We all have seen the old Attitude Question: "Is this glass half full - or is it half empty?" We can look at life the same way. Depending upon where you are in chronological years, "Is your life half full - or it is half empty?"
At the age of 83 years young, many folks would suggest that I am
knocking on the door of eternity - while I prefer to say that I am still
opening doors.
In the late 1960s, I had a business associate who literally broke down and cried - because he had just had his 30th birthday. Give me a break! He was still in mental diapers! At the age of 40 or 50, some folks may think they have already filled up their memory bank. At the young age of 83 I am still making memories - and looking forward to one day being able to share them eternally with friends and loved ones.
The reason for my memory jog? In 2015, my daughter, Cynthia (Cindo), posted a photo taken as she and her husband, Steve, drove the highway from Colorado, through Arizona, on their way to visit family in Las Vegas. That photo gave me a flashback to my very first drive across America in late Fall 1959. The first half, Los Angeles to Albuquerque, I drove on Route 66, the Mother Road linking east and west America in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s.
The Interstate Highway system we take for granted today was only authorized by the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956, and most Interstate Highways took decades to come to fruition. So, in 1959, the main highway across America from Los Angeles to Chicago was Route 66, Main Street USA.
In July 1958 I was discharged from the Air Force and came to Southern California seeking my career in electronics. In the Air Force I had been an Electronic Technician working on the aircraft-based Radar/Weapons Fire Control System (an analog computer) in the F-86F jet fighter. So, naturally my main thought was to extend that experience to working in the field of electronics in civilian life.
Being discharged in Colorado during the recession of 1958 was not the best of timing. Not a job to be found in Denver. We visited with my in-laws, Lester and Grace, for a few days in Denver - and the outcome of that visit changed our lives. My mother-in-law, Grace, had a beauty shop in her basement. While Grace made a customer look nice, Betty and I visited with them. As we were discussing job possibilities, the customer told us, "My son went to Los Angeles and found a job in one week." Betty's sister, Donna, and her husband, Manuel, lived in Los Angeles at that time, so I looked at Betty and asked, "California?"
And the next day Betty, our three girls, and I were on the Union Pacific Streamliner train heading west. Well, sort of west. First we went northwest to Ogden, Utah, on the Union Pacific "City of Denver" Streamliner, where we switched to the Union Pacific "City of Los Angeles" Streamliner.
During our layover in Ogden, I remembered that a friend, Jo Ulmer, was from Ogden. She had been in Denver getting her degree in nursing at the same time that I was in the Air Force Tech School at Lowry AFB. We called her parents' home and was told that Jo had moved to San Jose, California, and was working as an RN in a hospital. Then we were on board the "City of Los Angeles" heading southwest on the last half of our journey to the Wild West of Los Angeles.
We arrived in Los Angeles on my 21st birthday, July 23, 1958. And, one week after arriving in Los Angeles, I began work as a Computer Test Technician for Burroughs Corporation's new commercial computer operation in Pasadena (previously Electrodata Corporation). For about a year, I worked as a Test Technician on the recently introduced Burroughs 220 Computer System, a vacuum tube based main frame computer system which functioned in milliseconds and cost four million dollars. Obviously not a home computer.
Then I transferred into Field Engineering, went through months of additional training - and was assigned to work on the newly installed Burroughs 220 computer system at the Norfolk Naval Supply Depot in Norfolk, Virginia. Thus began our odyssey across America by car. At the time, my family and I were living in Sun Valley, California. The company arranged for Bekins Van Lines movers to come, pack, and take our belongings - except what we would take in our 1956 Buick Century station wagon. Then we were ready to start our adventure across this beautiful land called America.
Our first stop was at the local Bank of America in Sun Valley to close our bank account. In those days they did not have a nationwide banking network. So, we had to close our account in Sun Valley and wait until we arrived in Norfolk to open a new account. The movers had taken our belongings in the moving van; we had closed our bank account; and now we began driving toward San Bernardino on Route 66 (which at that time was Foothill Boulevard). I looked at my wife, Betty, and told her, "Do you realize that until we get to Norfolk - our only home is this car?"
