Tuesday, August 31, 2010

When I Came to Destroy the City

Prophet Ezekiel
Dreams from the LORD 2007-2010
25 August 2010

Ezekiel 43: 3: “And it was according to the appearance of the vision which I saw, even according to the vision that I saw when I came to destroy the city: and the visions were like the vision that I saw by the river Chebar; and I fell upon my face.”

“When I came to destroy the city.”

I have read the Book of Ezekiel many times over the years, but it wasn’t until a couple of days ago that I noticed this Scripture in Ezekiel 43: 3: “When I came to destroy the city.” This is very intriguing to me. Why haven’t I noticed this before? I know that the Lord is in the details of our lives, so why did I first notice this a couple of days ago? Is the Lord trying to show me something?

If this Scripture in Ezekiel 43 had said, “The Lord told me that HE would destroy the city”, then I would say, Amen—so be it—it makes perfect sense to me as a Christian. But to say “when I came to destroy the city” is a horse of a different color.

I know that if a prophet is truly submitted to the Lord, the Lord can use his eyes, ears, mouth, body, life, circumstances and anything else to get his attention or the attention of the people that he is trying to communicate to. Example: the Lord had Isaiah walk naked throughout Egypt for three years; Isaiah’s life was a warning to Egypt (to be naked means that you are living in sin).

The Lord has had me hitchhike throughout the United States for most of fourteen years now. I have talked to a lot of people about my Christian faith, but intercession is my main work. I do believe that the deeper message is my life of obedience to the Lord: I am hitchhiking because the Lord told me to, NOT because I want to. “Not my will, but Thine be done.” So my hitchhiking IS the sermon. If I was not able to speak about Jesus, I would still be preaching the Kingdom because I am obeying the Lord.

About ten years ago, I was walking in this grove of trees back in Iowa and the Holy Spirit came upon me very powerfully and all of a sudden these words came out of my mouth: “I hate this place [that piece of property]. This place is built on sin.” The property that I was walking on was owned by a man who was very anti-Christian. Later that night, the Lord had me rebuke him for his sinful lifestyle. It was all done in the power of the Holy Ghost. After I was done rebuking him, there was perfect peace in my spirit; the burden in my spirit was lifted and I was free to leave.

The last time I hitchhiked through Las Vegas, I told the Lord that I hated that place and I asked Him not to have me hitchhike through Las Vegas again. That was in December of 2005. I haven’t seen Las Vegas since.

“When I came to destroy the city.”

Numbers 12: 6: “And he said, Hear now my words: If there be a prophet among you, I the LORD will make myself known unto him in a vision, and will speak unto him in a dream.”

Las Vegas Earthquake
California Earthquake
Jackson, Wyoming Fire
A Vision about George Washington and America
Get Out of Jackson, Wyoming!

Monday, August 30, 2010

The Cross of Christ by Watchman Nee


17 August 2010

The Normal Christian Life by Watchman Nee
Chapter 2: “The Cross of Christ”:

Page 34: “So we see that objectively the Blood deals with our sins. The Lord Jesus has borne them on the Cross for us as our Substitute and has thereby obtained for us forgiveness, justification and reconciliation. But we must now go a step further in the plan of God to understand how he deals with the sin principle in us. The Blood can wash away my sins, but it cannot wash away my ‘old man.’ It needs the Cross to crucify me. The Blood deals with the sins, but the Cross must deal with the sinner.”

Pages 35-36: “How were we constituted sinners? By Adam’s disobedience. We do not become sinners by what we have done but because of what Adam has done and has become. I speak English, but I am not thereby constituted an Englishman. I am in fact a Chinese. So chapter 3 draws our attention to what we have done—‘all have sinned’—but it is nevertheless not because we have done it that we become sinners.

“I once asked a class of children, ‘Who is a sinner?’ and their immediate reply was, ‘One who sins.’ Yes, one who sins is a sinner, but the fact that he sins is merely the evidence that he is already a sinner; it is not the cause. One who sins is a sinner, but it is equally true that one who does not sin, if he is of Adam’s race, is a sinner too, and in need of redemption. Do you follow me? There are bad sinners and there are good sinners, there are moral sinners and there are corrupt sinners, but they are all alike sinners. We sometimes think that if only we had not done certain things all would be well; but the trouble lies far deeper than in what we do: it lies in what we are. A Chinese may be born in America and be unable to speak Chinese at all, but he is a Chinese for all that, because he was born a Chinese. It is birth that counts. So I am a sinner because I am born in Adam. It is a matter not of my behavior but of my heredity, my parentage. I am not a sinner because I sin, but I sin because I come from the wrong stock. I sin because I am a sinner.

“We are apt to think that what we have done is very bad, but that we ourselves are not so bad. God is taking pains to show us that we ourselves are wrong, fundamentally wrong. The root trouble is the sinner; he must be dealt with. Our sins are dealt with by the Blood, but we ourselves are dealt with by the Cross. The Blood procures our pardon for what we have done; the Cross procures our deliverance from what we are.”

The Spiritual Man

Friday, August 20, 2010

Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky

Leo Tolstoy, 1828-1910
Dreams from the LORD 2007-2010
16 August 2010

An excerpt from The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey:

Pages 140-142: “A.N. Wilson, a biographer of Tolstoy, remarks that Tolstoy suffered from a ‘fundamental theological inability to understand the Incarnation. His religion was ultimately a thing of Law rather than of Grace, a scheme for human betterment rather than a vision of God penetrating a fallen world.’ With crystalline clarity Tolstoy could see his own inadequacy in the light of God’s Ideal. But he could not take the further step of trusting God’s grace to overcome that inadequacy.

“Shortly after reading Tolstoy I discovered his countryman Fyodor Dostoyevsky. These two, the most famous and accomplished of all Russian writers, lived and worked during the same period of history. Oddly, they never met, and perhaps it was just as well—they were opposites in every way. Where Tolstoy wrote bright, sunny novels, Dostoyevsky wrote dark and brooding ones. Where Tolstoy worked out ascetic schemes for self-improvement, Dostoyevsky periodically squandered his health and fortune on alcohol and gambling. Dostoyevsky got many things wrong, but he got one thing right: His novels communicate grace and forgiveness with a Tolstoyan force.

