Opening Narration quotes from The Fugitive

Grand Forks, North Dakota. It is twenty-six months since the escape, and still another city has become a blind alley for Richard Kimble. The man with one arm, author of the crime for which Kimble was to die, remains elusive -- and, again, it is time to move on.

A trout hatchery, high in the mountains -- made to order for Richard Kimble, fugitive -- far off the main road. A lonely job. Too lonely for most men.

Those who run need sanctuary, a time and a place to catch their breath and plan ahead. On the estate of a wealthy couple, Richard Kimble has found a temporary haven.

The farm hand who likes his work lives a wholesome, uncomplicated life -- unless he is Richard Kimble, fugitive. The quiet country road is a road to danger, the peaceful village or farm, a potential trap.

You travel at night if you're on the run. The dark is a shield against curious eyes, against questions, against talk. Haunted by what lies behind. As always, fearful of what lies ahead.

Another stopping place at the end of another road. If your name is Richard Kimble, you're guilty of escape and flight. You have no future unless you can find the past: the night of September 17th, two years ago. You saw the man who killed your wife that night. The face was there for only a moment but you'll never forget it. And you keep looking. Today, a truck driver mentions a one-armed man in Decatur. The description fits.

Little fishing villages that dot the coastline are like the sea that sustains them: capricious, sometimes cordial, sometimes angry, dangerous. Tonight, the village of Puerto Viejo will be festive. Handyman Jeff Parker rooms in the warehouse loft. He's had a pleasant month here but he's made no commitments -- for it's only a matter of time till he has to move on. Parker is a fugitive.

After a while, one town is much like any other. And even a man running from the law must pause occasionally for the routine of everyday life. But, for Richard Kimble, everyday life is anything but routine.

Never chase a thief -- not if your own fear of capture is probably greater than his. Even in the fashionable remoteness of Indian Lake Lodge, that fear haunts this clerk who calls himself Stu Manning. At other times, Richard Kimble might have enjoyed vacationing here. But there is no vacation for a fugitive.

Here in southern Nevada, man is changing the bleak face of nature. With his machinery, he is carving a shaft deep into the unriveting rock and sand. A missile launching silo. When the job is finished, the Air Force will take over. But, for now, it is a civilian crew that tunnels under the desert crust -- a crew of deep and abiding loyalties. One of its newest members: a fugitive, Richard Kimble, working now as laborer and first aid man. The name he has taken: Parker.

There is a man who must keep moving -- pursuing, pursued. He is not a man of solitude but often the friendless, open road is his only alternative to death by execution. Richard Kimble. He travels a lot by thumb, makes many a long, lonely hike between rides.

At a job several miles south of Salisbury, Ohio, Richard Kimble, wearing the name Pete Glenn, grows restless now. He's worked here two months, long enough in one place -- perhaps too long. Time to move on.

The southern coast of California, where the land ends and an amusement pier juts out into the sea. A place where strangers meet, where a new face is not suspect. The fingerprints are still Dr. Kimble's, but the name is now Ben Horton.

A man who has to run to survive finds respite sometimes in desolate places. For the moment, this man is Steve Younger -- for the moment, a truck driver. Yet today, within the hour, Steve Younger has a rendezvous with death.

Bixton, Arizona. Small, quiet. For some, a good place to live. But for Richard Kimble, fugitive, it's only a stopover between rides -- a stopover he will not soon forget.