It was exciting and a wee bit unnerving. It was like we were retracing the steps of those pioneers who had crossed America to find homes in the West. But, we were heading in the opposite direction - and in a bit more comfort. We were traveling in our 1956 Buick Century station wagon and on a generous company expense account.
The company only expected us to drive 500 miles a day, five days a week. So, counting weekends and accrued vacation, we had almost a month of company expensed travel, on full salary, to drive across the country, zig-zagging to visit family as we traveled. Sweet.
Thus we began our eastward trek. After all our preparations were done, as we were driving toward San Bernardino we decided to stop for our last California meal at Clifton's Cafeteria in West Covina, California. Then, on through San Bernardino, heading toward Arizona. Eastward Ho!
How well I remember that very first drive
through Arizona. Fall of 1959, we drove from Southern
California, through Flagstaff, Arizona, to Albuquerque on
Route 66. Then in Albuquerque we turned north toward Denver. One thing
that amazed me as I drove was that, in those days, Route 66
through Arizona had a reddish color, as though there was a
mixture of red clay in the asphalt. I found it to be
aesthetically very beautiful. That image has stayed in my
mind all these years.
For me, the most precious memories of the trip across country are the family moments. Since the Buick station wagon was very spacious we put the back seat down, covered the space with blankets and padding - and the girls had a mobile play room. During the day, they had their toys and games to entertain themselves. In the evenings when we would sometimes drive later, they would put on their pajamas and the play room became their bedroom where they could play until they fell asleep. Then when we stopped in a hotel or motel, we just transferred them into their own room adjoining our room. Yes, this was long before we were aware of the need for seat belts.
Several instances that always stays in my mind happened three years later when we were driving back to California taking the northern routes U.S. 50/U.S. 40 from Virginia to Denver. Then, out of Denver on U.S. 6/U.S. 40 through western Colorado into Utah (now I-70), then picking up U.S. 91 south (now I-15) through Las Vegas to Southern California.
Stopping in Las Vegas for a couple of days, we stayed at what was then The Fabulous Flamingo Hotel and Casino. At that time, lounge shows in Vegas were free, just buy a cocktail in the lounge and enjoy the show. The first night we were at the Flamingo, the lounge entertainment was the Benny Goodman Orchestra. Yes, we got to see Benny Goodman for the price of one cocktail. And, the next morning sitting in the restaurant for breakfast, in a plush red leather booth, we had a full view of the swimming pool area. What you have heard is true - the Flamingo, which was Las Vegas' first luxury hotel/casino was truly fabulous.
On this return trip to California, we had a new 1961 Chevrolet Corvair station wagon, so the girls could travel in comfort. One evening, as we were driving west, Cynthia wanted to come up front and sit with us. She was sitting between her mom and me - and was mesmerized by the full moon - especially how it moved from one side of the highway to the other side. Wow, who moved the moon? I did not want to burst her bubble by telling her that it was because the highway curved.
Another memory of that westward trip which has stayed vividly in my memory was driving through the Midwest corn country. For miles we drove beside a green wall of corn. It was at least eight foot tall and seemed to go on forever. Fields of corn like this, with their tall majestic green stalks have long been one of America's great resources. Today I can still see that image of the green wall of corn in my mind.
Back to driving east, some evenings we drove into the later hours - while on other days we chose to stop early and have a family evening. At times we stopped in motels with heated swimming pools so the girls could relax and play in the pool. Other evenings we would stop early, get all dressed up, and go to a nice restaurant for dinner. On these evenings in restaurants, one thing stands out in my memory - so many people commented on how well behaved our girls were during dinner.
In our leisure drive across America, we had the option of stopping where and when we wanted, expense no real concern. Toward evening we would begin to look for a nice motel in one of the many towns, large and small, we were passing through. We made it a habit to see the rooms before signing the register. At one such stop in a Midwestern state, from the outside the motel looked very nice. But when we saw the rooms we decided to move on down the highway.