“Early in his life, Dostoyevsky underwent a virtual resurrection. He had been arrested for belonging to a group judged treasonous by Tsar Nicholas I, who, to impress upon the young parlor radicals the gravity of their errors, sentenced them to death and staged a mock execution. The conspirators were dressed in white death gowns and led to a public square where a firing squad awaited them. Blindfolded, robed in white burial shrouds, hands bound tightly behind them, they were paraded before a gawking crowd and then tied to posts. At the very last instant, as the order, ‘Ready, aim!’ was heard and rifles were cocked and lifted upward, a horseman galloped up with a pre-arranged message from the tsar: he would mercifully commute their sentence to hard labor.

“Dostoyevsky never recovered from this experience. He had peered into the jaws of death, and from that moment life became for him precious beyond all calculation. ‘Now my life will change,’ he said; ‘I shall be born again in a new form.’ As he boarded the convict train toward Siberia, a devout woman handed him a New Testament, the only book allowed in prison. Believing that God had given him a second chance to fulfill his calling, Dostoyevsky pored over that New Testament during his confinement. After ten years he emerged from exile with unshakeable Christian convictions, as expressed in one famous passage, ‘If anyone proved to me that Christ was outside the truth . . . then I would prefer to remain with Christ than with the truth.’

“Prison offered Dostoyevsky another opportunity as well. It forced him to live at close quarters with thieves, murderers, and drunken peasants. His shared life with these people later led to unmatched characterizations in his novels, such as that of the murderer Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment. Dostoyevsky’s liberal view of the inherent goodness in humanity shattered in collision with the granitic evil he found in his cellmates. Yet over time he also glimpsed the image of God in even the lowest of prisoners. He came to believe that only through being loved is a human being capable of love; ‘We love because he [God] first loved us,’ as the apostle John says.

“I encountered grace in the novels of Dostoyevsky. Crime and Punishment portrays a despicable human being who commits a despicable crime. Yet grace enters Raskolnikov’s life as well, through the person of the converted prostitute Sonia, who follows him all the way to Siberia and leads him to redemption. The Brothers Karamazov, perhaps the greatest novel ever written, draws a contrast between Ivan the brilliant agnostic and his devout brother Alyosha. Ivan can critique the failures of humankind and every political system devised to deal with those failures, but he can offer no solutions. Alyosha has no solutions for the intellectual problems Ivan raises, but he has a solution for humanity: love. ‘I do not know the answer to the problem of evil,’ said Alyosha, ‘but I do know love.’ Finally, in the magical novel The Idiot, Dostoyevsky presents a Christ figure in the form of an epileptic prince. Quietly, mysteriously, Prince Myshkin moves among the circles of Russia’s upper class, exposing their hypocrisy while also illuminating their lives with goodness and truth.

“Taken together, these two Russians became for me, at a crucial time in my Christian pilgrimage, spiritual directors. They helped me come to terms with a central paradox of the Christian life. From Tolstoy I learned the need to look inside, to the kingdom of God that is within me. I saw how miserably I had failed the high ideals of the gospel. But from Dostoyevsky I learned the full extent of grace. Not only the kingdom of God is within me; Christ himself dwells there. ‘Where sin increased, grace increased all the more,’ is how Paul expressed it in Romans.

“There is only one way for any of us to resolve the tension between the high ideals of the gospel and the grim reality of ourselves: to accept that we will never measure up, but that we do not have to. We are judged by the righteousness of the Christ who lives within, not our own. Tolstoy got it halfway right: anything that makes me feel comfort with God’s moral standard, anything that makes me feel, ‘At last I have arrived,’ is a cruel deception. But Dostoyevsky got the other half right: anything that makes me feel discomfort with God’s forgiving love is also a cruel deception. ‘There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus’: that message, Leo Tolstoy never fully grasped.”


Fyodor Dostoyevsky, 1821-1881


Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Prophet
A Single Story of Soviet Russia
Vintage Footage of Leo Tolstoy
Mark Taylor's Prophetic Word on Russia and the United States (10-30-16)













"Harvest" (1915) by Zinaida Serebriakova













"Neskuchnoye--Field" (1912) by Zinaida Serebriakova











"Harvest" (1910) by Zinaida Serebriakova

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Chris McCandless Revisited

Chris McCandless, 1968-1992

Dreams from the LORD 2007-2010
15 August 2010

Four days ago (11 August), I was hitchhiking in Idaho and this guy picked me up. He told me that he went to school at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia; he graduated in 1994. So I asked him about Chris McCandless (Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer) (McCandless went to school at Emory).

This guy said that he was three years behind McCandless in school. After McCandless’ body was discovered in Alaska (1992), he was in an English class (in 1993?) with a professor that had taught McCandless a few years previous. The professor had the class study some of McCandless’ papers.

This guy told the professor and the class that he thought McCandless showed a lot of hubris or suburban hubris when he tried to live in the wilderness of Alaska; he thought that McCandless was not well-prepared to live on his own. The professor and the rest of the class reacted very negatively to this guy when he used the word “hubris.” This guy ended up getting a C- in the class.

Hubris: “n. [Gk., violence] Excessive pride: ARROGANCE.”
--Webster’s II New Riverside University Dictionary

Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
The Jerry Shey Family
Back to the Wild
Few Thumbs Barred From Rides
Fairbanks Bus 142
Book Review:  High Plains Drifter
Into the Wild (2007) (Tragedy, Epiphany and Closure)
Chris McCandless on 20/20 (1997)
The Wild Truth by Carine McCandless (Amazon.com)
The Wild Truth by Carine McCandless

_____

I just discovered a couple of days ago that someone is trying to sell my manuscript (High Plains Drifter: A Hitchhiking Journey Across America) on Ebay.

I got a ride from Lolo, Montana to Orofino, Idaho on U.S. 12--I rode in the back of a pickup. I walked to the library in Orofino and googled "Tim Shey hitchhiker" just for the heck of it. One of the results was "Hitchhiking America/ Hiker Rage", so I clicked-on to it. I was surprised to see that someone was trying to sell my manuscript.

