I was asked to do a blog on Jerichon, but I don't know where to begin.

Do I begin with someone generous enough to donate a full membership to me, a perfect stranger? -- an act which was totally unexpected and insanely appreciated, I mean to tell you. Or when someone I've chatted with a few times on Jeritopia offered me (and my two friends, Doratea & Anubis) a room? Or when LindaMae stepped up to say she'd put up with being trapped with all three of us for 7+ hours in her car to see I got there? I don't know what I'd have done without all of that. No. Wait. I do. I'd have been home listening to Shaunomac's live broadcast wishing I was there in Oakley.

Or do I begin with the arrival in Oakley? It was a long, often hysterical ride to that small village. There were mystery crops, hills made taller by sand piles, stories and "Wakeeny!" -- all of which helped us get better acquainted. Then there was the very unexpected sight of signs in Oakley welcoming "Jericho Fans." Never before in my life have I seen a town welcome a convention like this; most times, you're lucky to get a sign on the marquee of the hotel itself! Not in Oakley. They rolled out the red carpet and most businesses had a welcome for us in their window or on their sign. That just blew my mind.

Or do I start with the 2-mile walk from the hotel to "Jericho Field?" A few things did slip through the cracks, and transportation for those of us who car-pooled and didn't have a vehicle was one of them. But if that hadn't happened, we wouldn't have got to see the people of Oakley, or be able to return their waves and calls of "Hey, where are y'all from? Welcome to Oakley!" People stopped their cars in the middle of the street to do that, and no one got upset or angry when they had to move out around us on the side of the road. We saw the real town, and the real people, and when the townsfolk found out we walked (well, I was pushed in my wheelchair), there was no questions asked. They simply designated someone to give walkers a ride to and from the hotel. All we had to do was call and the Sheriff of Jericho was there. I know he's not reading this, but Thanks, Jerry!

Or do I begin with the moment I arrived at the pavilion on Jericho Field? That's when I started meeting my fellow Jericho fans. Putting faces to screen names, and being welcomed by strangers who aren't really strangers. Hearing shouts of "Morgan!" once I had my name badge on, and "Oh, it's so GOOD to finally meet you!" There were lots of smiles and hugs. There was catching up to do, and cookbooks to sell, and talking, talking, talking about ... well, everything under the sun. I don't have a voice left, and it's been two days home, now. We laughed, cried, sang, talked and did it all in one voice, and one heart, and one mind. It was like those first early days of the campaign when we worked so hard to save Jericho. We stood side-by-side, and there was no question of our solidarity. No doubt of our single-mindedness. There were no petty quarrels, bickering over who gets credit for what, and no dissention. It was the way it was always meant to be for the Jericho Rangers.

There was a lot to do, and I cannot begin to remember it all. Each moment was special for its own reason. There were things to learn, things to hear and things to say to one another. There were prizes and special gifts from the cast and crew, and even a surprise phone call from Jon Steinberg on Sunday. We told stories, we drank at Bailey's and sometimes we just sat in awe of being where we were and with whom we were with. It was ... well, words just don't describe that feeling. I can't begin to describe what it felt like to be there. A bond was formed between all those who came to this first Jerichon; a bond that will grow stronger as time passes. We weren't very many, no, but there will be more at Jerichon 2008. New bonds will be forged as old bonds are renewed.

The hardest thing of all was getting in the car to leave. I wanted to stay. I didn't want to lose the camaraderie, the friendship I found at Jerichon. Seventy strangers may have met in Oakley, KS on Friday, but 70 friends parted ways on Sunday. There will be those who say in future years, "I was at Jerichon 1" with fondness. Their eyes may even mist over a bit when they recall the events. I know I'll never forget being there, and I will work all the harder to be there next year.

The only way I can describe Jerichon 2007 is it was like going someplace I'd never been, and feeling like I was coming home.