As we were driving out of the motel driveway, the manager was literally running after us - lowering the room price with each step. What she evidently did not realize was that it was not the price of the room which bothered us, but the condition of the room. I wanted my family to be able to sleep peacefully in a clean comfortable room. So, on down the road to the next motel.
After traveling east on Route 66 to Albuquerque, we turned north toward Denver on U.S. 85, now Interstate 25. Driving north toward the New Mexico and Colorado border took us through a number of small towns: Las Vegas, Wagon Mound, Raton, etc., and in one, I believe it was Wagon Mound, we found the town so interesting that we decided to stop at a Drug Store soda fountain for a mid-afternoon ice cream soda.
An interesting side note about Wagon Mound: Some years later, I worked at Ramo Wooldridge (later TRW) with a programmer who was from Wagon Mound, New Mexico - and I went with her to a party at her brother's home in Southern California. There were about a dozen people at the party, all except me were from the small town of Wagon Mound, New Mexico - and they all were professionals with college degrees.
My co-worker who took me to the party had a degree in mathematics from New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology, that state's equivalent of Cal Tech. Meeting those people and seeing what they had accomplished told me that the people who grew up in that small, seemingly impoverished town, were a special breed. They had what would have been called in earlier years, that special pioneer spirit.
We stopped for a few days in Denver to visit Betty's parents, Grace & Lester. After our visit in Denver, we continued traveling east on U. S. 40 across Kansas (later to be replaced by Interstate 70) to visit with Betty's brother, Joe, who was a sergeant stationed in the Army at Fort Riley, Kansas.
Then, we headed south from Kansas City, through Memphis into north Alabama to spend time with my family in Sheffield, Alabama.
After a week in Alabama, we drove north to establish our new home in Norfolk, Virginia. That was my first experience driving across America. Such an adventure, like your first love, stays forever in your memory. Over the years, I have crossed America many times. I have driven the Interstates - crossed by bus and train - and flown many times. But none could ever be as special as that first time driving across Route 66.
Driving across America then was really seeing the beauty of America. It is an experience I will never forget. Then, and today, when I hear the song "America, The Beautiful" - I think I can relate to the lady who wrote this amazing description of our homeland, America:
In the summer of 1893, Katharine Lee Bates, a 33-year-old English professor at Wellesley College, traveled from her home in Massachusetts to Colorado, where she would spend the summer teaching. As she traveled across America by train, she was in awe of the sights - the spacious skies, purple mountains, alabaster cities, and amber waves of grain she would later immortalize in song - and she was inspired by their beauty. Later, after hiking to the top of Pikes Peak with friends and seeing that amazing sight, she penned the first draft of her lyrics.
Driving across America from California to Virginia in the Fall of 1959, and then coming back again three years later - like Katharine Lee Bates, we experienced America in a way that can never be done driving the Interstates or flying.
As we drove across America in 1959, and again three years later, we were able to really enjoy seeing America, small town America. And, in those days there were many icons of the road which no long exist today. There were the Burma Shave Signs to keep us entertained. In the 1930s to the early 1960s, Burma Shave signs were a fun diversion when driving.
They were usually red signs planted by the road side about every half mile. Each sign carried a part of a jingle - with the last sign advertising Burma Shave. Here are examples of the hundreds of Burma Shave sign groups along the highway. When we saw the first one, our eyes began searching the roadside for the next piece of the jingle:
Then, there were the Howard Johnson Motel and Restaurants, a recognizable haven of rest for the weary travelers. While there were many motels and hotels dotting the highways across America - one of the most recognizable was the red roof of the HoJo's motels and restaurants.
And don't even think of driving past a Stuckey's Candy store without stopping. Time for a sweet tooth rest stop.
If I bored you with my travelogue down memory lane, please forgive me. For me it has been a labor of love - for it is an America we will never experience again.