I thought it was pretty funny.

High Plains Drifter
typescript
An American Pilgrim:  Some Reflections on High Plains Drifter
The First Time I Rode a Freight Train & other hitchhiking stories
The Short, Short Hitchhiker

The Life of a Hobo  
Hitchhiking Stories from Digihitch

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Death at Ramoth-gilead


I Kings 22: 1-38: "And they continued three years without war between Syria and Israel. And it came to pass in the third year, that Jehoshaphat the king of Judah came down to the king of Israel. And the king of Israel said unto his servants, Know ye that Ramoth in Gilead is ours, and we be still, and take it not out of the hand of the king of Syria? And he said unto Jehoshaphat, Wilt thou go with me to battle to Ramoth- gilead? And Jehoshaphat said to the king of Israel, I am as thou art, my people as thy people, my horses as thy horses. And Jehoshaphat said unto the king of Israel, Enquire, I pray thee, at the word of the LORD to day. Then the king of Israel gathered the prophets together, about four hundred men, and said unto them, Shall I go against Ramoth-gilead to battle, or shall I forbear? And they said, Go up; for the Lord shall deliver it into the hand of the king. And Jehoshaphat said, Is there not here a prophet of the LORD besides, that we might enquire of him?And the king of Israel said unto Jehoshaphat, There is yet one man, Micaiah the son of Imlah, by whom we may enquire of the LORD: but I hate him; for he doth not prophesy good concerning me, but evil. And Jehoshaphat said, Let not the king say so. Then the king of Israel called an officer, and said, Hasten hither Micaiah the son of Imlah. And the king of Israel and Jehoshaphat the king of Judah sat each on his throne, having put on their robes, in a void place in the entrance of the gate of Samaria; and all the prophets prophesied before them. And Zedekiah the son of Chenaanah made him horns of iron: and he said, Thus saith the LORD, With these shalt thou push the Syrians, until thou have consumed them. And all the prophets prophesied so, saying, Go up to Ramoth-gilead, and prosper: for the LORD shall deliver it into the king’s hand. And the messenger that was gone to call Micaiah spake unto him, saying, Behold now, the words of the prophets declare good unto the king with one mouth: let thy word, I pray thee, be like the word of one of them, and speak that which is good. And Micaiah said, As the LORD liveth, what the LORD saith unto me, that will I speak.

"So he came to the king. And the king said unto him, Micaiah, shall we go against Ramoth-gilead to battle, or shall we forbear? And he answered him, Go, and prosper: for the LORD shall deliver it into the hand of the king. And the king said unto him, How many times shall I adjure thee that thou tell me nothing but that which is true in the name of the LORD? And he said, I saw all Israel scattered upon the hills, as sheep that have not a shepherd: and the LORD said, These have no master: let them return every man to his house in peace. And the king of Israel said unto Jehoshaphat, Did I not tell thee that he would prophesy no good concerning me, but evil? And he said, Hear thou therefore the word of the LORD: I saw the LORD sitting on his throne, and all the host of heaven standing by him on his right hand and on his left. And the LORD said, Who shall persuade Ahab, that he may go up and fall at Ramoth-gilead? And one said on this manner, and another said on that manner. And there came forth a spirit, and stood before the LORD, and said, I will persuade him. And the LORD said unto him, Wherewith? And he said, I will go forth, and I will be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets. And he said, Thou shalt persuade him, and prevail also: go forth, and do so. Now therefore, behold, the LORD hath put a lying spirit in the mouth of all these thy prophets, and the LORD hath spoken evil concerning thee. But Zedekiah the son of Chenaanah went near, and smote Micaiah on the cheek, and said, Which way went the Spirit of the LORD from me to speak unto thee? And Micaiah said, Behold, thou shalt see in that day, when thou shalt go into an inner chamber to hide thyself. And the king of Israel said, Take Micaiah, and carry him back unto Amon the governor of the city, and to Joash the king’s son; And say, Thus saith the king, Put this fellow in the prison, and feed him with bread of affliction and with water of affliction, until I come in peace. And Micaiah said, If thou return at all in peace, the LORD hath not spoken by me. And he said, Hearken, O people, every one of you. So the king of Israel and Jehoshaphat the king of Judah went up to Ramoth-gilead. And the king of Israel said unto Jehoshaphat, I will disguise myself, and enter into the battle; but put thou on thy robes. And the king of Israel disguised himself, and went into the battle. But the king of Syria commanded his thirty and two captains that had rule over his chariots, saying, Fight neither with small nor great, save only with the king of Israel. And it came to pass, when the captains of the chariots saw Jehoshaphat, that they said, Surely it is the king of Israel. And they turned aside to fight against him: and Jehoshaphat cried out. And it came to pass, when the captains of the chariots perceived that it was not the king of Israel, that they turned back from pursuing him. And a certain man drew a bow at a venture, and smote the king of Israel between the joints of the harness: wherefore he said unto the driver of his chariot, Turn thine hand, and carry me out of the host; for I am wounded. And the battle increased that day: and the king was stayed up in his chariot against the Syrians, and died at even: and the blood ran out of the wound into the midst of the chariot. And there went a proclamation throughout the host about the going down of the sun, saying, Every man to his city, and every man to his own country.

"So the king died, and was brought to Samaria; and they buried the king in Samaria. And one washed the chariot in the pool of Samaria; and the dogs licked up his blood; and they washed his armour; according unto the word of the LORD which he spake."

The preceding Scriptures describe the sinful condition of the United States in 2010. There is definitely an Ahab spirit and a Jezebel spirit at work in this country that are opposing the works of God or the anointing of the Holy Ghost (Elijah). An Ahab spirit is a weak man; a Jezebel spirit is a domineering woman. The Lord created man to be masculine and woman to be feminine and the woman to be submissive to the man. Satan loves to pervert and corrupt what God has created. This sinful condition is leading to God's wrath--not unlike King Ahab's death at Ramoth-gilead where "the dogs licked up his blood."

