True to his promise, Blake was there two weeks ago when the Great Peace March wound up in, of all places, Barstow, Calif., a truck-stop town on the edge of the Mojave Desert. The organizers of the march admitted there was this little problem with money—there wasn't any left. They had gone through $4 million in food, supplies, salaries and sundries. They needed $100,000 just to make the week-long trek across the Mojave to Las Vegas, and they said, another $11 million to complete the push to the Senate's door. Announced David Mixner, 39, founder of PRO-Peace, which slapped the march together, "It is going to be necessary for PRO-Peace to fold, so that the debts not be an unbearable burden for those of you who wish to continue."
When last seen, PRO-Peace was a cloud of dust on the horizon and the number of marchers had dwindled to about 500. The diminished company was camped at a bicycle racetrack in Barstow, and outriders were canvassing the countryside for donations. Surprisingly, the mood among the faithful was chipper as they rededicated themselves to the long symbolic journey. Robert Blake, who'd been to Hell Town and back, liked what he saw. "The attitude is sensational," he said, although he added, "I don't know what will happen when there's no breakfast."
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!















