And now Angels, the last day. After waking up and having an early breakfast, like at 5 am, we had to come back and deflate the sleeping pads and roll them up, roll up our sleeping bags and bag them, pack all of our gear up in our luggage, keeping only what we need for the day. Then we had to take the tent down and bag it all up. Then carry everything over to the gear truck assigned to our Section B. After we finish all that, around 6:15, we start boarding school buses which will take us over to one of the schools in Dunwoody where we will start our walk into Atlanta and wind up at Piedmont Park. The school was nice enough to let us wait inside where it was warm until it was light enough out for them to let us start walking. We started gathering outside the school, anxious to get started again. It was really a mixed set of emotions now. Part of me was saying, let's get going and get this walk over with, and another part of me was deeply saddened because the end of an amazingly wonderful weekend filled with love was approaching an end, and I was wishing it could go on forever. Especially when I started seeing the miniature flags that had been carried throughout the 60 miles by walkers, passing them from one to another so as many as possible would be able to carry one of them at one time or another. The individual flags were pink with a word on them like LOVE, COMMITMENT, HOPE, GENERATIONS. And then I saw the the young lady I told you of earlier, the one in the wheelchair. Everytime I think about it, it tears at my heart. She was holding one of the flags and it had DREAMS on it. That was on the flag that I had carried into the opening ceremonies. I told you earlier that she was such an inspiration to everyone that met her. There is no way to explain the admiration and the love I feel inside each time I saw her. My eyes are filled with tears right now as I'm writing this. Have you ever had something make you want to sob out loud and you try holding it back and when you do that, you actually feel a lump in your throat, and the harder you try to hold it in, the more the lump in your throat hurts, to the point where it's hard to swallow? The hundreds and hundreds of walkers that got blisters all over their feet walking, and continuously lanced and bandaged them to walk some more and get more blisters. This beautiful young ladie's hand had a bandage on it. You know what's under that bandage? And I looked at her beautiful face. She's still smiling. I never saw her when she wasn't, throughout the entire time she was wheeling herself 60 miles. We've been standing around now for about 30 minutes, and now the walkers are getting restless. Everyone wants to get to what we are all waiting for now, closing ceremonies. All of the walkers that were there already, started chanting in unison, LET'S WALK, LET'S WALK, LET'S WALK. There were still buses coming in loaded with more walkers, but we were getting so loud that they finally held up a line of 6 bus loads, to let us cross over in front of them and start our walk. Ok, we are off and walking. Some of us aren't walking as fast as we were back on day one, but we're still walking. We hadn't been walking very long when we came across our smallest supporter. There was a woman standing in her driveway and her baby daughter was sitting in her stroller. You know something, it had gotten harder and harder as the weekend rolled by, to not have thoughts pop into my mind every time I would see someone like this. Thoughts like, Dear God, please let my walking make a difference so that this little girl never has to lose her mother, or this mother never has to lose her daughter to cancer. After lunch we walked 3 more miles to the last pit stop. They were having a "Toga Party" at this one. And finally we reached the entrance to Piedmont Park. I was pretty much a mess as I reached the bottom of the hill and saw my wife and daughter standing there waiting on me. I don't have a picture of it, I wish I had thought ahead to give my camera to someone coming in with me, but my wife and I embraced and I think we stood there and held each other and cried for about 5 minutes. Finally I was able to get it together and go on through the gate. There was someone there handing each walker a rose as we came in, and then we walked about another 100 yards or so to the actual end of the walk, where we were scanned in for the last time. That last 100 yards was lined with people cheering and applauding. Lots of them were walkers that had already finished. Lots of them were survivors, thanking each and every walker. After I got scanned in, I went back up near the gate and took pictures of some of the walkers coming in behind me. There was my wife standing near the gate, and she was just repeating over and over and over, Thank you, Thank you for walking, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you for walking. She didn't miss a walker for over an hour as she stood there. Finally the last walker arrived and we started preparing for the closing ceremonies. From the holding area, the walkers lined up across the pathway in groups of 6. Once everyone was in place, we started walking around the end of the lake into a large open area. Well it wasn't exactly open, it was filled with thousands of people, all screaming and yelling and cheering. Once again, you couldn't help but lose it, and I think every walker in every line of 6 had tears running from their eyes. As we reached the closing area, one line of 6 would go left and one line of 6 would go right, and that continued until similar to the opening ceremonies, all of the walkers were on both sides of a center area that was cordoned off. And then following the walkers came the 350 crew members, who filled the outside of the inner circle. And then all of the survivors in pink started coming in until they filled the inner circle. And as they started filing in, every walker raised a single shoe to honor all of the survivors. Doesn't sound like much, the raising of a shoe, but it was one of the most emotional experiences I have ever had. 
All of this time the announcer, Jenne, had been making a very emotional closing speech, probably more so than her opening speech was. After all of the survivors had filled the inner circle, there was a song played and they raised the flag ending the 3-Day, which had on it "A World Without Breast Cancer". As they were raising the flag they released some pink balloons that rose into a beautiful blue sky, and every walker raised their roses in salute to the survivors one last time.
After closing ceremonies, we walked back around the lake to where all the luggage was lined up. Once we found our luggage we carried out to where we boarded our bus and were shuttled back to the hotel where we had parked.
Why do people do it?
People do it because there is goodness and light in this messed up world.
They do it because they refuse to sit by and watch while breast cancer systematically picks off their loved ones.
They do it because they have to.
They do it because Courtney, who walked in Atlanta this year, was diagnosed at age 28 with breast cancer after meeting and marrying the love of her life and had to have her eggs harvested and frozen before she went through treatment so that on the off chance she lived, they'd be able to try to have the family they've dreamed of.
They do it because Mary Ann, who walked in Michigan, lost her mom at the tender age of 13 when girls need their mothers the most and don't want to have to ask their dad to take them to buy tampons and shouldn't have to ask the neighbor to curl their hair for the prom.
They do it because Jeff, who walked in Seattle, finally met his soul mate after 43 years and knew it nearly immediately and grabbed her up and married her only to have her diagnosed, treated, and ripped from his arms and life a short 4 years later.
They do it because no sister should have to say goodbye to her best friend. Because no child should be without a parent. Because no parent should have to bury their child.
They do it because they are determined to live in a world without breast cancer.