According to Scripture, the life is in the blood. Leviticus 17: 11: "For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul."

Ahab was so sinful, he was lower than a dog.

Sin entered the Garden of Eden and the human race because Adam was passive.

Judges 6: 1: "And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the LORD: and the LORD delivered them into the hand of Midian seven years."

Psalm 60: 1-3: "O God, thou hast cast us off, thou hast scattered us, thou hast been displeased; O turn thyself to us again.  Thou hast made the earth to tremble; thou hast broken it: heal the breaches thereof; for it shaketh.  Thou hast shewed thy people hard things: thou hast made us to drink the wine of astonishment."

_____

"Much to cast down, much to build, much to restore
I have given you the power of choice, and you only alternate
Between futile speculation and unconsidered action.

"And the wind shall say: 'Here were decent godless people:
Their only monument the asphalt road
And a thousand lost golf balls.'"

"What have we to do but stand with empty hands and palms turned
upwards in an age which advances progressively backwards?

"There came one who spoke of the shame of Jerusalem
And the holy places defiled;
Peter the Hermit, scourging with words.
And among his hearers were a few good men,
Many who were evil,
And most who were neither,
Like all men in all places."

--T.S. Eliot

A Revolutionary People at War
Bereshith

Monday, August 2, 2010

On a Ranch near Ennis, Montana



This is a story of my staying on a ranch for a couple of nights in southwest Montana.

This past week I was hitchhiking in Montana and I ended up in Ennis. I went to the library and typed up some stuff on my Digihitch blog and then I walked to the Exxon gas station.

I was inside the convenience store buying something to eat, when this older man walked up to me and asked, "Are you the traveler? Is that your backpack out front?"

I said, "Yeah."

His name was Arthur and he said that he had done some hitchhiking in his younger days. He was originally from San Diego and did a lot of surfing at one time. Arthur used to hitchhike with a guitar. He asked me if I needed a place to stay for a while. He told me he needed some work done on his ranch and that he had a bad back; he had been in a real serious car crash years ago.

So I told him that that would be great and that I would like to work for him. I grabbed my backpack and we drove around six miles to his ranch. He had a housemate named Hal who had lived there for five years; Hal was married and divorced and pretty much retired. Arthur used to be a miner years ago.

I fed the horses hay and grain while I was there. Arthur and I hauled some garbage to the local dump and we did a lot of cleaning up of some trash in the house and rearranging some boxes for storage.

I ended up staying two nights and then hit the road. I hitchhiked south and made it to Driggs, Idaho where I met up with a friend. I stayed at he and his wife's place in Drummond last night.

Yesterday, I checked my email and Arthur sent me a very kind and thoughtful note; here it is below:

(20 December 2009)

"Hello Saw man we are glad in the lord and holy power for leading you to us. We are very much lovers of good men who follow the path in life that few dare to seek, I find in you the good warm energy that god has bestowed upon you, follow your path no one else can, and remember us in your prayers we shall forever be in your kindness and have no regrets for the time you and we shared with you. Be always welcome in our tee pee. We enjoyed you and the god & man energy to shared with us. Have a safe and full filled life and some day return to us that we may share what god has given us to share with his chosen few. you are special in our hearts and minds so be good to yourself and we will not judge you but find in you faith to carry on and struggle with our human condition and remain thankfull to god first and the life of mammon second.
your friends Arthur And Harold.
ps glad you liked my cooking. pax goldbear"

["Sawman" was my nickname when I was working at Hanson Lumber Company in Ames, Iowa.  "Sawman" is also my username on Digihitch.com.]

_____

"No man has hired us
With pocketed hands
And lowered faces
We stand about in open places
And shiver in unlit rooms.
Only the wind moves
Over empty fields, untilled
Where the plough rests at an angle
To the furrow. In this land
There shall be one cigarette to two men,
To two women one half pint of bitter
Ale. In this land
No man has hired us.
Our life is unwelcome, our death
Unmentioned in 'The Times.'"

"When the Stranger says: 'What is the meaning of this city?
Do you huddle close together because you love each other?'
What will you answer? 'We all dwell together
To make money from each other'? or 'This is a community'?
And the Stranger will depart and return to the desert.
O my soul, be prepared for the coming of the Stranger,
Be prepared for him who knows how to ask questions."

"Remember the faith that took men from home
At the call of a wandering preacher."

--T.S. Eliot
"Choruses from 'The Rock'"

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]

More Montana Posts
Hitchhiking Stories from Digihitch

My First Time in Jail for Hitchhiking



This is an account of my being arrested and put in jail for a short time in Riverton, Wyoming [September 2009]. I had failed to pay a fine ($60.00) or appear in court for a hitchhiking violation.

A couple of days ago, I hitchhiked from Jackson to Riverton, Wyoming. My last ride to Riverton was with this lady who sold Avon products. We had a nice talk. She said that she wanted to take me out to eat, so we had a buffet at a Chinese restaurant in Riverton. After the restaurant, she drove me to the south side of town near an industrial area. I thanked her and took my backpack and walked down this foot path. After about two hundred yards, I veered off the foot path and walked across this open ground to this place overlooking the Wind River. I set up my tent and bedded down for the night (or so I thought). It was around 9 PM.

A short while later, I heard this car driving around maybe a hundred yards north of my tent. I looked out of my tent and saw this car drive very fast in and then out of this gravel driveway.

Maybe fifteen minutes later I heard this other car drive down the same road. I looked out and saw the car turn and shine its headlights on my tent. The car approached my campsite and I got out of the tent to see what was going on.

The car stopped and a man and woman in uniform walked towards me. They were with the Riverton Police. They told me they were looking for some kids that were trying to break into a car in a housing subdivision just north of where I was camped. They thought that the kids may have been from the reservation (Wind River Reservation--made up of Arapahoe and Shoshoni Tribes) just across the river.

They asked me what I was doing and I told them that I was hitchhiking and had camped out for the night. They told me that there are a lot of violent crimes on the reservation; there were twenty-eight murders so far this year--probably alcohol and meth-related. I told them that I had camped here earlier this summer and that I was planning on hitting the road the next morning.