God bless, have a wonderful, blessed day,
Bill
In the late 1960s, I had a business associate who literally broke down and cried - because he had just had his 30th birthday. Give me a break! He was still in mental diapers! At the age of 40 or 50, some folks may think they have already filled up their memory bank. At the young age of 83 I am still making memories - and looking forward to one day being able to share them eternally with friends and loved ones.
The reason for my memory jog? In 2015, my daughter, Cynthia (Cindo), posted a photo taken as she and her husband, Steve, drove the highway from Colorado, through Arizona, on their way to visit family in Las Vegas. That photo gave me a flashback to my very first drive across America in late Fall 1959. The first half, Los Angeles to Albuquerque, I drove on Route 66, the Mother Road linking east and west America in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s.
The Interstate Highway system we take for granted today was only authorized by the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956, and most Interstate Highways took decades to come to fruition. So, in 1959, the main highway across America from Los Angeles to Chicago was Route 66, Main Street USA.
In July 1958 I was discharged from the Air Force and came to Southern California seeking my career in electronics. In the Air Force I had been an Electronic Technician working on the aircraft-based Radar/Weapons Fire Control System (an analog computer) in the F-86F jet fighter. So, naturally my main thought was to extend that experience to working in the field of electronics in civilian life.
Being discharged in Colorado during the recession of 1958 was not the best of timing. Not a job to be found in Denver. We visited with my in-laws, Lester and Grace, for a few days in Denver - and the outcome of that visit changed our lives. My mother-in-law, Grace, had a beauty shop in her basement. While Grace made a customer look nice, Betty and I visited with them. As we were discussing job possibilities, the customer told us, "My son went to Los Angeles and found a job in one week." Betty's sister, Donna, and her husband, Manuel, lived in Los Angeles at that time, so I looked at Betty and asked, "California?"
And the next day Betty, our three girls, and I were on the Union Pacific Streamliner train heading west. Well, sort of west. First we went northwest to Ogden, Utah, on the Union Pacific "City of Denver" Streamliner, where we switched to the Union Pacific "City of Los Angeles" Streamliner.
During our layover in Ogden, I remembered that a friend, Jo Ulmer, was from Ogden. She had been in Denver getting her degree in nursing at the same time that I was in the Air Force Tech School at Lowry AFB. We called her parents' home and was told that Jo had moved to San Jose, California, and was working as an RN in a hospital. Then we were on board the "City of Los Angeles" heading southwest on the last half of our journey to the Wild West of Los Angeles.
We arrived in Los Angeles on my 21st birthday, July 23, 1958. And, one week after arriving in Los Angeles, I began work as a Computer Test Technician for Burroughs Corporation's new commercial computer operation in Pasadena (previously Electrodata Corporation). For about a year, I worked as a Test Technician on the recently introduced Burroughs 220 Computer System, a vacuum tube based main frame computer system which functioned in milliseconds and cost four million dollars. Obviously not a home computer.
Then I transferred into Field Engineering, went through months of additional training - and was assigned to work on the newly installed Burroughs 220 computer system at the Norfolk Naval Supply Depot in Norfolk, Virginia. Thus began our odyssey across America by car. At the time, my family and I were living in Sun Valley, California. The company arranged for Bekins Van Lines movers to come, pack, and take our belongings - except what we would take in our 1956 Buick Century station wagon. Then we were ready to start our adventure across this beautiful land called America.
Our first stop was at the local Bank of America in Sun Valley to close our bank account. In those days they did not have a nationwide banking network. So, we had to close our account in Sun Valley and wait until we arrived in Norfolk to open a new account. The movers had taken our belongings in the moving van; we had closed our bank account; and now we began driving toward San Bernardino on Route 66 (which at that time was Foothill Boulevard). I looked at my wife, Betty, and told her, "Do you realize that until we get to Norfolk - our only home is this car?"
It was exciting and a wee bit unnerving. It was like we were retracing the steps of those pioneers who had crossed America to find homes in the West. But, we were heading in the opposite direction - and in a bit more comfort. We were traveling in our 1956 Buick Century station wagon and on a generous company expense account.
