCC used their kitchen for their main focus on mission-oriented outreach, providing affordable meals for seniors that they bused in from senior housing. To assist in their mission they welcomed teams of volunteers from different churches for different meals being offered. The next morning Jeanne joined us hiking for our first mile. Later in the day we were joined by Bill Bayer, who introduced himself with if you have a head-ache think of me. We hiked a couple miles with him along the Katy Trail; as a native to the area he served as an interpretive guide along the way. He filled us in about the large historical presence of Daniel Boone in this area. This would be the only day, besides our last, when two separate people joined us for hiking, a nice present for the day before Christmas.

We had the same apprehensions approaching Christmas that we did with Thanksgiving. How would we spend the day and how would we feel? Our Christmas prospects began to take shape the same way as most of our Missouri contacts, when a pastor responded to the email sent out by conference minister Jeff Whitman. Pastor Paul Koch from the St. Peter UCC in Washington, MO sent us an email soon after we entered Missouri welcoming us to check out their community meals program that would be serving on Christmas Eve. As more emails were sent between myself and Pastor Paul, our itinerary at St. Peter was expanded. I asked if I could sing in the choir for the Christmas Eve service and they were bold enough to grant my wish. Most significantly, Associate Pastor Leah Atkinson Bilinski invited us to spend Christmas with her and husband Jamie. She was the pastor on call for Christmas day, preventing her from visiting her own family. We both liked the idea of overcoming our common family-deprived situations together. Upon our first arrival at St. Peter UCC we attended the community meals dinner. There I was able to interview Brigid Reid regarding her role in developing that program. Five women from the Catholic Church in Washington spent a full year in prayerful discernment to determine how they might best serve others. The community meals program was the answer to their prayers but the new question became where to host one. The Catholic Church did not have the facilities, but the large St. Peter UCC church did. This foundational partnership expanded, as groups of volunteers from different churches come to help out with the community meals, much like what Pastor Jeanne's Immanuel UCC does for seniors. There are, of course, major theological differences between the Catholic Church and the UCC, but none of that matters with the common mission of serving others. Pastor Paul met us at the community meals program and mentioned how he encourages all parishioners to attend. Like in Leadville, Colorado the emphasis of this program was as much on fostering community as providing meals. Pastor Paul also showed us the St. Peter UCC food pantry. They get their food donations the usual way for most food pantries, plus one unusual way. Throughout

the church complex are Christmas trees that competing families put up. Parishioners place canned goods under the trees they like. This form of voting provides a direct mission benefit, while the decorated and gift-ladened trees provide a festive appearance throughout the church complex. I joined the choir for rehearsal just shortly before the Christmas Eve service. The music was comparable to the type of music my choir back home sings, while the choir was of similar size and quality as back home as well. I need to give props to my home choir in this, drawing from my small home town of 1600 yet matching up well with small city church choirs. I felt right at home, and was invited to stay and become a permanent member by the choir director. For the Christmas morning service, over which Pastor Leah presided, we were asked to light the Advent Wreath. As we listened to Leah's sermon, in addition to learning about her pastoral history, all three of us felt she would be a great leader for any church. After the service we met Elaine Menke and husband Kim Colter, who invited all of us over for their Christmas day family dinner. The Colter family, including daughters Nora and Hannah, are involved in a locally organized program for mission work in Honduras. Elaine also wants to get a program going where young women hike in the Grand Canyon as a step in their empowerment. This particular mission interest stems from Elaine and Kim being enthusiastic trail runners. We sat down with their extended family of siblings and cousins to a Christmas feast, with both traditional and vegetarian fare. We sat around one large table while younger folks gathered around a separate one within sight of ours. Simultaneous conversations squeezed in between passing and eating food, creating the festive energy common to this season. We may not have been with our blood family, but we were with family nonetheless. Leah and Jamie joined us for walking off our Christmas meal on a four mile stretch of the Katy Trail, from Dutzow to Matson. This enabled Missouri to become the one and only state where we never took a rest day, in contrast to Colorado where we took nineteen of them. The weather was cool but pleasant and the setting sun created an alpenglow for our walk. This made four people total in two