The lady police officer asked what my name was and she ran a check on me through the police department; I also gave them my driver's license. We talked for a little while longer and then she said that I had a Bench Warrant for my arrest and that I needed to pay sixty dollars or else go to jail. It was from a hitchhiking ticket I got back in February of 2009: I had failed to pay the fine or appear in court.

I walked back to my tent and looked in my billfold and told them that I had fifty bucks. She said that they needed sixty. Looked like I was going to jail.

They let me put on my pants and shoes and I took a few valuables with me. I was patted down for any weapons. They had me stand with my hands behind my back as they put these handcuffs on my wrists. They led me back to the police car and had me sit in the back seat. The handcuffs were very tight and uncomfortable.

On the way to the police station, they asked me if I knew anyone in Riverton that I could contact to help pay the remaining ten bucks. I gave them a name of a friend who had picked me up hitchhiking a couple of months ago.

We pulled into the garage at the police station. They led me to a large room with a table and sink. They had me empty my pockets and take off my shoes and sweatshirt. Then they led me into this small adjoining room and locked the door behind me. This room had a concrete bench to sit or sleep on; it had a sink and a toilet. It was probably ten foot by ten foot. I sat there for at least half an hour.

Then someone unlocked the steel door and they told me to come out. They said that my friend had arrived with the ten bucks. I put my sweatshirt and shoes back on and walked to this other room where my friend and his son were waiting. I paid my fine and walked out a free man.

My friend drove me to my campsite where I broke down my tent and put all of my gear in his pickup. We drove to his house and he let me sleep in his camper that night. I was very grateful that he helped me out with the ten bucks and for a place to stay for the night.

The police were friendly, courteous and professional; I was in jail for a very short time; I have no complaints there. I asked the police how long it had been illegal to hitchhike in Wyoming; they didn't know. I would really like to know WHY it is illegal to hitchhike in Wyoming.

__________

Copy of Bench Warrant (Filed Mar 19 2009):

In The Circuit Court of The Ninth Judicial District
Fremont County, Wyoming

State of Wyoming, Plaintiff

VS.

Timothy M. Shey, Defendant

TO: ANY PEACE OFFICER IN THE STATE OF WYOMING: GREETINGS:

WHEREAS THE DEFENDANT, has done the following according to the Court record, more specifically set forth as follows:

Failure to Appear as ordered on 2/18/09

YOU ARE HEREBY COMMANDED to arrest the above-named defendant and bring him/her forthwith before this court to be dealt with according to law.

Bond: $60.00 [ ] Cash-- Must be posted before release from Custody.

[ ] Bond may be forfeited in lieu of appearance. The defendant may appear before this Court at 1:30 pm on Wed following his or her release.

Dated 3/18/09

Original Violation(s): 1)31-5-606 a SOLICIT ON STREETS & HWYS

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]

Wyoming Bill Would Legalize Hitchhiking
Why is Hitchhiking Illegal in Wyoming? 
Hitchhiking Stories from Digihitch
Sitting in Jail in Broadus, Montana

Washing Dishes


A year or two ago I was hitchhiking across the Navajo Indian Reservation in northeast Arizona and I got a couple of rides to Flagstaff. It was during the winter and it was going to get cold that night (maybe around 0 degrees F), so I stayed at a Christian mission in downtown Flagstaff.

They have a well-run mission there. After 5 PM, one of the leaders would give a Gospel message and then we would have supper. After supper, we would shower and then go to bed. They have a dorm room upstairs; I believe they have beds for twenty men.

So the next morning we were eating our breakfast and one of the leaders asked everybody, "So who wants to volunteer to wash dishes?"

Immediately, I raised my right hand and said that I could wash the dishes. The leader smiled at me, walked over to me and patted me on the back.

Then the leader asked, "Who wants to help Tim wash the dishes?"

Nobody raised their hand.

The leader looked at this guy and asked, "Hey, Hank, why don't you help Tim wash the dishes."

Hank replied with a look of disgust, "Now that is not a Christ-like thing to say." Which meant he didn't want to wash the dishes.

So the leader said, "Well, Hank, if you don't want to wash the dishes then go back outside." And Hank left the mission.

I just about couldn't believe what I had heard. Washing the dishes is a very simple, easy job. And your hands get cleaned in the process. Hank got a free meal and couldn't wash the dishes. Ingratitude comes in different wrappers.

I was very grateful that that Christian mission let me stay there out of the cold for one night. They preached a good message the evening before, I had a great supper, I was able to take a shower and sleep in a warm bed and then have an excellent breakfast the next morning. If someone wants me to wash the dishes, then I'll wash dishes till the cows come home!

Once I was hitchhiking through Pennsylvania and this guy picked me up. He had a used auto dealership and asked me if I wanted to help drive a car from one town to the next. I said, no problem. Then he said, let's go to this mission and get some lunch. He usually recruited guys from that mission to drive cars for him.

So we signed in at this mission--I believe it was in York, Pennsylvania. I was the last guy in line and the guy ahead of me was definitely a street person. He had a real bad attitude. He kept complaining about the food: "I don't like this crap. Why do I have eat this junk? Don't you guys know how to cook a meal?" And words to that effect.

So I went through the line and thanked everyone for the great meal and smiled at everyone. Redemption sometimes happens in soup lines.

That street person didn't pay for his meal, didn't prepare it, didn't volunteer to help in anyway, but he sure complained to everyone there about the food. Then go outside and eat grass!

Nobody there asked me to help wash the dishes, so I hung out with the used auto guy for a while and then moseyed out west on U.S 30.

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]

The Only Time Someone Pulled a Knife on Me


Back in the late 1990s, I was hitchhiking through Cloudcroft, New Mexico and this pickup pulled over to give me a ride. There were two men in the front seat and they told me to hop in the back of the pickup. I noticed the eyes of the passenger: they looked crazy--like he was on drugs or something.

So I hopped in the back and they drove me to the next town to a trailer park. I hopped out of the pickup and began talking with the driver. He was a nice guy and we had a friendly chat.

Then I noticed that the passenger walked around to my right and began walking towards me. He then whipped out this knife (or a tool with a blade on it) and he lunged at me.

I quickly jumped back and said, "All right, are you guys trying to rob me or what?"

The driver of the pickup exclaimed, "No! This guy is an idiot! Throw down that knife, you idiot!"

The passenger threw down his knife.

The driver felt bad that his friend had pulled a knife on me and asked, "Hey, can I make you some lunch." He pointed towards his trailer home.

"I think I better mosey on down the road," I replied. I thought maybe they might be leading me into a bigger ambush.

"Come on inside and let me introduce you to my two daughters," he said, as he walked to the trailer.

So I followed him inside and met his two daughters; they were around eleven and twelve years old. He asked me again if he could make me some lunch. I declined the offer.

Then he noticed my baseball cap which had "Harold Pike Construction Company" written on it. "Hey, can I have your cap?" he asked.

"No problem," I answered. We exchanged caps. His cap had "Indiana University" written on it.

He asked again if he could make me some lunch. I said, no, that I better hit the road. He gave me a few bucks. He told me that his name was Apache; he also gave me a Gideon's New Testament. As I walked out the door of the trailer, the guy who pulled the knife on me gave me a dollar bill and I shook his hand.

"No weapon formed against thee shall prosper."

Psalm 146: 9: "The LORD preserveth the strangers; he relieveth the fatherless and the widows: but the way of the wicked he turneth upside down."

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]

Kai the Hero Hitchhiker

Meeting a Former Editor from Warner Brothers

This story is a conversation between a hitchhiker and a former editor from Warner Brothers. The editor did some work on the film High Plains Drifter.

It was probably the spring of 1997. I hitchhiked north on U.S. 395 from southern California and got dropped off in Bishop. Bishop is a very beautiful place.

The mountains to the east were dry and brown, the mountains to the west (Sierra Nevadas) were rugged and snow-covered. There are a lot of irrigated ranches in that valley. I walked through Bishop for a couple of miles and then stopped north of town on U.S. 395. I waited for a short while and this vehicle pulled over to pick me up.

The guy who gave me a ride was probably in his late fifties or early sixties. He told me that he was coming from a ranch that he owned in Mexico; he was heading to Mammoth Lakes where he owned a grocery store. I told him that I was hitchhiking around the country for a short while; I had just quit my job at Harold Pike Construction Company in Ames, Iowa (Pike Construction hired me ten times in four years, I was grateful that they let me work for them so many times).

"So what did you do before you bought your ranch?" I asked.

"I worked for Warner Brothers as an editor," he replied. "I worked at Warner Bothers for a number of years and got tired of being in the studio."

"So what films did you work on?" I asked.

"One film I worked on was High Plains Drifter," he said.

I looked at him and exclaimed, "No way! High Plains Drifter? That is one of my favorite westerns. You are not going to believe this, but in 1995 I had a short story published by Ethos magazine. The title of my short story is 'High Plains Drifter.'"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

At the time, I had a few copies of my short story in a folder in my backpack. I would pass out my story to people if they were interested in reading it.

"When you drop me off, I will give you a copy of my short story," I said.

"Sounds good."

We drove north on U.S. 395. At Lake Crowley he turned off the road and dropped me off at this intersection. I dug out my folder that was in my backpack and gave him a copy of "High Plains Drifter."

"Thanks," he said.

"Thanks for the ride."

He drove off and I started walking up U.S. 395. I walked for a short while. The sun was down and I needed to find a place to sleep. I jumped over this fence and walked out into this sagebrush maybe a quarter of a mile from Lake Crowley. I rolled out my sleeping bag and slept there. I think it got down in the upper 20s F that night.

About my meeting the guy who gave me a ride from Bishop to Lake Crowley: there are no accidents in the Kingdom of Heaven. Things happen for a reason.

The next day I hitchhiked north to Reno.

[The film High Plains Drifter, starring Clint Eastwood, was made at Mono Lake near Lee Vining, California in 1973. Lee Vining is on U.S. 395 between June Lake and Bridgeport.]

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]

High Plains Drifter (short story)
Clint Eastwood's film High Plains Drifter (1973)



A Christmas Story or Junked Cars Can Be Beautiful



Hitchhiking on Christmas Day from Montana to Idaho.

Dreams from the LORD 2003-2006
25 December 2006

I hitchhiked from Bozeman to Big Sky [Montana] yesterday afternoon. When I got to Big Sky it was 4:30 P.M. I walked south a few miles and soon it was nightfall.

I walked past this restaurant/bar and saw this junked car to my right. I walked up the slope to the car and it was covered with snow. I crawled inside the back and rearranged some things that were stored in it so that I could make room for me and my sleeping bag. Well, somebody who worked at the restaurant/bar saw me and told me to get out of the car; he said that I would freeze to death--it was too cold. So I rearranged what I had rearranged in the back seat of the car, hefted up my backpack onto my shoulders and made my way south down the moonlit highway towards West Yellowstone. I was complaining a little bit: I didn't know why I had to hitchhike at night in the dead of winter in a snow-covered canyon. I knew that I was there for a reason, so I wasn't worried or all bent out of shape about the whole situation: I knew that the Lord would not leave me stranded forty miles from nowhere when it was that cold.

Eventually, I did get a ride with a guy who was going all the way to Idaho Falls. He was driving a pickup and had his two dogs sitting in the cab with him. I was very grateful that he picked me up. The road was pretty icy going towards West Yellowstone. We got to West around 8 P.M. It was 10 degrees F. We stopped at a gas station and I kicked him down five bucks for gas and I got a hot chocolate and corn chips for the road. We continued south and the roads were still snowy and icy till we got south of Last Chance/Island Park.

As we drove through Island Park, he told me that some local Nazis burned down his log cabin (he used to live in Island Park) because he didn't subscribe to their philosophy. So now he lived up in the Bridger Bowl area north of Bozeman; he built log cabins for a living. In my experience, there are areas in Idaho that have a lot of Nazi/white supremacist/anti-government types. I don't like big government, but the Lord gave us human government for a reason. There are good people and bad people in government. I definitely don't like the Nazi/white supremacist mentality. Nazism is satanic.

