This is yet another installment of my "Things You Don't See Anymore These Days Series." One of the things you don't see anymore are hitchhikers. When I was a kid, this was the main means of transportation if it was out of bicycle range or if we didn’t have the ambition to ride our bikes that far. We used to hitchhike to Norwalk, Vermilion, Huron, Berlin Heights, and points in-between or further. I should now like to relate some of our hitchhiking experiences.

 

Most of our hitchhiking time was getting a ride to school. This was at the age when we were too cool to ride the school bus or our bicycles or make that "long" mile and a half walk. Tim and I would stand at the corner of Rt. 113 and Rt. 61 in front of TEACO (the local corner "beer joint"). For quite awhile, our regular ride was a guy in a black 1955 Ford who worked in Huron at the Agway grain dock. Although I can picture him clearly in my mind, I can't recall his name. Later on, we caught rides with the older sister one of our classmate's. She had graduated and had a job somewhere on the past the school. Her name was Marilyn, but I don't recall where she worked. We rode with her until we were able to drive our own cars to school, which was the ULTIMATE COOL!!!!

 

Some Saturday's Tim, Tom, and I would hitch a ride to Norwalk to get a haircut and/or go to Meek's Pastry Shop to buy cream sticks, which were the best in the world! In earlier stories, I have lauded the praises of these "manna's from heaven." On one occassion, Tom got a giant real cigar from his uncle. I was never sure if his uncle gave it to him, or he just "kipped" it. I think the latter rather than the former. We lit it up and took turns taking puffs. We finally realized than no one was going to give us a ride smoking a lit giant cigar. It took us quite a while to put it out by beating it on the road, and then we threw it in the ditch. Soon after, we got a ride into Norwalk. On another jaunt to Norwalk, we found that no one was stopping to pick us up so we came upon a brilliant idea. We figured it would be more likely for a driver to stop for one guy instead of three, so Tom and Tim went ahead about a thousand feet. Our plan was for me to get a ride, mention to the driver if he could pick up my two friends up ahead. The theory was good, but after a guy picked me up and got going, he got so interested in the song on the radio and before I could mention about Tim and Tom, he zoomed past them without noticing them! When they finally got a ride to Norwalk, they met me at Meek's Pastry Shop and were none too happy. Thereafter, we scrapped that theory and waited until someone was willing to stop for three guys.

 

I recall one time when I was hitchhiking home from school and a guy stopped in a fire engine red sports car and said, "Where ya head'n governor?" That always amused me. It was cool to speed down the road in a fast sports car!

 

The last time I can recall that I hitchhiked was when I came home on leave from Navy Boot camp which was in Great Lakes (or as we called it, Great "Mistakes"), IL. There was a big blizzard in the Midwest, which wasn't unusual in December, of course. Since the airlines were all grounded, I spent the night in the USO at O'Hare airport in Chicago playing Pinochle with other stranded sailors and soldiers. The next day the flights were finally able to get out. Unfortunately, Cleveland Hopkins was still closed but I noticed that Akron Canton airport was open, so I grabbed a late flight there. I stayed all night in a motel and grabbed a bus to Norwalk the next morning. After the bus stopped at Norwalk, I decided to hitchhike home, since hitchhiking home from Norwalk was certainly nothing new for me. It didn't take long for me to catch a ride because I was clad in my brand new boot camp issue navy dress blues and had my Navy pea coat on and my big olive drab sea bag (aka duffle bag for the other military branches) slung over my right shoulder. In those days, most everyone would pick up a hitchhiking serviceman. Almost immediately, a guy stopped and asked, "Where ya headed for sailor?" I said Berlin Heights and he said jump in and that he was going that way. Since it was cold and snowy, I'll bet even if he wasn't headed that way, he would have dropped me off at home anyway because most people were like that in those days. That was many years ago (more than I'm going to admit), and as best as I can recall, I have never hitchhiked since. Alas, a sacred institution has passed into the dustbin of history!

 

At this point, I will describe our method of hithhiking. When we saw a car approaching us, we always started walking backward with our hand down in a fist and our thumb out. In those days, everyone used this method instead of the moving thumb in the air. I've only seen this method in cartoons and old movies. Of course, these days no one is going to stop and pick up a hitchhiker unless it is someone they know. However, if I ever see a serviceman hitchhiking, I will immediately give him a ride without even thinking about it; whether he's a stranger or not, because I've been there myself. (I'm still not going to admit how many years ago!) J

 

(Story #339 June 20, 2008) (My new way to keep track of my stories)