Long ago, when I was in high school, I went on a couple of marathon-length charity fundraising walks for a soup kitchen in Los Angeles. They had been doing it for a decade by the time I ran my first March For Hunger. My first time, I ran part of the way, jogged part of the way and walked part of the way, finishing in about five hours. Not world class time, but I was proud of it. My second time, it took quite a bit longer, as I was with a group that had little interest in moving fast. Over the 25 years since then, I've thought about the March for Hunger several times, especially when Dan Jiru, the teacher who founded the march, made the news when he was named one of the ten best teachers in the U.S. So when I received the following email a few weeks ago, I was intrigued:
For the first time in St. Paul history, St. Paul is challenging all alumni and parents to walk at least ONE MORE TIME in the March For Hunger. Why should our kids have all the fun? Let's make this a reunion for alumni from all decades. Don't think you can walk very far? Can you make it as far as Olvera Street? You're qualified!
I may be in my fifth decade, out of shape, busy, and 25 years removed from my last March for Hunger, but I'm qualified. It says so right there. I signed up. My brother did, too. His last March for Hunger was about 20 years ago.
The March raises money for the Los Angeles Catholic Worker Hospitality Kitchen, a soup kitchen that caters to the Los Angeles homeless population near Skid Row. Decades ago, Marchers would rally sponsors for their walk, raising anywhere from ten cents to a couple of dollars per mile. The amount raised by each varied according to their sponsorship and the distance they made. Now, each participant pays a flat $55. After paying for T-shirts and bus transportation, Mr. Jiru hopes to net about $25,000, which is the single largest source of donor funding for the soup kitchen.
The walk begins in East Los Angeles, and it ends, 26 miles and usually 8 to 12 hours later, in Santa Monica. It takes students from the poorer neighborhoods of Los Angeles to the very wealthiest, through Mexican neighborhoods, to black neighborhoods, through seedy parts of town, and glamorous parts of town. It takes students nearly the entire length of Sunset Blvd., past Rodeo Drive and detours through a residential part of Beverly Hills before students walk Wilshire Blvd. from Century City to the beach. The route was chosen quite deliberately by Mr. Jiru, who taught religion, including courses like Social Justice, at St. Paul.
Back in the day, we were just a few hundred St. Paul students, and the event was smaller, less organized and less formal. This year, some 1,000 students walked. The St. Paul students were joined by others from Don Bosco Tech, Damien High School and Ramona Convent. There were dozens of drivers supporting them, and at least a dozen or two more volunteers along the route, giving directions, water, snacks or whatever else people needed.
Yesterday was the day. We had to get up at 5:00 a.m. to get to St. Paul High School in Santa Fe Springs in time for the pre-dawn 6:00 a.m. Mass for all Marchers. The Mass didn't actually begin until 6:20; we could have slept until 5:20 dammit. After Mass, we all headed toward the front of the school, to our assigned buses. I was going to be rolling with the alumni and parents. Sadly, the turnout for alumni and parents was meager. We didn't even fill an entire bus. Still, there were a few faces I recognized, and off we went to the starting point - Ruben F. Salazar Park, in East L.A. As usual, I took a few photos:
Bright and early, the students get ready to board the buses. The alumni rode in the back bus, which, curiously enough, left first.
There were some media folks along the way, including a photographer and writer from the Los Angeles Times who were waiting for us at the starting point. I'm not sure who this interviewer was, but that's Dan Jiru on the left giving a few quick pre-March quotes.
This is most of the alumni who walked. There were maybe 6-10 who didn't get into the photo.
We left shortly after 8:30 a.m. For the first mile or so, there is a bounce in everyone's step, and the Marchers pack the sidewalks like a herd on a migration across the Serengeti. I was just a few steps past the Times photographer when I took this photo.
Students begin traveling west on Whittier Boulevard from somewhere between Dittman and Alma. Eventually, the crowd paused to let these bemused drivers turn into the parking lot. The first thing of note the kids pass is the Odd Fellows Cemetery. After that, it is a series of passes beyond modest, security bar covered small businesses.
The students pass under the 60 Freeway to Soto, walking along streets dirtier than what any of them are accustomed to walking back home.
At Soto Street, the students head north toward Cesar E. Chavez Avenue, which begins in Monterey Park as Riggins Street before turning into Cesar Chavez and then world-famous Sunset Blvd. Along the way, we encountered many businesses with guard dogs like this one. He's probably trained to 'Sic Balls' on command.
The sidewalks along this stretch of road left a lot to be desired. We encountered similar walks later, in Beverly Hills, lined with the same concrete-busting ficus trees. However, probably due to their much greater tax base, the City of Beverly Hills did a very good job of maintaining and replacing the sidewalks when necessary, so as to avoid these tripping hazards that in some places were displaced more than half a foot. Right about here, we were offered our first ride of the day. A driver named Louie, a guy I knew from high school, who was on our state championship football team in 1981, suggested we catch a ride. "Keep driving, Louie," we told him.
After a little more than an hour of walking, we crossed over the mighty Los Angeles River.
About 10:00 a.m., we got to Olvera Street, proving that we had, indeed, been qualified. Many students had stopped along the way already for breakfast at places like McDonald's. We had not, because we knew that Philippe the Original was just two blocks away from Olvera Street. We maybe saw 6 Marchers in there while we ate breakfast.