This guy dropped me off at the Sugar City exit and I found a camper near a construction site to sleep in. There were two or three blankets in the camper, so I was able to stay warm last night. My sleeping bag is good to around freezing, that is why when it is cold I am always looking for a haystack or a cornstalk stack or a vehicle or a building to sleep in--added protection from the bitter weather.

When Jesus was born over two thousand years ago, He was the greatest gift that God ever gave this broken, sin-sick world. There was no room at the inn, so Jesus was born in a manger in a pile of hay or straw. Wrapped in swaddling clothes. Lying in a manger because there was no room at the inn. No room at the inn. In the world system, the Kingdom of Heaven has no room at the inn. Sometimes there is room in the back seat of a junked car. Junked cars can be beautiful.

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]

Harry Truman, Hoboes and the Santa Fe Railroad


Harry S Truman (1884-1972) was the 33rd president of the United States. Below is an excerpt from Plain Speaking: An Oral Biography of Harry S Truman by Merle Miller.

Pages 41-43:

[Merle Miller] Mr. President, I understand that when you were still a boy, you got a job working as timekeeper for the Santa Fe Railroad.

[President Truman] "I worked for an old fellow named Smith, L.J. Smith his name was, and he was head of the construction company that was building the double track for the Santa Fe Railroad down here from Eaton Falls to where the Missouri Pacific comes into the Santa Fe down at Sheffield.

"I was eighteen years old, and I'd just finished high school and knew I wasn't going to get to go to West Point. So I took this job as a timekeeper. I took it to help out at home, to keep my brother, Vivian, and my sister, Mary, in school. My father was having a hard time with finances just then.

"Old man Smith had three camps, and there were about a hundred hoboes in each camp, and I got very well acquainted with them. My job was to keep tabs on them, to keep track of how much time they put in, and then I'd write out their paychecks for them. I'd usually write those checks in a saloon called Pogunpo's or in old man Schmidt's saloon in Sheffield. I used to sit there and pay off those hoboes. And they weren't bad fellows. They'd work for two weeks. They'd get discounted if they drew their checks before that time. So they'd work two weeks, and then they'd spend all their money for whiskey in the saloon and come back to work the next Monday morning. I'd pay them off on Saturday night.

"But they weren't bad fellows. Not in any way. Most of them had backgrounds that caused them to be hoboes. Either they'd had family troubles or they'd been in jail for some damn fool thing that wasn't a penitentiary offense. But they weren't bad citizens at all. I remember one time I told the old man that ran the saloon, he was an old Dutchman and wore whiskers, I told him, I said, 'This old bastard is the blacksmith out there on the railroad, and we need him. So try to cut out on his whiskey.'"

"Well, damn old Schmidt went out and told this blacksmith what I'd said, and I never got a better cussing in my life than I did for interfering with the freedom of an American citizen. And he was right. And that taught me something.

"But after that I guess the blacksmith was grateful for it because he took a file, a regular ordinary file about that long and made a butcher knife out of it and tempered it so that the edge would never come off. He made two of them for me, and I think one of them is still around the house somewhere. . . . So he didn't hold it against me that I was trying to keep him from getting drunk."

[Miller] When you said camps, what were they, houses or tents?

[Truman] "Tents mostly. There were tents, and I had a tricycle car on the railroad that I went up and down on. I had to make a list of the men that were working every morning at seven thirty, and then I had to go back at one thirty in the afternoon to be sure that they were still there. So when the time came for their being paid, I had the records. No one ever doubted the records I kept."

[Miller] How much did those men make?

[Truman] "They made eleven dollars for two weeks' work, and as I say, they'd get paid on Saturday, and by Monday morning most of them had drunk it all up. But it was one of the best experiences that I ever had because that was when I began to understand who the underdog was and what he thought about the people who were the high hats. They felt just like I did about them. They didn't have any time for them. And neither did I. I always liked the underdog better than the high hats. I still do."

[Miller] Weren't you ever uneasy? I mean, you were a reader of books and wore glasses and, as you say, you'd been called a sissy.

[Truman] "No. No. I never had any trouble with those birds. They were just as nice as they could be, and when I left, the foreman down there in Sheffield said, 'Harry's all right from the navel out in every direction.' Which when you come to think of it is just about the highest compliment I ever have been paid.

"Some of those hoboes had better educations than the president of Ha-vud University, and they weren't stuck up about it either. The average of them was just as smart as the smartest people in the country, and they'd had experiences, and a lot of them told me about their experiences. I hope I profited from it, and I think I did. I had to quit at the end of the summer, but my goodness. That was a great experience for me."

[Miller] I understand you learned a few cuss words that summer.

[Truman] "I did. The words some of those men knew I'd never heard before, but later when I was in the Army, there was an occasion or two when those words came in handy, and I used them.

"That experience also taught me that the lower classes so called are better than the high hats and the counterfeits, and they can be trusted more, too.

"About this counterfeit business. My Grandfather Young felt the same way. We had a church in the front yard where the cemetery is now. And the Baptists and the Methodists and all of them used it. And Grandfather Young when I was six years old, he died when I was eight, he told me that whenever the customers in any of those denominations prayed too loud in the Amen corner, you'd better go home and lock your smokehouse.

"And I found that to be true. I've never cared much for the loud pray-ers or for people who do that much going on about religion."

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]

Dream:  Vice President

Excerpts from "The Poor in Ames", Ethos Magazine

Iowa State University


By Bethany Kohoutek

Homelessness in Ames

Lurking underneath the seemingly affluent, professional surface of Ames [Iowa], there is a subculture of people whose problems are life and death and stories are rarely heard. While the ranks of homeless are spiraling out of control, mercilessly leaving less fortunate people behind, the same economic forces are propelling other Ames residents to wealth and prosperity. This is a story about those who aren't making the cut or don't want to in the first place, a story of the ups and downs of life on the road--or the street.


Homelessness is a word that the average Iowa State college student probably doesn't think twice about. But even as students gripe about waiting for CyRide buses in the cold, someone is sleeping under a bridge only blocks away using a plastic sheet to keep warm. As students complain about small dorm rooms and shared bathrooms, one family per day is evicted in Ames because it can't make rent.

