When my husband, Ernie, was in the Army, stationed in California, I received a telegram saying, "stationed here permanently. Come on out." Since he thought he was on the way to the South Pacific, I kept my job and apartment in Columbia, South Carolina. First, I gave notice on my job that I would be leaving. Next, I started looking for someone to sub-let the apartment. This happened quickly, as I had a friend who needed a place to stay. Then I advertized in the newspaper for a female who would share the driving with me. This was more difficult. After several unsatisfactory responses, I was fortunate to be contacted by a mature lady, recently widowed, who my parents knew. After meeting, we agreed to set out on a sightseeing trip to the West Coast...
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Our second day on the road we experienced heavy rain. With my companion driving, we got into a 180-degree skid and landed in the ditch. Neither of us was hurt and although the car had to be pulled out by a wrecker, it sustained no damages. From then on for the next eight days, I did all the driving. The car was my husband's 1935 Ford V8 convertible with a rumble seat. (Seniors: Remember rumble seats?)
Our sightseeing stops included the Grand Canyon, the Boulder Dam (now the Hoover Dam), the Petrified Forest and Carlsbad Caverns. They were magnificent! I only wished that I could have been seeing them with Ernie.
One evening in a western state as we got to a stopping place, we didn't see many tourist facilities but finally registered at a small hotel and had a room at the top of the stairs. It was a pretty shabby place and we didn't feel very secure so we pushed a chest of drawers against the locked door. After hearing much traffic on the stairs and sounds of inebriated customers, my wise companion said we needed to get out of there. In short order we gathered our belongings and informed the desk clerk that we would not be staying. Thank goodness for my older companion who could be assertive in a way I could not. We then saw people coming out of church and asked a couple for a suggestion of a place to stay. They recommended a nice hotel, which we had not seen and informed us that the one we had been in, was frequented by "ladies of the night". A reminder: This was before the days of motels, except for a chain getting started around that time named Alamo Plaza, I think.
As we neared California, I sent a postcard (or a telegram...I can't remember which) giving Ernie our estimated time of arrival but found out later that it got there after we arrived. We got to his base and I expected the guard at the gate to have a message for me but there was no message. Can you imagine trying to find someone on a large Army base? After many inquiries and help, I located him at his barracks. What should have been a wonderful reunion was tempered by his anxiety because of not hearing from me and my irritation over not having a message from him at the front gate. Of course, it didn't take long for us to be overjoyed to be together after many months of separation.
We traveled to a town named Rodeo where Ernie had rented an apartment in a Contra Costa County apartment complex. Many other military couples lived there, including Elois and Walter Schmidt from Jackson, Mississippi. Ernie had made friends with them and we enjoyed doing things together the whole time we were in California. Walter and Ernie and others carpooled to the base each day.
To complete my cross-country saga, we took my traveling companion to meet friends with whom she would visit before continuing her trip to other places in the West. All in all, it was a good experience. And the best part was being reunited with Ernie.
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