#28 "Are We There Yet?"
Posted Wednesday, April 18, 2018 05:32 PM

( 28 )
Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Blow
“Are We There Yet?”

Saying good-bye can be an ordeal, so it helps to have something positive in your future to keep you from dwelling in the past. Yet, I would dwell for a while upon my most positive school experience to date, the reading circle. The twins would find seats and save me the seat between them. And it isn’t easy to forget the pretty twins; they wore cowboy boots! The McCauleys had become our friends, as well as good neighbors. They had two more children before they, too, left Memphis. So I would focus on November 1st, Saturday, in Tulsa, and Sunday, just up the road: Grandma’s house! Again, we wouldn’t be there long, but it would be quality time! Besides the Grandparents, there was the guitar in the attic and the bb gun. Then there would be more good-byes.

The weather in Ponca City on Tuesday morning, November 4th, was chilly, but bright and sunny. The new vehicles with their trailers were all lined up, shiny and official-looking, as were the executive types in hats, coats, and ties, squinting for the camera. This gathering, looking like a casting-call for a Hollywood detective movie, was all about getting publicity pictures. Conoco had a photographer, and Dad was going to get the pictures for the home office. He had his Graflex 4x5” Speed Graphic press camera, which was the finest any professional could desire or acquire at the time, since Graflex had a 90%+ market share in professional circles during 1940 to 1955. It had also been his studio camera. He was in his element, and was pleased with the results of his efforts. So were Mr. McCollum and the client. With the film in the bag, and in the hands of the bosses, there was no more reason for “burnin’ daylight”, and the weather report was not very favorable. The vehicles were fitted with governors on their engines, so this was going to be slow-going in any kind of weather. Snow-going, pulling trailers on slick road conditions, would make it even worse. We should have good weather and a six hour drive to Dodge city, where, in case we were late, the home  office had made reservations for us. After that we would be on our own.

In the days before four-lane interstate highways, traveling great distances required the  stamina for putting in long days, and the motivation of a desperate need to get there. Poor weather meant not knowing how to estimate driving distances per day, so lodging became catch-as-catch-can; the safest, surest way: start looking early and take the first available vacancies that can accommodate the number of bodies and park the convoy of vehicles. The last sunshine we had seen was that morning in Ponca, and we wouldn’t see Douglas Wyoming until the 7th, and Casper on the 8th. I remember spending a night in Greeley, probably the 6th, and having supper in what is now Roasty’s Bar and Grill, the only place open at that hour. We had about 4 inches of snow on the ground the next morning and when we reached Casper, we were roughly half way from Tulsa. All our vehicles were four-wheel drive and all our drivers’ knuckles, like the roads, were white!

The rest of the trip, we had heavy snow, and many times, stiff winds, which made visibility poor, and driving nerve-wracking, if not downright hazardous. We had parceled-out drivers matched with passengers so no driver was solo, the intent being keeping everyone awake and alert. When we would stop for fuel, sometimes people would switch places, just to hear some new stories. When Ben Kendrick, the crew chief and Daddy’s immediate supervisor, found out how quiet I could be, he agreed to have me riding “shotgun” in his vehicle. I was not a Boy Scout yet, but had an early start on adhering to their “Be Prepared” motto, and was traveling with a box of Hi-Ho crackers, and a tube-and-a-spare of coffee flavored Charms. Mr. Kendrick had a very serious demeanor which belied his very kindly nature, and I was more than a little bit intimidated, so it was after a long deliberate debate with myself, whether to sit with my mouth shut, or mind my social graces and inquire if he would like one of my crackers. It was getting very late, and we had been driving in the dark for a long time. At the last pit-stop, the conversation pertained to stopping in Great Falls for the night, and it seemed we were nowhere near there. I ventured a polite, “Mr. Kendrick, would you like a cracker?” I could tell he was reluctant to eat up the kid’s bounty, but he was obviously getting hungry, so he accepted my offer. I didn’t have to say anything after that, but just lean the open box in his direction. Having broken the ice, we shared the rest of the Hi-Hos, with a bit of actual conversation taking place. I felt it wise to follow the “speak when spoken to” rule, and let him initiate the subject matter for the most part, then I offered him a coffee charm. He was new to them, so I told him it was like a square Lifesaver without the hole, that tasted like coffee, with cream and sugar. The man was dying for a cup of coffee, his Thermos long since being depleted. This would be a poor substitute for the real thing, but better than nothing, and just before we depleted the spare roll, we topped a hill and through the falling snow, we could see the glow of the lights of Great Falls, Montana.

