ROUTE 66

ROUTE 66
Does Route 66 ring a bell with you older readers? It sure does with me! First of all I can never remember whether it is pronounced “Rute” or “Row(l)t”? A couple of days ago, The Wall Street Journal ran an article on this famous and well traveled - two-lane highway.
The article was very interesting to me, because I have driven on that highway, four times - either all the way, or a portion of the route. Many of you are familiar with the larger cities en-route from Chicago to Los Angeles (2451 miles), repeated in Glenn Miller’s popular recording of “Get Your Kicks on Route 66” - Chicago, St. Louis, Oklahoma City, Amarillo, Gallup, Flagstaff, Winona, Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino and L.A.
The first time that I drove the route was during January, 1944. I had been stationed at Atlantic City for R&R after returning from combat. I was assigned to pilot training, and had to report to the Training Center at Santa Ana. I asked my Mother to ride along, and she accepted.
My next time driving the route was after I had finished my pilot training at Douglas, (AZ). This was January 1945. I asked a classmate from Detroit, Walt McGreevy, to ride along with me to our next station at Columbia, SC.
The next ride on Highway 66 was with Marie, who had joined me in Columbia at her break from Mills College. It was May, 1945, when we left Greenville SC for California.
The fourth time was in December 1945, when Marie and I drove from California back To Ypsilanti, Michigan, where my parents lived. I entered the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and Marie supported us by doing secretarial work at Kaiser -Frazer auto company at Willow Run. (See below for our experience on this trip)
Our fifth trip was from Ypsilanti to California in May of 1947. By then, we had traded in our Chevrolet convertible for a Kaiser (Marie got a 20 percent employee discount). We traveled the Northern route from Michigan to California this time.
There was an additional cross country trip for us. In the spring of 1952, we headed back to Montgomery, Alabama. I had been re-called during the Korean War, and had been assigned to go to the Air Command and Staff School at Maxwell Field. By this time, we had traded in our ‘47 Kaiser for a ‘52 Chevrolet coupe - just before we left Sacramento. This trip, we had an additional passenger - Anne, our first born. She was about six months old when we left. We celebrated her first birthday in New Orleans on our return trip. I fixed a wooden platform to rest on the floor between the back of the front seat and the front of the rear seat. Then, I placed her crib mattress on the frame. It’s surface was then level with the back seat. She really enjoyed the freedom to move around, and she was safe. Fortunately, there was no seat belt law back in 1952. We drove back on the Southern route from Montgomery to Sacramento.
My memory is a little vague on these trips over 60 years ago. There are a few memories that I will never forget:
We usually drove 200-300 miles per day, so we stayed at a few motels and small hotels along the way. We set $6 as the maximum that we would pay per night. We found that we could get a pretty nice place for that amount. One day we decided to drive beyond five o’clock. It was dark when we finally decided to stop for the night. The first place had a rate of $9! I suspect that they had a lower rate for the earlier check-ins. Marie wanted to keep going. She wanted to drive on, to find a cheaper place. I did all of the driving although she was a good driver, I was “beat”, and talked her into staying there.
On another trip, we were also driving late on a Saturday night. We stopped at a small place, on the outskirts of a small town, to inquire about a room. I remember sitting at the bar, drinking hot chocolates, while negotiating for a room. The bar tender said that he didn’t have a room right then, but if we would hang around for a little while, he would have one available. There was a short pause, and then Marie asked me, “If he doesn’t have a room now, how will he have one later?” I whispered in her ear that “the pillows will be warm”. It took her a little while to figure out what was going on. She was so upset that she grabbed me and said, “Come on we are getting out of here!”.
So we drove on, and it was getting quite late. We pulled into a small town, and it was about midnight. The only place that we could find open was a very small hotel right next to the railway station. They had a room on the second floor, and we took it. We were glad that we finally found a place. I can still see that old bed with the decorative cast- iron at the head and foot of the bed. The toilet was down the hall! We were tired. We didn’t any more get to sleep, when we were awakened by the noise of a switch engine down below. Finally, back to sleep again. Then, we must have been on the mainline of the railroad. Trains - both passenger and freight ran all night. The hotel was so close to the tracks, that the bed shook a little from the vibrations of the trains as they sped through. I like trains, and have ridden them for thousands of miles. (My Dad worked for the New York Central Railroad.) But, I was in no mood for them that night. This experience, was during WWII. The locomotives back then, were steam powered. The steam-powered whistles had a unique sound, and I always enjoyed hearing them. But, not that night (morning!). I still haven’t gotten used to the blowing horns on the modern diesel-electric engines of today. I think we paid $4 for that night of torture.
Another vivid experience happened in Gallup, in December 1945. I had just returned to Long Beach from Okinawa (via Fort Lawton, Washington - after 19 days on a Liberty ship. - but that is another long story! We were on our way back to Michigan for Christmas. We were driving my 1941 Chevrolet convertible. It was snowing, and the temperature was 20 below zero. Have you ever ridden - on red leather -seats, at that temperature - in a convertible, with an inoperative heater? If not, you haven’t lived! Marie started crying she was so cold. She asked me to turn back She wanted to go back to California!
I was able to calm Marie down by telling her that it would get warmer as we drove eastward. We continued on in to Gallup. It was about 6 o’clock and dark. Servicemen are taught to contact the USO (United Service Organizations) when we need help. The organization manned desks in train stations, bus depots and airports. As it happened, the Gallup railway station was along main street as we entered Gallup. So, we parked and went in. I talked to the lady at the desk, and asked her about a motel. She told me there wasn’t a room available in town. Both the East and West transcontinental trains were snowbound at the station. I can’t remember whether both trains belonged to the Southern Pacific or the Santa Fe, or to each company. All the rooms in town were taken by the stranded train passengers. She was very nice and accommodating. She said that she would call her friend and ask her if she would provide a bedroom for us. Her friend said O.K. and told her to send us up. Boy! What a relief! She gave us directions, and I thanked her “Very Much!” Parking at the lady’s house was difficult because of the large snow drifts on each side of the road. Our hostess greeted us, and welcomed us in.
Marie and I were really cold! Our California clothing didn’t provide much warmth. I remember the two of us standing near the floor register for quite some time. Then the nice lady made some cocoa for us. It was the best hot chocolate that I have ever had. One person CAN make a difference!
The next morning I drove the car down to a garage to have the thermostat replaced. Of course he was very busy, fixing other cars. The car was ready about noon. I went back to the house and picked up Marie. We thanked the kind lady (I don’t remember her charging us) and we were off, once again, on Route 66. This was the last time that I traveled this highway.
Ray L’Amoreaux
January 12, 2010.