by Doug Smith Many days in small town America tend to be a lot like the day before and not much different than the next. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, and months turn into years and things pretty much stay the same. That’s one of the blessings of small town life – it’s consistent, predictable, comfortable. Maybe that’s why when something big does happen, it’s that much more thrilling. May 19th, 2004, was one of those “big” days in our town of Linesville, PA.

To the inattentive eye, Wednesday, May 19th started out looking much like any other day in our town. Old Glory was raised in front of the post office and the fire hall. The regulars were perusing the daily edition of the Meadville Tribune as they sipped coffee and talked about the weather, politics, and ever-increasing gas prices. People passed through town on their way to work and school. But to the careful observer, there were indications that this would not be a normal day in our sleepy little town. Banners and signs were going up. The Borough Building was a buzz with activity. A palpable level of excitement hung in the heavy morning air. – Today was the day that Joe arrived.

By most measures Joe Hurley is just a regular Joe. A short, stocky man with ruffled gray hair, he looks like any other guy you might see walking down the street. But if you look closer, you see a man with an especially determined step. You notice the softball-sized calves of a man who has just walked close to 1,000 miles in 2 months.

Joe Hurley started walking in Provincetown, Massachusetts, at the tip of Cape Cod, on March 26th, 2004. His goal – to walk the 3,256 miles of the longest historic highway in the United States, U.S. Route 6. Why? To gauge the heartbeat of America at the dawn of a new century. To see for himself if America really is the cold, hard place we see on the evening news every night. Or, as he suspects, to find that there are still a lot of good people out there willing to help out their neighbors and open their doors to a stranger. A Charles Kuraltesque journey sans the RV.

His companion, Travis Lindhorst, is a 28-year-old photographer who was looking for work and joined up for the expedition via an Internet ad posted by Joe’s daughter. Travis drops Joe off in the mornings and takes off in his trusty little Geo Metro in search of great photos to go along with all the great Route 6 stories they uncover.

It’s about 8:20AM in Linesville. After a hearty breakfast and a cruise through town to check the status of all the preparations, we’re on a reconnaissance mission to Conneaut Lake to see if we can catch a glimpse of Joe and get a gauge on his progress. It will be the first of numerous trips to Conneaut Lake for the anxious Linesville crew.

We drive by Conneaut Lake High School and the Route 618 intersection where we expected Joe would be starting his day, but there are no signs of him. We continue on into town on the outside chance he might be there. We see a number of people on the sidewalks, walking here and there, getting their morning exercise in, but no Joe. Wait! That’s him! The PA Route 6 shirt and walking stick are a dead giveaway. It looks like he’s just getting started for the day. Looks like he’ll have some walking companions to get started too. We stay in the shadows and head back to town with a status report – at a pace of 3 miles per hour, it looks like Joe should be in Linesville between 10:30 and 11:00AM. The level of excitement is rising.

We swing by the Borough Building to check out the gift basket that’s been prepared. A beautiful new sign has been hung outside saying, “Welcome to Linesville, Future Home of the National U.S. Route 6 Museum”.

It was donated by a local businesswoman. Inside we are met by a basket overflowing with every gift and goodie you could imagine. T-shirts, hats, homemade cookies, fudge, honey, certificates for free meals, candy bars with personalized wrappers showing the old trolley line that ran through town, even laundry soap and rolls of quarters so Joe and Travis can do some wash while they’re in town. Apparently there still are some good people out there, and it looks like they’ve thought of just about everything.

Time for another trip to Conneaut Lake. Joe and his walking partners are making good progress. They’ve almost made it to the old Black’s Furniture site. Looks like they’re right on the 3mph pace. If only the sun might pop out and brighten things up a little bit.

On the way back to Linesville, we notice John and Emma Lou Zeigler sitting in their car at the little church in Shermansville. Looks like a few folks may turn out to show support after all. Sure would be nice to have a good turnout. I hope we’ve done enough to get the word out.

I guess it’s about 9:30AM now. I don’t know for sure. I’m on vacation and I try not to wear a watch when I’m on vacation. I’ve probably asked everyone what time it is about ten times, but I seem to forget what they say before I even hear the reply. It doesn’t really matter at this point anyway – I’m sitting right here until Joe arrives.

We set up our lawn chairs where Route 6 makes a hard left turn at Al’s Melons produce stand just on the outskirts of town. I try reading a book, but six months of built up anticipation makes it hard to concentrate. I notice that we’re starting to gather a bit of a crowd. By one’s and two’s people are stopping by waiting for the big arrival.