days joining us, a grand Christmas present indeed! But not the last. In the evening we exchanged presents at Leah's and Jamie's home. I gave our hosts my shirt, CD and book. They made a donation to a food charity in our name. The most touching presents were red neck-warmers secretly made for us by Ky, Pastor Jeanne from our previous stop, and a few of Jeanne's parishioners. When we consider the broad scope of this particular Advent season . from the first holiday decorations spotted in Great Bend, to the KristKindl Markt in Kansas City, to the humble Advent prayers in the home of Pastor Judy and Larry, to Daniel's letter from Santa in the home of the Gustofsons, to the hospitality from all the UCC churches and pastors throughout Missouri, to Christmas Eve community meals and service, to the warm festivities and company of Christmas Day . I doubt we ever will have another like it. So much for the misfortune of being away from home.

After Christmas there was one last stretch of the Katy Trail to complete, from Matson to St. Charles. I was scheduled to give a talk at the St. John UCC in St. Charles the evening after Christmas. Towards the end of that day we encountered rainy weather, but two benefactors came to our rescue. Dan passed us twice while bicycling and at the end of his ride offered to drive us the last two miles to where Ky met us. We could easily tack the two extra miles onto the next day and accepted his offer. Then Ky brought us to St. Charles, where we stayed at the Comfort Suites, compliments of St. John parishioner Bonnie. By this time rain was starting to turn into whipping sleet and snow; we were certainly glad to be so accommodated. After settling into the hotel Ky brought us over for the evening talk. Pastor Ric Zuch was our host at St. John. He immediately expressed concern for low turnout because of the weather that evening, but I thought the turnout was great. If anything I was a bit unnerved by the presence of four UCC pastors from St. Charles churches in the audience. I felt the way I did for my oral exams as a doctoral candidate.

During my presentation I referred to the two great commandments, and that our journey was about the second commandment, love thy neighbor. I recalled the experience with Pastor Jason from Larned, who was touched by the kindness of a person who did not belong to any faith community. One of the pastors in the audience, Pastor David Beebe, cited a passage from 1 John 4, emphasizing the point that how can we love God, who you can't see, if you don't love your neighbor who you can see. In other words, the second commandment for loving your neighbor is a stepping stone for the first commandment of loving God, not the other way around. This turns completely around the beliefs of the Baptist pastor we met in Colorado, the one who doubled as a border guard. I daresay believing in love of neighbor as the first step turns around many an established religion, Christian or otherwise. For that matter it turns around many an established doctrine, religious or otherwise, that looks at paternal systems to mitigate the bad in humanity. It dawned on me that this Advent stretch throughout Missouri delivered two profound lessons for the journey. One was the value of alliances such as witnessed in Grand Pass, Holstein and Washington. This is the value of putting doctrinal differences aside, while spreading ownership and increasing the likelihood of success. I added community alliances to my growing list of what makes community work, along with the previous lessons of community expectations learned in Kansas, and community oneness learned in Colorado. Now in St. Charles I also came to understand what is the most theological and/or social question of all for society. For loving God first, or representative government, or corporate economics, or any other type of paternal approach to life is warranted if we are naturally bad and need such paternal anchors to set us straight. However, if we indeed are naturally altruistic, if empathy and kindness are parts of our natural fabric, now disrupted by civilized institutions, then through a return to our connections and belonging to each other first we become better connected to that which transcends us. At this awakening point in the journey I considered we were involved in a pilgrimage more than a mission, and there was still so much more to learn.

Podcast: Wicked Witch in a Tunnel Podcast: We Wish You a Merry Christmas in a Tunnel Podcast: Peace UCC of Hartsburg Podcast: Daniel's Letter from Santa