An excerpt from my next book Getting to the Right Place on all the Wrong Roads. In 1957, my father was pulling our 10 wide 60 long Trailer from Illinois to Florida. He had never done it before and never did again! EXCERPT: (As told by my mother.) “I’ve got to stop Alicia. I’m beat, my daddy said. Say why don’t you get the map and tell me where we are right now and how far we still have to go. Maybe we ought to find some trailer camp to stay at overnight so we all can get a shower and a good night’s sleep. “Okay honey. That would be swell. Let me get the map and I’ll pour you some coffee from the Thermos ™.” (Brand names were very often referred to instead of the product names. Like Kleenex™ instead of Tissue.) She leaned over the seat and located the map from the back floorboard. I opened my eyes from a restful mid-afternoon nap. “What are you doing”, I said. “Oh, just getting the map for you father and pouring him some coffee. Go back to your napping. “Well, Phil…looks like we are almost off this mountain. Just a few more miles to go and then we will level out a bit. Looks like there might be a city where we can stop before nightfall. Here…here’s your coffee.” She handed him the cap to the insulated bottle, which was filled with piping hot coffee. He took a sip and lean his head against the back of the seat. A sigh of relief followed. After returning the bottle to the back seat, she decided that maybe she would get out and stretch her legs a bit. As she put her hand on the door handle, she looked outside her window and, to her astonishment there was no shoulder on her side of the car. She pressed her nose against the glass and looked about 200 feet straight down the mountain. Turning her head, she saw the earth under the right rear trailer tires begin to crumble. She did not want to alarm my father. That would have been the worst thing to do to someone that had never even pulled a large trailer before. “Phil? Honey? We probably ought to go.” “What? I haven’t even finished my coffee!” he replied. When the going got tough, my mother could keep a cool head like no one I knew. She could exhibit a calm decorum that could make you believe she was uttering words from under a wide umbrella, drinking lemonade with a refreshing breeze blowing across her face.
Posted on: Sat, 24 Jan 2015 20:47:54 +0000
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015