Students from larger cities may scoff at the notion that homelessness and poverty are major issues in Ames. Although there is no one begging for spare change on Lincoln Way, homelessness does exist in Ames. The fact that it is less of a problem than in other, larger cities just makes it worse. Because it isn't thrown in your face every day, it's easy to forget about these people.

"If a tornado came through Ames and blew away a dozen homes, it would be front-page news," Moss [Vic Moss, executive director of the Emergency Residence Project] says. "And yet when we have this kind of devastation happening on a daily basis where families are being broken apart by this, it's not covered at all."

Moss estimates that there are around 50 homeless people each night in Ames. There is no one way to stereotype this population. Each situation is different, and Moss says the shelter sees everyone from "saints to sinners."

Life on the Road

Some people living in Ames without a home do have options. But according to them, street life is the best option.

At 4:15 on a Saturday afternoon, there are seven men congregated in the living room of the Emergency Adult Project adult shelter. They have just come back from work, and the atmosphere is laid back and comfortable as the men chat amiably with each other.

This population of single, transient men (and the occasional woman) makes up the majority of the shelter's clientele. These men come and go, with no intention of staying in Ames for any substantial amount of time. However, they make up a large percentage of Ames' homeless statistics. The difference between this population and other homeless children and families in Ames is that most of the men in the living room do not want to get into permanent housing, even if it was provided for them. They insist they're homeless by personal choice, not because of any particular hardship. The self-bestowed title of 'hobo' is a term of endearment to them. Some have road names like Duke and Bullet, and speak of fellow travelers with names like Little Lizzie, the Road King, and Dakota Butch.

These men usually come to shelters to take a temporary rest from their travels to "bathe, eat, sleep, be at peace, and still make a little money," says Bullet.

"There's a difference between 'without a home' and 'homeless,'" Bullet explains. "Most people don't even know what a real hobo is. A hobo is without a home because he chooses to be. He is a man who is a traveler at heart. He works. He has clothes. He has money in his pocket. If he wants prime rib for dinner, he can reach into his pocket and pay for it."

The men have various reasons for being on the road. Some have been on the road since their early teens, and it is all they know. Others may have gone through a divorce or lost a job. Still others may have had a steady job and a family, and simply "burned out" on the routine of day-to-day life.

"We don't want to settle down and accept the political society," says Bullet. "No president, no government is gonna tell us what we're gonna do. We will not be told 'You will get up at 6:00. You will get to work by 7:00. You will punch the clock by 7:01. Then you will punch out at 3:30.' It's monotony. With us, that just doesn't work. Everyday is a new adventure. We are one of the last signs of real, true freedom."

Duke, who is 57 years old, "rides the rails" to get from place to place.

He left home at 14 because he wanted to travel--to see the country, meet new people, and because "it's a lot easier and a lot more mellow this way." He has four children and seven grandchildren who live in various places around the country. He occasionally sees them when he is in the neighborhood. If he gets bored staying in one place too long, it doesn't take much for him to "kick mud", to move on. He says he has been to every state in the contiguous United States as well as Mexico and Canada. He likes Iowa because people seem outgoing and friendly to him.

Shelter stays are fairly uncommon for him; he would rather sleep outside in his tent, even in the winter.

"I've been out here so long, I know how to live out in this. It's all just experience," he says.

Wherever he goes, he carries a 65-pound pack on his back that holds his tent, a change of clothes, campfire-making materials, a flashlight, string, a bedroll, a tarp, and a folded up sign that says "Will Work For Food. Thanks. God Bless." Most of his money is spent on groceries and tobacco, and besides his smokers' cough, he says he rarely gets sick.

Others have entirely different reasons for traveling.

Tim, who is one of the younger men in the shelter's living room, graduated from Iowa State with a degree in English. He actually had two religious poems and a short story published in Ethos. He said that in the future he plans to settle down, get married and have a family.

"I'm a Christian; I hitchhike by faith," he says. "I am being led by the Holy Spirit wherever I go. I share my faith with other people. I've met a lot of great people, and I've learned a lot from them. In fact, these pants were given to me by a family in Texas. My coat was given to me by a guy in Wyoming. Things like that. You meet so many neat people. I can't complain."


Hearing Tim talk, Bullet is quick to interject that things aren't always so easy going on the road.

"Everybody always tries to glorify it. You don't hear about the nights under the bridge, or sleeping alongside the interstate in the rain and cold. You don't hear about standing out there on a ramp when it is 35 below zero wind chill, and you got frost formed to your mustache and your hair. It can be real tough, lonely, scary. That's the downside."

"I think Bob Seger said it best," says Bullet, "'Turn the page.' Life's a book. Each day you turn the page to something different. It could be great, or it could be a real sh*thole."

Moss says that usually during summer months, there are some people who live under bridges, along the railroad, and in the wooded areas of Ames.

There is one such place under a bridge not far from campus. Plywood and plastic sheeting have been set up to make a little lean-to against the girders of the underside of the bridge. Bags of collected cans and bottles surround a green sleeping bag that is neatly laid out on the dirt. Nearby is a blackened spot in the dirt, which still smells of charcoal and lighter fluid, and various food cans are scattered around the fire pit.

There is a greening picture of Jesus looking heavenward duck-taped to the cement that forms the back wall of the makeshift dwelling. A six-inch angel statue, in perfect condition, is standing upright on the ground nearby, surrounded by other miscellaneous items--Hy-Vee Charcoal Starters, an empty pack of Camel lights, a few bottles of Hawkeye vodka, an old pair of jeans, and a few T-shirts.

Ethos
Issue 3, Volume 52
February 2001
Iowa State University

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]

High Plains Drifter (short story)
Shiloh
A Prophet's Eyes
A Prophetess from Minnesota
Walkin' Joe and the Midnight Marauders
Hobo Shoestring--King of the Rails
Ethos/Greenlee School of Journalism and Communication
The Life of a Hobo
A Thumb and a Prayer
A Red-Letter Day


Ames, Iowa