At Marylyn's her housemates were able to lock the doors before the FBI could get in, and they thought the feds had departed. But when Marylyn's dog had to be taken outside to do its duty the FBI cars swooped down the street from all directions.
Marylyn's 70-year-old landlady, Jean Petersen, tried to block the way but was shoved to the side. Another roommate, a young man, blocked the steps. Marylyn demanded identification and a warrant, and one agent said they did not need to provide any.
Marylyn then hurried upstairs to call the press and also the Omaha police, saying strangers were in her home claiming they were the FBI.
The police and the press arrived and Marylyn was taken away on camera. It was the lead story on television and radio for days in Omaha. Friends then crossed the line in protest of the treatment of Marylyn — then Kevin, in hiding until a few days later, was able to undertake the original sanctuary action, with additional press coverage.
So, the FBI and the Omaha Catholic Church were not able to hush up the sanctuary action with their early morning raids. They only served to give it even more attention.
Well, Marylyn's cabin is up in the big woods near Cohasset, outside of Chico. We have a great late-night old-home session, remembering the days of the '80s in Omaha, and lots of old friends.
In the morning I head off toward Redding and then turn east on 299 to go through the mountains.
Around and around, up, up, down, down. It's raining, then foggy.
The puffs of clouds and fog look like dozens of little fires in the forest.
I pass the Bigfoot Campground, Bigfoot Rafting, Bigfoot Burger, and Bigfoot Bait.
Must be some sort of theme.
I see the sign for Willow Creek.
Another I-can't-believe-I'm-here moment.
I think I saw a Bigfoot on two occasions. Once was in southern Minnesota in the '90s driving along the interstate late at night. The other was in the '80s while I was walking up on a hillside in Spearfish Canyon in South Dakota.
Anyway, I love the woods. I think it's the mystery. You can't see what's there, you can only imagine.
I'm following the beautiful Trinity River. At the top the rain becomes snow and ice, then rain again at the bottom.
Marylyn's 70-year-old landlady, Jean Petersen, tried to block the way but was shoved to the side. Another roommate, a young man, blocked the steps. Marylyn demanded identification and a warrant, and one agent said they did not need to provide any.
Marylyn then hurried upstairs to call the press and also the Omaha police, saying strangers were in her home claiming they were the FBI.
The police and the press arrived and Marylyn was taken away on camera. It was the lead story on television and radio for days in Omaha. Friends then crossed the line in protest of the treatment of Marylyn — then Kevin, in hiding until a few days later, was able to undertake the original sanctuary action, with additional press coverage.
Well, Marylyn's cabin is up in the big woods near Cohasset, outside of Chico. We have a great late-night old-home session, remembering the days of the '80s in Omaha, and lots of old friends.
In the morning I head off toward Redding and then turn east on 299 to go through the mountains.
Around and around, up, up, down, down. It's raining, then foggy.
The puffs of clouds and fog look like dozens of little fires in the forest.
I pass the Bigfoot Campground, Bigfoot Rafting, Bigfoot Burger, and Bigfoot Bait.
Must be some sort of theme.
I see the sign for Willow Creek.
Another I-can't-believe-I'm-here moment.
I think I saw a Bigfoot on two occasions. Once was in southern Minnesota in the '90s driving along the interstate late at night. The other was in the '80s while I was walking up on a hillside in Spearfish Canyon in South Dakota.
Anyway, I love the woods. I think it's the mystery. You can't see what's there, you can only imagine.
I'm following the beautiful Trinity River. At the top the rain becomes snow and ice, then rain again at the bottom.
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