The company only expected us to drive 500 miles a day, five days a week. So, counting weekends and accrued vacation, we had almost a month of company expensed travel, on full salary, to drive across the country, zig-zagging to visit family as we traveled. Sweet.
Thus we began our eastward trek. After all our preparations were done, as we were driving toward San Bernardino we decided to stop for our last California meal at Clifton's Cafeteria in West Covina, California. Then, on through San Bernardino, heading toward Arizona. Eastward Ho!
For me, the most precious memories of the trip across country are the family moments. Since the Buick station wagon was very spacious we put the back seat down, covered the space with blankets and padding - and the girls had a mobile play room. During the day, they had their toys and games to entertain themselves. In the evenings when we would sometimes drive later, they would put on their pajamas and the play room became their bedroom where they could play until they fell asleep. Then when we stopped in a hotel or motel, we just transferred them into their own room adjoining our room. Yes, this was long before we were aware of the need for seat belts.
Several instances that always stays in my mind happened three years later when we were driving back to California taking the northern routes U.S. 50/U.S. 40 from Virginia to Denver. Then, out of Denver on U.S. 6/U.S. 40 through western Colorado into Utah (now I-70), then picking up U.S. 91 south (now I-15) through Las Vegas to Southern California.
Stopping in Las Vegas for a couple of days, we stayed at what was then The Fabulous Flamingo Hotel and Casino. At that time, lounge shows in Vegas were free, just buy a cocktail in the lounge and enjoy the show. The first night we were at the Flamingo, the lounge entertainment was the Benny Goodman Orchestra. Yes, we got to see Benny Goodman for the price of one cocktail. And, the next morning sitting in the restaurant for breakfast, in a plush red leather booth, we had a full view of the swimming pool area. What you have heard is true - the Flamingo, which was Las Vegas' first luxury hotel/casino was truly fabulous.
On this return trip to California, we had a new 1961 Chevrolet Corvair station wagon, so the girls could travel in comfort. One evening, as we were driving west, Cynthia wanted to come up front and sit with us. She was sitting between her mom and me - and was mesmerized by the full moon - especially how it moved from one side of the highway to the other side. Wow, who moved the moon? I did not want to burst her bubble by telling her that it was because the highway curved.
Another memory of that westward trip which has stayed vividly in my memory was driving through the Midwest corn country. For miles we drove beside a green wall of corn. It was at least eight foot tall and seemed to go on forever. Fields of corn like this, with their tall majestic green stalks have long been one of America's great resources. Today I can still see that image of the green wall of corn in my mind.
Back to driving east, some evenings we drove into the later hours - while on other days we chose to stop early and have a family evening. At times we stopped in motels with heated swimming pools so the girls could relax and play in the pool. Other evenings we would stop early, get all dressed up, and go to a nice restaurant for dinner. On these evenings in restaurants, one thing stands out in my memory - so many people commented on how well behaved our girls were during dinner.
In our leisure drive across America, we had the option of stopping where and when we wanted, expense no real concern. Toward evening we would begin to look for a nice motel in one of the many towns, large and small, we were passing through. We made it a habit to see the rooms before signing the register. At one such stop in a Midwestern state, from the outside the motel looked very nice. But when we saw the rooms we decided to move on down the highway.
As we were driving out of the motel driveway, the manager was literally running after us - lowering the room price with each step. What she evidently did not realize was that it was not the price of the room which bothered us, but the condition of the room. I wanted my family to be able to sleep peacefully in a clean comfortable room. So, on down the road to the next motel.
After traveling east on Route 66 to Albuquerque, we turned north toward Denver on U.S. 85, now Interstate 25. Driving north toward the New Mexico and Colorado border took us through a number of small towns: Las Vegas, Wagon Mound, Raton, etc., and in one, I believe it was Wagon Mound, we found the town so interesting that we decided to stop at a Drug Store soda fountain for a mid-afternoon ice cream soda.