The fire trucks are here now. They will escort us into town, but there’s a big structure fire in Andover, so they may have to leave at any minute. The sun is coming out. Looks like it may turn out to be a nice day after all.

We get unsolicited reports from every westbound car that comes by…”he just made it to Shermansville”…”he’s coming through Zickefoose's Curve”…”he just passed Dave Ray’s house”…”he’s about a mile away”. How do all these people know what’s going on? Do that many people read the Meadville Tribune? I guess that’s another blessing of small town living – word travels fast.

One of the ladies that’s with us, she’s up from Georgia visiting some friends and heard about Joe’s walk and decided to join in, decides she’s not going to wait. She walks about a mile-and-a-half out to meet him. I’d do the same thing, but I’m planning on walking from Linesville to the Ohio line and my confidence in being able to make it that far is limited, so I’m conserving my energy. (She walked the mile-and-a-half back to our spot and continued on to the Ohio line for a total of about 12 miles. Boy do I feel like a wimp.)

Joanne and the boys are here now. I’m going to pull the boys for a little way in their red wagon – if they’ll sit still long enough. They’re getting pretty impatient. So is their Dad.

Here comes Joe! I can see people coming off their porches to greet him as he comes closer. I can also see that the two ladies from Conneaut Lake are still with him. I hope I can make it as far as they did.

Now he’s here! There must be a crowd of 30 or 40 people gathered around. What a great way to welcome him to town! I’m glad people showed up. I would have felt pretty bad if it was only 2 or 3 of us.

I kind of hang back in the back of the crowd. I feel really good that I had something to do with making this happen, but it really wasn’t all that much. I just helped generate the spark and the fire took off from there. I figure I’ll just hang back till the crowd dies down and then maybe I’ll have a chance to talk to Joe.

My Dad introduces himself to Joe and calls me up through the crowd to meet him. It’s nice to finally get to shake his hand. I admire what he’s doing. I have a feeling that although we’re almost 30 years apart in age, we’re very similar. He seems to be a little uncomfortable with all this attention – I would be too.

With a little coaxing, the crowd finally starts moving little by little. We didn’t know it then, but Joe wouldn’t quite make his 20-mile goal today. This little reception was just the tip of the iceberg.

As we begin walking toward town, I notice that people are starting to come out to the road. Employees from MFG are out. There are folks in front of the grocery store, the new Dollar General, the church, the insurance agency. This is really cool! The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful day, and we’re in the middle of a parade!

Little old ladies come out on their porches to say hello to Joe. Many of them can’t make it out to the sidewalk, so he takes the extra steps up the porch to shake their hands or give them a little hug. You would think a man who has so far to go would want to conserve every step, but not Joe. This is why he’s here, to meet the people, to soak up small town America.

As we get closer to town there seems to be a growing crescendo up ahead. It’s coming from the school. The schools have let some of the kids come out to meet Joe and cheer him on. It seems like there are hundreds of them! They are cheering and chanting like Joe is a rock star. It seems a little odd that kids would show so much enthusiasm for a 59-year old newspaper reporter from Connecticut, but when you think about it, that’s the way it ought to be. I would rather have my kids admire a man like this, an honest, upstanding guy who has the conviction to chase his dreams, than some rock star or baseball player.

I look back and see my two little boys in the wagon behind me. They don’t know what to think of all this hoopla. It brings tears to my eyes. They may not remember it, but when Joe’s done walking his 3,256 miles, these two little boys could be the only 1-year old and 3-year old in the country who can say that they “walked” a couple miles with him. I hope we can continue to expose our children to things like this. They can’t help but grow up to be better people for it.

The response is unbelievable. Could all these people be from Linesville? It seems like everyone in town is out along the sidewalks and on their front porches to meet Joe. He seems a little overwhelmed by the whole thing. I get the sense that he’s uncomfortable with all of the attention. After all, the way he sees it, the walk is not about him, it’s about all of these people that have come out to meet him. They are proving his hypothesis that there are still good people out there and that small town America is still alive and well.

The crowds eventually die down and Joe has a chance to catch up with Travis and have some lunch. The day care center in town had been collecting “Pennies for Petrol” for Travis and bequeaths him with a whole bucket of pennies, along with some gas cards, to help out along the way.

A few of the restaurants in town, it’s a small town so “a few” is virtually all them, were nice enough to offer Joe and Travis free meals and drinks during their 2-day stay. So what does a guy who can have anything on the menu order for lunch? A grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of milk. Don’t want anything too heavy slowing you down.