After breakfast, we went back through Olvera Street and lingered and shopped. It being the day before the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, the place was hopping. After less than a half hour there, we departed back onto Cesar Chavez and headed west for the final 21 miles. Before the road turned into Sunset Blvd., we encountered some folks who had just finished the Los Angeles Half Marathon. Although they were probably much faster than we were, we had a much longer journey.
When you drive through the poorer parts of town, you miss the little things that betray the poverty, like all the black gum stains on the sidewalk, and trees that are held up by ladders.
And guys selling bicycles out of their vans along the side of the road. Bicycles that are probably totally not stolen at all.
We encountered a good number of homeless folks between Boyle Heights and Hollywood. I didn't take their photographs, but at this particular homeless camp, nobody was home, so I took a photo from above.
Somewhere around the beginning of Sunset Blvd., we noticed a trend. The students were hitching rides from the support team left and right. There was no particular dishonor in riding half the distance or more. Back when we walked as students, there was a huge stigma attached to catching a ride. You walked until you were about to do a faceplant, at which time you walked some more. But if you did have to give up, you caught a ride back to the beach and shamefully emerged to the disdain of your fellow students. If you weren't up to the challenge, and wanted to ride part of the way, which we called "cheating", you got a bus or taxi ride and tried to avoid detection. I walked all the way each time.
This is about as close as we got to the Hollywood sign. Right about here, a bunch of students piled out of a car and started walking along with us, initially unaware that we were on the walk as alumni. After a while, we struck up conversations. We were somewhere around the 10 mile marker at this point. We stopped at a grocery store near here and bought some Tylenol.
At Sunset and Vine, we had to cross the street because the south sidewalk was closed to us regular folks due to a red carpet premier of the new animated film The Tale of Despereaux at the Arclight Theater in Hollywood. Matthew Broderick, Dustin Hoffman and Emma Watson were among the big stars there. We walked past during the hour that included all the celebrity arrivals, but we didn't get close to any of them.
We passed by Hollywood's Rock Walk. These four sets of hands were among the best to ever handle a guitar. Some of the students got off a bus here and took a longer look than we did.
Down by the Laugh Factory, we noticed Mr. Jiru walking at a similar pace across the street. He seemed to be walking an honest walk, too.
I've always wanted to stop and eat at this traincar cafe but we weren't hungry when we passed.
Toward the end of the Hollywood stretch of Sunset, we ran into Wallace Shawn, who played, among other roles, Rex the Dinosaur in Toy Story, and Vizzini in The Princess Bride. I remembered him for lines like "Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!" and, of course, "Inconceivable!" I could not, however, recall his name. Despite this, he graciously posed for a photo with me, and wished us luck on our walk.
The last couple of miles (for us) on Sunset were grassy, clean and pleasant. We passed the Beverly Hills Hotel and then hit the check-in point at Whittier Drive.
The check-in point. It was now about 4:15 p.m., and we were starting to look like drowned rats. When you check in, they highlight a line across your name. We were the 4th and 5th alumni to get to the check-in. However, by 4:15, the vast majority of students had checked in, even though we didn't see many of them passing us. Most of them, of course, had hitched rides. At this point in the day, not a single alumnus had used wheels, but we had achieved our original goal of making it more than halfway on foot, and we decided that if either of us felt we could not go on, we would both stop and catch a ride.
I loved some of the houses along Whitter Drive. At the end of Whittier Drive, we turned south on Wilshire Blvd., and took that all the way to the beach. The rule was that you had to get to the 405 Freeway by 6:00 p.m., or they came around and collected you. We weren't sure we would make it. It started raining around dusk. Fortunately, the rain was fairly light, and lasted only about a half-hour. By the time the rain let up, it was almost 5:30 p.m., and we were in Westwood, catching some dirty looks over our USC caps, but little other attention. We did manage to make it to the 405 around 5:45 p.m. or so. By then it was very dark, so I stopped using the camera so much.
The last 6 miles were very difficult. We started getting blisters. My bad ankle and my bad knee started to really hurt, and our muscles were so sore that we were afraid to stop to eat, even though we were hungry. We assumed (and were later proven correct), that if we stopped, we would never be able to get going again. So we pressed on. Before we knew it, we were crossing numbered streets, starting with 26th street. That meant we were just 26 blocks from our destination. If the walk had been 40 miles, at this point, we would have quit but being so close to our destination, we pressed on. Our legs ached. Every street corner meant going up and down a step. By 15th street, I was getting to those curbs and wishing they had a tiny elevator to take me up those 8 inches. But they didn't. Around 6th Street, we ran into Louie again. This time, he offered water, not a ride, and encouraged us to tough it out the last 6 blocks. Finally, around 7:30 p.m., we got to Ocean Blvd. The finish line was just a few dozen yards south along Ocean Blvd.
And this was it, the finishing table. That's the Santa Monica Pier in the background. The final check-in was along the jogging path adjacent to Ocean Blvd. Back in the day, we had to walk down steps and go over PCH to the beach at the end. That was agonizing. At some point in the last 25 years, someone figured out that the final steps sucked so bad, no one felt like partying and celebrating at the beach, so they cut out the steps, replacing the distance with a walk to the south on level ground, and they moved the party back to the school, where a barbecue feast awaited us. Unfortunately, we were so sore, we skipped the BBQ and party back at the school. We're too old to party with those kids anyhow. So after the bus ride back from Santa Monica, we shuffled our feet over to the car and drove home to our wives and kids.
But we did it. We walked the full 26 miles, and we raised a hundred bucks doing it. It felt good. Our feet, legs, knees, backs and shoulders, they didn't feel so good.
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