Howard County Friends of Latin America

I am focused on leaving early this morning, trying to get the miles behind me while it is still below 80 degrees out. I do take the time to go to the bathroom and as I approach a huge, older white man steps out the building and starts questioning me.

He wants to know if I'm going to NYC, to which I say no. "D.C.?" he asks. No. He starts asking me how long I've been on the road and do I like the rest stop.

I'm stumped for a few minutes, I don't get a reading on him and I don't know if he's seen my truck and connected me to it. So I ask who he is and where he's traveling.

He tells me he's from Baltimore, on his way back home, and asks me if I've ever been to Maryland so I tell him I'm heading there right now, to a lesbian music festival where I'll read from my book.

He tells me he's an activist also. He's working on abolishing the police and the prison industrial complex, he explains, Baltimore has been devastated by racism and police violence.

I ask him who he's working with and he tells me the Howard County Friends of Latin America - he's committed to ending violence against immigrants and refugees. He invites me to join them weekly on the bridge until I let him know that I'll only be in Maryland for the festival, then I'm off again.