An interesting side note about Wagon Mound: Some years later, I worked at Ramo Wooldridge (later TRW) with a programmer who was from Wagon Mound, New Mexico - and I went with her to a party at her brother's home in Southern California. There were about a dozen people at the party, all except me were from the small town of Wagon Mound, New Mexico - and they all were professionals with college degrees.
My co-worker who took me to the party had a degree in mathematics from New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology, that state's equivalent of Cal Tech. Meeting those people and seeing what they had accomplished told me that the people who grew up in that small, seemingly impoverished town, were a special breed. They had what would have been called in earlier years, that special pioneer spirit.
We stopped for a few days in Denver to visit Betty's parents, Grace & Lester. After our visit in Denver, we continued traveling east on U. S. 40 across Kansas (later to be replaced by Interstate 70) to visit with Betty's brother, Joe, who was a sergeant stationed in the Army at Fort Riley, Kansas.
Then, we headed south from Kansas City, through Memphis into north Alabama to spend time with my family in Sheffield, Alabama.
After a week in Alabama, we drove north to establish our new home in Norfolk, Virginia. That was my first experience driving across America. Such an adventure, like your first love, stays forever in your memory. Over the years, I have crossed America many times. I have driven the Interstates - crossed by bus and train - and flown many times. But none could ever be as special as that first time driving across Route 66.
Driving across America then was really seeing the beauty of America. It is an experience I will never forget. Then, and today, when I hear the song "America, The Beautiful" - I think I can relate to the lady who wrote this amazing description of our homeland, America:
"O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed His grace on thee, And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea! . . . O Beautiful for patriot dream That sees beyond the years, Thine alabaster cities gleam, Undimmed by human tears! America! America! God shed His grace on thee, And crown thy good with brotherhood, From sea to shining sea!" (America, The Beautiful Lyrics - by Katharine Lee Bates - 1913)
In the summer of 1893, Katharine Lee Bates, a 33-year-old English professor at Wellesley College, traveled from her home in Massachusetts to Colorado, where she would spend the summer teaching. As she traveled across America by train, she was in awe of the sights - the spacious skies, purple mountains, alabaster cities, and amber waves of grain she would later immortalize in song - and she was inspired by their beauty. Later, after hiking to the top of Pikes Peak with friends and seeing that amazing sight, she penned the first draft of her lyrics.
Driving across America from California to Virginia in the Fall of 1959, and then coming back again three years later - like Katharine Lee Bates, we experienced America in a way that can never be done driving the Interstates or flying.
As we drove across America in 1959, and again three years later, we were able to really enjoy seeing America, small town America. And, in those days there were many icons of the road which no long exist today. There were the Burma Shave Signs to keep us entertained. In the 1930s to the early 1960s, Burma Shave signs were a fun diversion when driving.
They were usually red signs planted by the road side about every half mile. Each sign carried a part of a jingle - with the last sign advertising Burma Shave. Here are examples of the hundreds of Burma Shave sign groups along the highway. When we saw the first one, our eyes began searching the roadside for the next piece of the jingle:
Many a forest - Used to stand - Where a lighted match - Got out of hand - Burma Shave
Past school houses - Take it slow - Let the little - Shavers grow - Burma Shave
On curves ahead - Remember, sonny - That rabbit's foot - Didn't save - The bunny - Burma-Shave
Violets are blue - Roses are pink - On graves - Of those - Who drive and drink - Burma-Shave
Then, there were the Howard Johnson Motel and Restaurants, a recognizable haven of rest for the weary travelers. While there were many motels and hotels dotting the highways across America - one of the most recognizable was the red roof of the HoJo's motels and restaurants.
And don't even think of driving past a Stuckey's Candy store without stopping. Time for a sweet tooth rest stop.
If I bored you with my travelogue down memory lane, please forgive me. For me it has been a labor of love - for it is an America we will never experience again.
God bless, have a wonderful, blessed day,
Bill
Click on the image to enlarge:
