Semester Break
Winter of 1964, I was in college in Kalamazoo, Michigan and needed
to get home to central Pennsylvania for semester break. My car
was questionable for that 600-mile trip, the weather was changing
fast and I had just given my seat to a girl friend in a car that
was leaving in three hours. So without much thought I packed a
small bag, dressed warmly and walked to an I-94 exit south of town
for the ride of a life time. Hitchhiking was the norm for me all
through college in the early 60's. This one started out with a
very fast ride east via the Ohio turnpike to just west of
Cleveland.
My driver was a salesman of what I forget but a story
teller of all that is evil in this world. If only I would have
had one of today's small portable recorders. He talked none stop
of things that I knew little about, and unspeakable in mixed
company. I still wonder how someone could possess such stories.
By leaving me off west of Cleveland, all traffic passing me was
westbound. It was by now late in the afternoon and light snow was
falling. I was just outside the toll booth and finally had to pay
someone to take me to the exit east of Cleveland.
From there I
got a ride with a young couple headed east who asked me to drive
while they slept. I thought nothing of it at first until the
nonstop show started in the back seat. At 19 that was my first
exposure to live X-rated rearview mirror action with all the
sound effects. What more can I say except when they dropped me
off at a Pennsylvania turnpike plaza several hours later I was
exhausted. It was late, snowing and I was doubtful of my
prospects for a ride.
As I walked into the Howard Johnson, out
walked the girl who I'd given up my seat. By this point her car
was already one passenger short so I joined them for a fast dash
ahead of the snows toward Harrisburg. As we slept in the back
things started to go wrong up front. The car was only running on
its battery and the lights were getting very dim. Then all hell
broke lose in the engine compartment. The engine must have thrown
a rod and smoke was pouring out the back. By chance a state
trooper pulled up along side and directed us off the road. The
car was dead. He left us cross the road to a maintenance site
where I called my father, who was two hours away. A school teacher
with still a teaching day ahead, he drove though light blowing
snow to get me and the three girls headed for New York City. We
dropped them off at the Harrisburg bus station and just arrived
home for him to take my teaching mother to school and to his
teaching job. One week later I had a uneventful trip back with
another friend from Philly.
Dan
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