The next stop was Grand Canyon. They soon learned that the word "grand" is really too small a word to describe this natural wonder, and Father loved its magnificence: the many shades of color as the sun danced upon its cliffs, the river snaking its way through the bottom in its everlasting task of carving the canyon even deeper, the overpowering depth and breadth and length. God's handiwork was beyond words.

The group of seven proceeded east through Arizona and into New Mexico, where they drove past, and sometimes over, its dry flat mesas. After blessing ground in Albuquerque, they went over to the city hall to get some earth and a rock to take back to Korea.

"Everything is concrete here," they soon noticed. "There's not even one loose pebble we can take."

After searching awhile, Father walked over to the building itself and pointed to one of its corners. Mrs. Choi explained, "He suggests chipping off a piece of concrete from the corner and using that in place of a pebble." They got out their tire iron and quickly whacked off a piece.

"Here's some dirt stuck in the cracks of the sidewalk," someone offered. "Would that do for dirt?" They dug it out and quickly went on their way.

In many states there were no members, and the travelers were on their own to find a park or mountain or some other likely location for a holy ground. Sometimes, they used their map; sometimes, they asked for directions to a park. The moment the car came to a halt at the park, Father was out searching for the right spot. The others had to hustle to keep up.

One person-usually George-recorded everything with a movie camera as well as a still camera. Another-usually Gordon-wrote down instructions on how to find the holy ground. But these same men often had to participate in the ceremony, so it was impossible to do everything and still keep up with Father. The moment he was finished with the blessing ceremony, Father hurried back to the car eager to continue.

They could only shake their heads in amazement. "He doesn't walk; he speeds," they laughed. "We should have gotten in shape before we came on this trip."

Father had told them to change drivers every two hours. Once, as George was taking his turn driving, he suddenly heard a single English word from Father, "Faster." Throughout the trip they went "faster" and, strangely, they seemed to be invisible to all police patrols. As the days went by, they settled into this new lifestyle. Often, the three on the second seat carried on conversations in Korean. Sometimes, they translated a few things for the others, but more often they didn't. Mrs. Choi sometimes used the time to teach Father some English.

Miss Kim took care of the food. She bought bread and lunch meats at the grocery store and made thin dry sandwiches. "Here's your sandwich," she would say as she handed them out. One sandwich! Their growling stomachs sometimes protested, but no one said anything.

One day, after they had eaten, Father asked, "Are you still hungry?"

"Yes," chimed in all the voices at once.

"Then let's get more food," he answered with a big smile. From that point, they had more to eat.

They usually tried to get gas at Chevron gas stations, because George had a credit card. Often, Father watched intently over his shoulder or followed him into the station to see how this piece of plastic worked. Nothing like it was available in Korea.

The trip across Texas was amazingly long, broken only by the rolling tumbleweeds and scattered ranches and oil wells.

"So much unused space," Father commented again and again, with Mrs. Choi or Miss Kim translating. "In Korea every centimeter is used. Why does anyone worry about overpopulation with all this land?"

No one had the answer.

On the way to Dallas, Texas, they were given a quick lesson in just how dry and brutal the area really was. A storm brewed; but not a rain storm. It was a raging dust storm. The earth of Texas suddenly whirled up, building into thicker and higher clouds. It sifted into the car until everything was covered with grit. They could hardly see where they were going, but they kept moving anyway. It seemed like an eternity before the storm gave up. Neither snow, nor rain, nor sleet, nor hail-nor dust-would stop the progress of this heavenly mission.

Father blessed ground in Dallas. Before they left, they had to buy some more rope for the cartop carrier. As George walked out to the car he happened to look back, and there was Father following him. He wanted to come along and see the big American hardware store and watch him pay with a credit card again. Everything was new and interesting to him.

Oklahoma's red soil was a change and so were its bumpy roads, but it also had few people compared to Korea. Everywhere, there was plenty of space.

"Yes, there is a lot of room here," someone explained to Father, "but the people are generally quite poor. Ever since the dust bowl of the 30's, it has not prospered."

There was a small prospering center in Oklahoma City, however, and Philip Burley and others were ready with a very warm welcome. That evening was spent singing and sharing. Each person sang a solo for Father, and Father sang a solo for them. Holy ground was created in a park amidst the picnickers and canoers.

They crossed from Oklahoma into Kansas that day. Suddenly, someone in the car saw something interesting "Look over there! A herd of buffalo!" "So this is where they roam."

"Yes, well, years ago, there were thousands of them all over the plains, but most of them were killed. We seldom see them anymore. Of course, with all the people moving in, there wasn't really room for them to roam anymore."

A bit further, as they climbed onto the flat plains of Kansas, another change was noticed. There was snow on the ground.

"The weather will be colder for the next couple days," remarked one of the passengers.

"Well, let's hope this is all the snow we'll find on this trip," responded Gordon. "We planned the trip so that we would get to the North last, so hopefully by then the snow will be mostly gone."

"Yes, hopefully," agreed the others.

The 80 mile-per-hour Interstate 80 was a welcome relief after the potholes and narrow roads of Oklahoma, and they sped with all due haste through the flat winter fields of Kansas where corn and wheat would soon thrive. In City Park of Kansas City, Father blessed the holy ground wearing his new winter coat. It was definitely still winter there.

Missouri became a little more hilly with more trees. It was snowing, and the roads became icy. They had to slow down-but not too much-and, after some uncomfortable moments, they managed to arrive safely in St. Louis.

There, Bob and Vivien Oswald, along with another couple, welcomed them into their home.

"How did you hear about the Principle so far away from other members?" asked Mrs. Choi.

"Mary Fleming wrote a correspondence course and sent it to us," they answered.

Miss Kim added, "Approximately 12 to 15 people have taken that course and joined."

There were just two couples in St. Louis, so what an occasion this was for them. To meet any members would have been a joy, but they began by meeting Father himself!

In the midst of some cedar trees of Forest Park, the cold wind cut through their coats, and their fingers and toes soon felt frozen. Father paced off the holy ground a little faster than before. The four Missouri members were amazed to notice how completely Father focused on what he was doing.

"He wore no gloves or boots, and he didn't shiver from the cold," they reported, "and his shoes didn't even seem to get wet."