Congratulations to every single one of you on what you have accomplished on your long journey from Bear Mountain.To all the spectators, our thanks to you as well, for being here with your signs, and balloons to greet your friends. Many of you donated hard-earned dollars to this effort and we consider you part of the family — every bit as important to this as the rest of us.

For Avon and Pallotta TeamWorks, this is our last event of the season. Our last closing ceremony of 2001. We started way back in May with the Washington, D.C. 3-Day, and all summer long, at Avon Breast Cancer 3-Days and AIDSRides and AIDS Vaccine Rides — 16 events in all — 16 opening and closing ceremonies — 40,000 riders and walkers and crew members — you all have raised about $60 million for these causes. There is no place we’d rather finish out the year than here with 2,500 New Yorkers. We thought about canceling this event after September 11th. We didn’t know if people had the strength left to do something about breast cancer in New York, after everything that has happened here. We underestimated you. Leave it to New Yorkers to be able to reach out their hands to people with breast cancer at the same time their trying to heal their own wounds. You didn’t just show up, you showed up with enough donations to get the New York 3-Day net a million dollars more for breast cancer than we budgeted.

As we speak a memorial is being held at the World Trade Center site for all those that lost their lives there. I met a walker last night who lost her brother at the World Trade Center, and she said she was torn between being here with us today and being there at the memorial, and she asked if we could have a moment of silence at the ceremony today. Could we all please be silent for a moment and join that memorial service in spirit for all those of you who lost a friend or a family member on September 11th.

America is very much on our minds these days. What does America mean? Is it a flag? Is America a song? Is it a piece of land between Canada and Mexico?

The Statue of Liberty says bring me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, yearning to be free. There are 1 million women in America with undetected breast cancer. Many of them are immigrants, like our grandparents were. They are tired, and poor. They come across the sea from Russia and eastern Europe to the Statue of Liberty. Others come up from Mexico and central America, and live in the central valley of California. They can’t afford mammograms. They don’t have health insurance. But they have come here seeking a better way of life. They have come here yearning, with the same hopes and dreams our grandparents came here with. When you reach out your hands to them, as you have so bravely these last three days — you say to them “this is what America means.” My kindness is what America means. This is what this flag stands for. It is not complicated. It stands for common human decency. It stands for human kindness. It stands for hope, for all those inside and outside our borders who are without hope. You people are patriots, in the truest sense of the word. Because in the end, a patriot isn’t just someone who lives in America. A patriot is someone who makes America live. That is not easy. That is not something that you can do on your couch in front of the TV. That requires action. That requires courage. That requires love. And courage and love are what you brought to the Hudson River Valley this weekend.

The world’s not much going to remember what we say here. But it’s never going to forget what you did here. Does that mean it will be written in the history books? Yes, it does. It will be written in the history books. Right now, somewhere, there is a woman who has breast cancer. And she doesn’t know it. She’s probably living on a pretty low income. And she has a young daughter. Because of what you did here she’s going to see an early detection notice somewhere. She’s going to be able to go to a clinic that gets funding from the crusade. And she’s going to find out early enough to survive. She’s going to get to watch her daughter grow up, and help her pick out a dress for the prom. She’s going to go to her graduation and to her wedding. She’s going to get to see her grandchildren. And her daughter will never have to face growing up without her.

They may not know that you had anything to do with it, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, quietly, without need for credit or glory, re-wrote their history book. That your willingness to take action in your life, changed theirs, forever, without so much as a word being spoken.

You have asked for no glory, but you deserve it. What you have done here is magnificent. You have given the full measure of yourselves. Everything you had, you offered, with nothing left over and nothing left out. All the currency of inspiration you could find to keep you from quitting you spent, with not a penny left in the register.

Tomorrow you go back to your jobs and your homes. And people may not tell you every day that you are incredible. In fact, you may not ever hear it. So I want to leave you with a reminder. You ARE magnificent. You ARE an inspiration. You ARE a force of nature. You are the meaning of America. You are not insignificant. You are not a moth. You are an eagle. Remember this, in those snowy moments of February, when you feel far away from the glory of this day, that that glory comes not from this event, or from this stage. It comes from within you. It is who you are. It is always available to you. No one can ever take it away.

With a prayer for an end one day to breast cancer, and that it happen by our resolve and not by chance, we say goodbye and thank you to you. We love you New York.

Congratulations everyone. This train is on its way home to Los Angeles to get ready for the 2002 season. We hope we will see you again next year on this, or one of our other journeys toward a better world. Bye everybody. We’ll miss you.