The Pedalin' Prof from William Jewell College  

The Pedalin' Prof
From William Jewell College
Visits Good Folks who live in
Greater Liberty

That summer I rode my bicycle alone and without money from Disney World to Disneyland, Mickey Mouse gave me a trophy and Disney gave me a name: The Pedalin' Prof from William Jewell College. A spark of goodness burns inside every person on the planet. For as long as I can remember, I had believed that. I wanted to see if I could find it. By coming unannounced to places and people across America and asking for a sandwich, a drink of water, a bed for the night, I expected to fan that spark of goodness into a fire that warmed and enlightened everyone involved. And having found that spark in everyone I met, I wanted to ride again to tell everyone my good news.

More than 500 people I asked for help. I had never in my life met a single one of them. They didn't know I was coming. They knew about me only what I told them in three short sentences: "Hello, my name is Ed Chasteen. I'm riding alone and without money across America. I need a . . . .. No one ever said no.

I'm still riding. Hundreds of miles every week. Thousands every year. Only now I ride closer to home. On my best days I can ride about 125 miles. I live in a town called Liberty. So I drew a map with Liberty as its center and going out 125 miles in all directions, an area of 104 counties in parts of four states and home to some three million people. This is Greater Liberty.

This is where I ride. I've ridden once or twice to towns on the border of Greater Liberty. Mostly, though, I ride to small towns some 15 to 30 miles away, nearly always to breakfast in one of their cafes. I've become a regular at Catricks in Lawson, Fubbler's Cove in Orrick, JJ's in Plattsburg, Mill Inn in Excelsior Springs, and Sarah's Table in Kearney. I've been several times to Lowman's in Smithville, Country Cookin' in Platte City, First Watch in North Kansas City, City Diner in Kansas City, Red Rooster in Polo, Harmer's in Edgerton, Dolly's in Holt, Maggie's in Stewartsville and Cook's Corner Café in Dearborn.

Riding is medicine for everything that ails me. A doctor told me years ago that I have Multiple Sclerosis. He called it a damnable disease and said I couldn't be active. But I discovered that if I ride, I can run; if I don't, I can't walk. Riding is also the source of endorphins and ideas that buoy my frazzled mind and weary soul above morning headlines and nightly news.

Bike riding is the portal to my world. In my world too much sanity may be madness. And the greatest madness of all may be to see the world as it is, and not as it should be. In my world, I expect to find goodness in everyone I meet, and I expect to like everyone I meet. At our moment of birth, every person in the world is a possible friend. I ride to keep this possibility alive.

In my mind I assume the fictional identity of Don Quixote as I have come to know him in the stage production, Man of LaMancha. As the story opens, Don Quixote is an old man. His brains have dried up from reading too much about man's inhumanity to man. But instead of surrender, Don Quixote mounts a crusade to right the world's wrongs. He mounts his old horse, dons his old helmet, grabs his old rusty lance and with his old friend, sets off to transform the world. When friends advise him that wickedness wears thick amour, Don Quixote responds, "And for that you would have me surrender? Nay, the enchanter may confuse the outcome ten thousand times. Still; must a man arise and again do battle, for the effort is sublime."

My horse is my bicycle. I wear a helmet. I carry a pencil. I write to and about the folks I meet. I look for goodness. I will continue to find it until one of two things happens. Either badness does me in. Or epidemic goodness sweeps the land, this land I call Greater Liberty.

Read My Books and Invite Me To Come

I won't go where I'm not wanted. And the only way I'll know I'm wanted is if I'm invited. I want to be invited to come to every county seat town in Greater Liberty. I want to drive there in my bright red PT Cruiser. I call it the HateBuster Mobile, license # H8BSTR. I will bring my bicycle, park on the town square, and go for a ride a few miles from town in all directions, greeting everyone I see.

Since that summer I rode across America, I have ridden my bike in more distant places: Australia, Africa, Canada, China, England, Japan, Mexico, New Zealand. Now in Greater Liberty I want to ride. To the 104 county-seat towns named on the jersey I wear. I want to meet folks. I long to be invited to speak to civic clubs, schools, faith communities, businesses. Amazing things have happened to me on my bike. I have stories to tell. Invite me and I will come. The only payment I ask is your wish to hear me.

That evening after the ride, I want us to come together in some public place for a Human Family Reunion, where we all bring a dish of our favorite food. After dinner I will teach my book. It's called How To Like People Who Are not Like You.

Only an hour I will take, my intention being to help us along on our way to becoming World Class Persons, able to go anyplace at anytime and talk to anyone about anything and feel safe. An increasingly valuable skill in today's world.

It was while teaching at William Jewell College that I discovered how to like people who are not like me and began my quest to become a World Class Person. I tell this story in another book. This one is called, William Jewell College—My Camelot.

Both of these books are available online for a donation of any amount. All donations for my books go to fund an organization my students and I started in 1988. We named it HateBusters. We have no dues and no meetings. Only work to do. We respond to any act of hate that occurs in Greater Liberty. We do whatever is needed to help those who have been hurt. We charge no fees. And we never say no when asked to help.

We find other ways to raise the money we need. Donations for my books is one way. Donations from supporters is another. HateBusters, Inc. is a non-profit 501 C-3. All gifts are tax deductible. To order a book or make a donation, click on Donate at the top of this page. You may also send a check to HateBusters, Inc. Box 442, Liberty, MO 64069.

Click here for a list of County Seat Towns.