Hikes. Walks. Marches. All you need is yourself, and a place to walk. I guess that is why I love walking. I learned at about a year or so, how to walk- and never looked back. My walks can be broken down into two categories. The larger one is me, by myself, walking in cities, the countryside, or Forests. Never did like Jungle walks. Heat and Humidity while being nibbled on by bugs that not only did I not recognize but were bigger than any I knew back in Ohio, well I lost my taste for walking in Swamps or Jungles. And those walks were all in Peaceful Places. Unlike many of you fellow soldiers who had to do those same "walks" in Combat.

But the walks I remember the most come from the smaller category of walks. The walks where I was holding someone's hands. My Mother's, my sisters, my girlfriends, my wife, my children, and now my grandchildren.

Those are warm memories. I got lost walking in the inner-city, and ended up almost fifteen blocks away from where I lived on West 30th Street. My entire Family had been busting their butts trying to find me. My sister Kay told Mom and Dad she would go all the way up Clark Avenue to Forty fifth street or even Fiftieth . My Mom said there was no way I could walk that far: "Kevin is only five, and looks like he is three. His little legs wouldn't carry him that far."

"You don't know Kevin." Is what my sister said.

She found me at the corner of 48th and Clark. I was sitting in a bus stop trying to figure out where my street was. Kay called my name. Believe me I burst out of that little Bus stop like my pants were on fire. I was so glad to see her.

We walked home holding hands. I asked her if I was in trouble. She laughed.

"No. In fact, why don't we stop in Woolworth and get you a grilled cheese and a milkshake. "

And we did. My Dad taught me to read a map that week. And I carried one with me until I got old enough to not get lost. At least in the city.

I was sixteen, and in love. In fact, I would get engaged to that girl just two years later. That would last until I turned 22 and came home from my first Enlistment. But all that was in the future. That day was the first time I had held a girl's hands all the way home from School. We decided not to take the Bus home, and walk together. It was a good two miles - and there were no cellphones back then. But we told my best friend (who remained my best friend until he passed away two years ago) to tell her Mom (who was also his Mom) that we walked home.

I don't remember the walk other than it was one of those curious things that only young love can make happen. Where just that connection is enough to make the world okay. Except when we got home, very close to Supper time, her Mom was not okay with it. She worried the whole time about her daughter. She got grounded for two weeks after that walk. But we both were glad we did it.

Then I found my Kathy. Her hand and mine, well, they reach for each other anytime we start to move around. My kids thought it was so cute that Mom and Dad held hands to walk, or stroll down the beach. When I worked the Cruise Ships, Crew and Passengers alike would tease us about holding hands all the time. We didn't care.

I can't walk as far now. But on Kathy's days off, we walk, together. Holding hands. On her work days, I walk by myself around the lake, or in the Park. And just like when I was a kid, I love walking. I don't do hills anymore, unless you count my driveway. But I am never really alone, for my mind can provide a hand to hold from memory, or a place I loved to walk from the past.
All I have to do, is keep moving.