It was at lunch that I began to get a sense of the operation behind The Walk and how much work was actually involved. I had pictured Joe and Travis lounging around in the evenings, drinking a few beers, and listening to stories from some of the old codgers in town. I soon found out that there was no time for the weary. Beyond the 20-mile-a-day walks, there are logistics to coordinate, stories to write, newspapers to contact, supplies to order,… It’s kind of a shame actually, but they really don’t get a whole lot of time to just relax and soak in the surroundings.

After lunch, we took Joe and Travis down so they could feed the fish – after all, that’s what Linesville’s known for. (The Spillway isn’t right on Route 6, so we rode in the van. Conserving steps is a priority sometimes.) The lady from Georgia went with us – after all, she was a visitor here too and wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Well, anyone who’s ever been to the Spillway generally has one of two reactions – it’s either the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen or it’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever seen. For many it’s the most fascinatingly disgusting thing they’ve ever seen.

This is where I saw Joe and Travis the most in their element. Joe turned into a reporter rather than a rock star, and Travis started snapping pictures from any angle he could get at. We had told them that people come from all over to see the Spillway and feed the fish, and sure enough, the first person Joe talked to turned out to be from Charleston, South Carolina. Instead of us quizzing him about his walk, he quizzed us about what we thought of the Spillway. As could be expected, reactions ranged from “great” to “gross”. I couldn’t help but wonder what Joe might write about the Spillway. I wonder what he thought of it?

Well, we couldn’t spend too much time loafing. After all, Joe was only about half-way to his daily goal. We drove back to town and met Juanita Hampton and Morris Waid at the Dairy Isle, where we grabbed some ice cream before we headed out. There were about 6 of us in the group, and it was getting downright hot by this time. I noticed Joe was the only one putting on sunscreen. He had learned something along his journey that the rest of us had not.

For the next 3 hours or so we walked and talked. We told Joe little stories about some of the places we passed, and he answered our questions about some of the places he’d seen along the way. We met more people. One lady brought Joe homemade cookies that she had baked that morning. Most folks would pass him a dollar or two, or twenty, when they shook his hand. He told me that it’s a very humbling experience to accept money from total strangers. Your first reaction is to say “no thanks, I’m fine, I don’t need it”. But he does need it, and people don’t mind sharing. It’s inspiring to see so many people willing to give of themselves to help someone out. Joe is doing the same thing for them. He is giving 3,256 miles of himself for these people and they will follow his travels every step of the way.

We met some folks who had written chalk messages for Joe in the middle of Route 6. (The traffic in this area allows you to do things like that.) The grandfather of the family was in a wheelchair on the porch and couldn’t make it to the road, so of course, Joe walked the 50 yards or so extra to go see him. The folks at the next house had a mailbox full of Gatorade, apples, and other treats for the group. One lady just sat on her front porch and waved and video taped the group as we walked by.

Around 4:30PM we approached the Pennsylvania/Ohio line. This is as far as we would go for today. For those of us who aren’t used to walking 9 or 10 miles a day, our feet were tired and we were ready to stop, but at the same time, it was kind of sad to see it ending. Tomorrow we’ll be back at our jobs and our normal lives and this wonderful whirlwind we call Joe will be on to the next town and the adventures that await down the road.

Once we were done with all the photos at the state line, Joe and Travis hopped in the van and we drove the 3 miles to the intended destination for the day. Joe wanted to make sure there wasn’t anyone out by the road waiting to meet him who would be disappointed if he didn’t show. You could tell that he was scouting the terrain ahead as well. All of the commotion of the day had put him behind schedule, which could jeopardize the planning in place for coming weeks. There really is no rest for the weary.

I only had a few minutes to actually talk to Joe one-on-one, and when I did, I sensed that he himself still wasn’t convinced that he could make it. He’s come through 5 states, almost 1,000 miles, but the task ahead is still monumental. The Rockies weighed heavy on his mind. I thought to myself that that’s probably a big reason why all of the attention makes him a little uncomfortable – because every handshake and every hug is an added expectation from someone he doesn’t want to let down. I think part of it must also be that as a reporter you’re taught to be an objective observer and not to interject yourself into the story. That’s pretty tough to do when you’re the center of attention in every town you walk into. But The Walk is about him as much as it is about us. It shows that one man can change the world. That one man, following his convictions, can bring something to people that they otherwise wouldn’t have – hope. Envision Linesville was founded on those same principles.

After meeting Joe and getting to spend a day walking and talking with him, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll make it to Long Beach. I’d sure like to be there to greet him when he does.