14 years ago, the 8-year old daughter of his close friend was sexually abused - and the perpetrator got out on parole. Disappointed with the justice system, the orthopaedic shoemaker sold everything he had for 10,000€, built a big 4-wheeler wagon handcart, chained himself to it and set out to march from his hometown Hamburg 30,000km to protest for stricter laws and collect one million signatures for his petition against child abuse.

---

the cart is his library, office and caravan

The "German Forrest Gump", they say, "kilometer-eater", "shoe torturer". He pulled the cart's ~350 pounds through heat and snow, up the highest mountains, including the Zugspitze, the fairy-tale famous Brocken and across the deepest valleys, including the Camino de Santiago; and even the Øresund Bridge he crossed on his way to Norway.

Only in Austria police refused him entry for "vagabondage" and "illegal immigration" m(

^{Rainer Hoffmann, yesterday morning}

He does look a little wild, with his long grey unkempt beard and fuzzy hair, a boar whistle on a string around his neck, his coarse voice's volume and Lower German accent those of a Hamburg fish market barker. "Hey, you must be Justin Bieber's girlfriend", he hollers at passersby, or: "does your husband know you are out with your gallant?" or: "who do want to send with me, your dog, your wife or your mother-in-law?", "walk with me to the next town, you're unemployed anyway", "if you pull my cart into the next village, I'll give you a crate of beer!", "call your boss, take leave and follow me, we're meeting Angela Merkel!".

He sleeps in the cart, in winter and summer, and pulls it by the handlebar, walking backwards. Additionally, he chains it to a wide firefighter belt. When cars drive by, sometimes someone yells "run, Forest, run!", and he hates it. "They should bear right and ask me where to sign the petition! As if it does not concern them! Especially those with children themselves!"

Those who don't flee quick enough soon hold a thick, heavy file folder full of official letters in their hands. Blessings and encouragements, photos and sew-on badges from police stations, fire departments, mayors, celebrities, restaurants, pubs, discount markets. Complete with stamp and date and signature, neatly sorted into punched pockets, they incontrovertibly document the mileage of his pedometer.

Angrily, he flips through the pages of the file (he has 8 of them) and points at the excuses officials came up with for not marching with him, each an attempt at being funnier than the last. "We have spätzle on the cooker", stint the Swabians. "As us Rhinelanders famously are descendants of gimpy Roman legionaries, we regrettably can't escort Mr. Hoffmann", writes Krefeld's police. A monkey mass breakout at Serengeti Park prevents Walsrode's police to heed his call. Husum's mayor must monitor the punctual arrival of ebb and flow. Schwäbisch Hall's mayor forgot his toque and shawl. Bad Orb's police aren't sure if they'll get entrance visa to Bavaria. Weikersheim's townhall don't know whether the border checkpoint to Rothenburg will be open and Hameln's river police have grown webbings.

^{Bild Cutout}

Cutouts from various regional newspapers, even one from Bild, with portraits of Rainer that all pretty much tell the same story. The mileage varies; and on the pictures, the years leave their marks on the cart. The tarp once a shiny blue, now worn, with seams and stickers. 30 yellow stars signify the 30,000 kilometers of his march; 29 are ticked off already. Punks cut the tarp open, vandalized the door zipper and slit the tires, in Mainz he was attacked by a homeless gang; rain and snow leak through the roof, he says, the wheels are squeaking, the brake isn't working as it did, a rust film covers the steel of the drawbar and chain, the wood is weathered and has warped the whole chassis.

No priest, lawyer or prosecutor ever signed, he points out and lists the stars that support him: Helge Schneider, Udo Lindenberg, Helmut Kohl, Werner Brösel, Tony Marshall, Heiner Lauterbach, DJ Bobo, Henry Maske.

And then he lists those who chased him away: Hella von Sinnen, Andrea Berg, even Heino; ministers, ex-ministers and members of parliament, most of all the Green Party. "Such an arrogant asshole, if you don't know him," he opines on these celebrities. Alternative left/autonomous/anarchist squatting projects reject him. Eastern German neo-nazis usually approach to beat him up for vagabonding, but having the matter explained, show support.

He does accept donations for the cause, but emphasizes that he is not a "hobo": he insists to work at least 12 hours to earn his bread; otherwise, he refuses to accept food offers. He has no health care and forfeits 14 years' worth of old-age pension, receives no unemployment assistance and doesn't collect the 10-15€ homeless can claim per day in the townhalls. He receives donations from supporters - clothing, shoes, gear and little trinkets, which he trades generously. 29 pairs of shoes he has used up on the way already.

He admits he shouldn't be smoking, he is 55 now, his health has suffered. Asked whether he worries, he says nature will sort itself out.

demands to meet

"Steal a chocolate bar", he rails, "smoke some herb, you'll go to prison for three years. Molest a little child, you go free to abuse the next little girl. The punishment must be more severe."

^{The petition}

His petition demands chemical/medical castration and lifelong surveillance or preventive detention of offenders, preventive detention for all repeat offenders, a dedicated legal counsel for children, ensuring that perpetrators can never harm children again, raising awareness in families, schools and kindergartens, uncomplicated and fast help for victims and establishment of children's rights in the Grundgesetz to satisfy the UNCRC. He has 800,000. When he has a million, he wants to officially hand them all to Angela Merkel at the Reichstag in Berlin.

What will he do afterwards? "See whether it is possible to make change happen in this country. If not, I'll make it 50,000 kilometers and walk to Putin."