Due to the snowstorms, and driving after dark, there was not much scenery that we could appreciate. It was the late ‘50s before I saw a company vehicle with an a.m. radio, so entertainment had to be of one’s own devising. The drivers had more on their list with higher priorities than being entertained, such as keeping their eyes on the road and anticipating what emergency maneuver might be required of them at any moment. I am glad to report that we made the entire trip without incident, no jack-knifed trailers or heading into the ditch, though we did see some mishaps that had happened before we came upon them. When we stopped for fuel, I would get to spend a few moments with Mom and Wes, and say “Hi” to Dad as the vehicles were being gassed up. Usually a candy bar, peanut butter cracker pack, or package of peanuts would be waiting for me with Mom, and she would have a Grapette or Orange Crush for her boys to share. These pit stops were treasured to break the monotony for which there seemed no relief. One did not dare ask,  “How much farther?”, or worse, ”Are we there yet?”

I can illustrate how silly one can get on a trip of this length and duration; including the part from Texas to Tulsa, which was within the same time period, it was over two thousand miles: 2,170! Mother had given me a handful of Kleenex tissues to keep my nose clean, “just in case”, since I would be riding with Mr. Kendrick. Over a four or five day period, I had managed to get them wadded up in the corner of the bottom of my coat pocket. I decided to straighten them up and fold them more neatly in case I needed one in a hurry to thwart a sneeze. At some point in this process, I found myself looking in my hand at something that looked like a miniature ironing board. A toy! I have found a toy! I made it conform more to my liking, and to what an ironing board should be like, and as I was smoothing it, I could imagine myself ironing mine and Wes’ now-obsolete short-sleeved shirts! It’s funny how a simple distraction can make the time, and miles, melt away. Every little bit helps! I can’t help myself; I can’t stand it any more! Are we there yet?

Finally, yes we are there! One of the first service stations we came to, a White Rose brand, looked adequate to handle our patronage, and not expecting to find our client doing business in this community, inquiry was made, and within just a few minutes of arriving, we had someone wanting our business, and our convoy was attracting a lot of attention out on the street. Inside the store that served as office and headquarters for the station, a jolly, plump lady struck up a conversation with Mom, ”And would anyone in your party be needing living quarters for your stay in Red Deer? We have excellent rates for our units with kitchens, by the week or by the month. To accommodate a family of four, it would be as you see right down this drive. Would you like to take a look?” Mom had to go out to the street to tell Dad who was doing show-and-tell for the crowd that had gathered around the Power Wagon and Jeeps, “Smitty, I’m going with this lady to see what their 2-bedroom unit looks like”! It was modest in size, but nicely furnished and it was clean! The kitchen was located at the front of the unit with a view back toward the store through a large window next to the breakfast table. From there we could watch the milkman making his route from a milk-wagon sleigh drawn by a white horse! The bedrooms were in the rear of the unit, and each had a “storm” window, almost frost-free. So that is how we came to be residents of the Motor Court at the White Rose Store and station. The aunt, who had the initial conversation with Mom, was in the top ten friendliest people in Alberta, and an ice hockey fanatic, and never missed a Thursday night game. And she got us started going with her. The proprietor couple had a son, aged between Wes and me who volunteered to show us the shortcut to school, skating down the creek that wound from where we lived, through sparse woods, right to the back of the schoolyard, and on school mornings, it was like a freeway of little skater-scholars!