9-2-2001

11:59 AM

We are at the Lusaka airport and hanging out in a lounge with Jackie and Francis.
We just ordered some food, I didn't get breakfast this morning. Last night was a late night, I spent a few hours cleaning up the gear and organizing it, sorting and getting it ready for packaging and shipping.

Yesterday was amazing as well.

The concert was a success, but again, it was not according to our plans or expectations.
We arrived early at the show grounds and planned to do an early sound-check. We never got a sound-check, just so you know how this is going to go.

When we arrived, the sound system was getting finished being set up and the stage was done, except for the canvas windbreaker we were going to have across the rear of the stage. All of that came together, but after the power lines were dropped and run to the stage and tested, it turned out to be the same voltage as Manda Hill; Phase 1 was low voltage and Phases 2 & 3 were too high. New power was run form a different poll and a generator was rented and brought over. While this fiasco was underway, a militia troop of 20 to 30 men, fully armed, arrived in a huge truck and parked in the field just behind our stage...

They unloaded all the men and they lined up in formation and stayed there. After a while, a well-decorated man came over to Travis and Matt and told them that his commanding officer wants to talk to them. They called me because I was the only other one of the band on site (Rich had gone to get something and Billy wasn't there yet.) So I told Douglas, one of our drivers, to come with me and we went with the officer to meet his commanding officer. The man we walked up to was bigger than me and never once looked at me, just spoke in my direction, holding his riding crop/baton and explained to me who he is, what he is responsible for and that he has no paper work on our event and that we must give him what he is asking. I told him that as soon as my superior arrives, I will send him to meet him. He said that will be sufficient and excused me. To say I was scared...

I must discontinue for our lunch has arrived here in the Lusaka airport lounge.

We interrupt this journal entry to inform you that we are currently in a South African Airlines 747 in Sal, an island off the coast of Africa, our only stop in transit to New York! "But, you were supposed to go to Frankfurt...yes?" Yes, but when we got to Johannesburg, we found that our tickets would not be honored due to an embargo that was just put in place and God got us on this flight. Had it not been this flight, there was one tomorrow or we would have had to wait until September 9th to get purchase tickets so we could fly out of South Africa on the 10th. So we sit in cattle class, rear of the plane, different rows, different seats. We are just about to depart from Sal for a 6 hour and 40 minute flight. More once we get in the air...We are air born over the Cape Verde Islands, Sal is one of those islands.

I'm very tired and figure to rest the computer and rest myself. It's 6:24 AM Zambia time, 3:24 AM Sal time and 9:24 PM your time. I'm gonna be thrashed when I get home...

It's 10:30 in New York's JFK Airport where we sit now awaiting seats on flight #9 non-stop to SFO which departs at 11:30. We just finished a breakfast here in the airport and we were all refreshed by the familiar cooking and REAL catsup (Heinz).

One of my bags, my large roll-a-round which contains my dirty clothes, and I think it has my medicines, got left in Johannesburg...Though this is not good, AT LEAST WE ARE HERE IN THE USA!!! For this I am prayerfully grateful and thankful. Billy says if the bag was actually stolen, we might do very well monetarily, but that is probably a long shot.

There are certainly more stories to follow, but if we are able to board this flight, I will most likely wait until I am home to collect these writings.

I love you
me

I love you and will finish the final concert write up later.
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