The Driver

On an overcast Easter Sunday in the tiny Ohio village of Massillon, a curious spectacle unfurls along the main street. A ragtag procession of horse‑drawn wagons, flamboyant riders in buckskin and sombreros, and a brass band playing “Onward Christian Soldiers” draws townsfolk and strangers alike into a whirlwind of laughter, argument, and uneasy anticipation. The air is thick with the smells of ham, peanuts and cigars, while banners proclaim a paradoxical creed: “Peace on Earth… Death to Interest‑Bearing Bonds.”

At the heart of the parade rides an unassuming quarry owner‑turned‑self‑styled commander, spectacles perched on a thin mustache, whose grandiose ideas of perpetual motion and human perfectibility mask a shy, mystic soul. He believes himself a reincarnation of Christ, sharing that destiny with a gaudy horseman, and leads a motley “Army of the Commonweal of Christ” composed of miners, jockeys, preachers, and laborers—all bound by a single, baffling promise of an “Economic Millennium.” Their modest supplies and eccentric symbols hint at a journey that will test both faith and folly long before the final destination is reached.