---

meeting rainer hoffmann

There is a peaceful kiosk halfway into my Lower-Saxon town which I like to visit in the morning because Nancy is brewing the best coffee in a 30km radius. It was around the time without many customers, but knowing all her patrons personally, an unfamiliar, loud, demanding voice raised my curiosity. It did not sound threatening and I trusted the landlady to call me if there's trouble she can't handle, it wasn't her first day on the job after all. She gave me a sign, so I looked around the corner and beheld the presence of a pure force of nature, a hobgoblin of a man with his grey beard and fierce eyes, scolding me for the mayor of our town like a madman. "Come here, you, boy!", he summoned me with his rough and booming voice.

I have worked at gas stations and kiosks, my father is a true Hamburger Jung. So I very slowly stood up and in my friendliest, best, truest and most boisterous Northish answered "Moin!". He accepted the peace offer and let the matter be explained.

Joining them at the POS, I noticed through the shopwindow a huge blue wagon standing on the sidewalk, from which he produced the file with the official's letters recommending him. "They are trolling me!", he stated. I quickly scanned the letter penned by the mayor of the last town he had come through. But he was already leafing through the pages, highlighting the most pert excuses. He found every page in an instant. I asked him what he wanted to drink, but the landlady served him a local brew on the house and we sat together.

The afternoon before, he had arrived in town. First thing he reported at the townhall, as he always does, and demanded to speak the mayor, and got an appointment at 10:00am that morning. But what did our mayor do? He snubbed him. Didn't even look at the file, said he couldn't verify he had really walked those 29500 km already. Also he had no time, bye, get out or get kicked out.

We talked, to be more precise: he talked, and had lots of wonderful ideas: I should pull his car for him at least one kilometer, sell him the landlady, take a photo of him and his cart (which we did) or we should call the press and make a photo in front of the shop as some hidden advertisement, which is what we also did. The reporter invited Rainer to come over, but it took a bit of explaining the whole 160kg-cart-pulling-by-foot thing to convince him to just hop into his car...

...after lunch break, of course. Germany!

So we had a few hours still. We have both been on similar paths, and asked him if and what he needed and got him two pairs of socks and a book and a small donation towards a new set of wheels. He also had presents for us: I received the cap that Helge Schneider once gave him, pierced in two places to allow a zip tie to hold his pedometer. "Are you hungry?" - "I will only accept your food when you hire me as your au-pair girl" was his reply.

He told us many stories, showed us the newspaper articles he had collected over the years, allowed us to photograph them and had us play his guess-the-celebrity riddle games of who he knew, was close friends with and could introduce us to. "Do you want me to bring you to G.G. Anderson?" was one of his favorite pick-up lines whenever somebody went by on the sidewalk. He also revealed deep knowledge about the connections between the kingpins of the red light districts and famous musicians, actors and politicians, sometimes bordering on the phantastical - it ended up outright conspirationally when we got into Polanski, Kinski and child prostitution rings.

---

Rainers files (excerpt)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.

---

The reporter arrived, got his coffee and held the interview. Of course he too was urged by Rainers fury to study the files in fast forward, and seldomly had a chance to interrupt him to ask for clarifications on things which should have been obvious - at least according to Rainer. And of course he collected the reporter's excuse for not accompanying him as well.

(Also, he demanded a horse tax, for their shitting on the streets, whereas everyone else must pay dog tax although you are obliged to clean up after it anyway. He encounters it often on bike lanes.)

Although Rainer was not a bit disappointed when someone refused to walk with him (14 years of "uh...", "yes, but" and "fvck off" must have lowered his expectations), he continued to nag everyone about it, trying one celebrity name after another to lure us into his project. And as I wondered how good my own excuses to myself would be the next day for not going with him, I asked him for his battleplan and struck a deal: that I would call every month, and that he would call in time to announce his arrival in Berlin. At least the last kilometers, I promised, he would not be walking alone, as he did all the other 30,000. He only has 500 left, and it is only 280 km from here to Berlin. He expects to arrive in time for the federal elections.

---

^{Today's article}

I disagree on philosophical grounds on details of the demands in Rainer Hoffmann's petition. I see not much promise in calls for more severe punishment or threats of greater force in terms of benefit for victims and those who need protection. If a better distinction were made between the disorder "pedophilia" and the crime "sexual child abuse", someone noticing these urges would be more likely to seek professional help ASAP. Someone who is under threat of force can impossibly be expected to weigh risk and benefit correctly when fate tempts with opportunity. Surely, the higher the stakes are, some psychopaths might be even more inclined to murder their victims to minimize the risk of exposure, than just trusting their brainwashing and manipulation "skills". Terribly difficult topic, which this shall not be the place or time for.

Have I signed the petition anyway? Of course I did, and if only so he has one meter less to walk.

And here is why else: if someone steals your TV, it is only reasonable to convincingly say "I am going to burn your house, BBQ your cat, rape all pumpkins in your garden, blow up your car and take my TV" so the other one is glad when you only take your TV, when "I want my TV back" has only been met with laughter in the past.

Despite all officals' and politicians' attempts to downplay the issue and paint them as isolated cases, in the eyes of many citizens the laws and/or their application have too often proven to be unfit to protect innocents who have no means to defend themselves, and instead hurt victims with even more grief, insult and often even greater danger.

My quibbles with the petition's wording never stopped me for a second from feeling the deepest respect for this guru, for his conviction, strength, persistence and resolution; and I wish him all the best on the last long miles, include him in my prayers and am looking forward to seeing as many of you as possible at the Reichstag in a few months.

Helge, I'll bring your cap.

---

German articles on Rainer

^{A supporter maintains a Facebook profile for him.
Märkische Allgemeine has a photo with the deepest snow.
rosenheim24.de article
Der Inselbote, shz.de
Baden Online}

---