Evening star., 1946-11-24

- OR "a days last summer I
~ travelled the country by
thumb. With a bag the size
of the modern pocketbook
and the faith Of the guileless, I
hitchhiked from Ocean City, Md, to
California and back. It was pleas
ure trip that cost me $4.53 day.
One hundred and eighty-seven cars
and IS trucks of every description
gave me rides.
My first ride, from Ocean City
Bridge, was in a station wagon. AS
I climbed in, the driver asked
question was to hear repeated
great many times: Where you
going?" said, "San Francisco.
He tried to get Whit of my breath
and said he was going to Salisbury,
Md. a
A colored driver stopped his truck
for me later in the day. A trucker
will pick up a hitcher every time
he thinks the insurance men are
not watching. He hates motorists,
but he feels for the hitcher. Truck
ers form a closely knit group whose
friendship 1t is smart for the hitch
er to cultivate. This particular
driver did not say a word for the
fret an y,1i1oe and thon he fol5 -, -
his life story. His mother had
started shaving him when he was
IL. At the age Of IA he was on
q tramp steamer bound for South
America with another mans pass
port. The plague forced him back
to the United States. He had had
to get married several times, and
he was not matrimonially free at
the moment; otherwise he would
have taken of, as I was doing, to
see the country again. One hears
lots of stories on the road, and
one has to evaluate the story by
sizing up the man who tells it.
Looking over at the huge arms and
barrel chest of the driver next to
me, decided that this story was
feasible enough.
slept in the attic Of a rooming
house that night I thought. at the
time that it was a sorry way to
start out, but I was to learn later
that any room with a window is a
small-scale palace. The next day
I was of again early. AS I gathered
experience, I developed the habit
of stopping around suppertime each
day and of getting up early the next
morning. If was offered an all
night ride would take it, of course,
but generally speaking hitch hiking
after dark is not practical.
Cities and Deserted Roads
Prove Equally Difficult
I do not know which is harder
--hitchhiking through big cities
such as Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Chi
cago and st. Louis, or trying
to get ride on the deserted roads
Of Kansas. At any rate after a
week of riding with strangers III
stopped of in a small clutter of |
houses in Kansas. 1t could scarcely |
be called town; there was not
even a restaurant. I got room in
q guest" home and wandered over
to general store that sold peanuts
and soft drinks. The proprietor was
q scraggly old fellow who was al
most completely blind. He had to
feel for my money on the counter. !
told him 1 was hitching through
and he launched into an appropriate
tale. Some friends of his had picked
up nice-looking hitcher out on
the coast. After driving all day,
they bought him supper and let him
of about dusk. He had asked for
their address, and several days later
they received a letter from him
stating that he had intended to
hold them up, but that they were
so nice to him he had gone back
home to reform. If they would
look under the back seat of their
car, the letter went on, they would |
find the revolver he had discarded.
They did, and there was the re-
volver. "Just shows what kindness
can do" added the proprietor, feel
his way along the wall to his seat. !