On August 18, 1996, my head collided with a steering wheel, dislodging my skull, damaging my brain and body, and changing the course of my life forever. Almost a year later, I headed West, following my spirit to an unknown destination. At the time, I thought my journey would lead me out of the country. However, when I entered the great majestic cathedral of the redwood forest for the first time, I dropped to my knees and began to cry because I was so overwhelmed by the wisdom, energy and spirituality housed in these holiest of temples. I knew I had found what my spirit yearned for.

I spent a little over a month hiking and absorbing the beauty of the incredible Lost Coast of Northern California. During a re-supply trip in Garberville, I met a volunteer for the Environmental Protection Information Center who told me about the plight of Headwaters forest. I went back to Fayetteville, Arkansas, where I had my wreck, settled my lawsuit, sold everything I owned, said my good-byes and came back West determined to help.

Upon reaching Arcata, I called basecamp to get specific directions. After two hours of calling, I finally got through to someone only to find out that, "Basecamp is closing, we don't need you." I was given the media office number, only to have the same words repeated. I told the voice on the other end that I felt compelled to be here doing anything at all in the fight. He told me that there was an anti-pepper spray rally in Eureka and gave me directions on how to get there. Approximately 45 minutes later, my worn body and backpack were part of the growing crowd. During the course of the day, several people asked where I was from and what my plans were. Everyone of them answered almost exactly the same, "Yeah, basecamp is closing - they really can't use you." A brother by the name of Shakespeare overheard one of my conversations and took it upon himself to make sure that I made it to basecamp anyway. He told me that even though it was closing, basecamp was the best place for me to get plugged in. I spent the next three days wandering around the camp trying to figure out who the right people to talk to were and how to plug in. One day, a man named Almond was enlisting people to sit in a tree called Luna. I volunteered my services, excited to at last be doing something. Two days later, I hiked to the top of the Stafford ridge and learned to climb on this gigantic 1,000-year old tree called "Luna." I spent the next six days in her branches learning the life of tree sitting.

When Luna came under attack in early December, Almond and I decided to hold down the fort. Two weeks turned into three and after three I thought, "I'm so close to a month I might as well stay." As I sit here writing this by candlelight, I am on day 79 of living and loving on Luna. She and I have become one in a way I never thought possible. We have stood together through the sadness of watching giant elders smash into the ground; through Pacific Lumber's deputized climber cutting our lines to other trees; through a siege by Pacific Lumber security to try and starve me down; and through some of the worst storms in recent California history. With the love, unity and support of some incredible individuals (many of whom I've never even seen), our occupation of this hillside is now closing in on 200 days of open defiance.

Luna and I stand together in defiance of the destructive practices of corporate greed and paid-off politicians. Luna is a beacon of hope and truth. In all her majestic glory, she has become our platform to the world. From her branches we are making people aware that the destruction of the environment is a direct reflection of the destruction of our lives! A perfect example is the mudslide that occurred December 31, 1996, less than a quarter mile from where I sit, the direct result of logging by Pacific Lumber. This torrent of mud and debris destroyed seven homes in the town of Stafford, directly below me, and now threatens even more.

We are demanding that all 60,000 acres of Headwater's forest be saved. No Compromise! No Deal! We are demanding that every last old-growth tree be saved from the saw, including Luna. We are demanding that pristine areas, watersheds and critical habitat for threatened and endangered species be placed off-limits to logging! We are demanding that they respect people's homes and lives and cease all cutting on steep, unstable slopes! This is our world, and we have every right to make these demands.

I refuse to pass this legacy of self-destruction onto future generations. This is what our fight is about. So, I'm going to continue to cross their lines, to trespass. There are important, sacred, beautiful things behind their lines. On their side they hold nothing sacred and nothing dear; so I'm going to continue to break through their barricades and take back and reclaim what is!

Thus ends this chapter of the beautiful, organic, magical story of Luna. Her story is merely a small part of the struggle to save our Mother Earth and, thus, ourselves. Luna's story is about unity amidst adversity, perseverance through torture, and the willingness to stand tall for what is right, true and good.

[Ed. note: The tree sit began on October 5, 1997, with activists taking turns occupying Luna. Julia began her turn on December 10 and as this issue goes to print she is still holding on strong.]