Hitchhikers catch up on long-ago adventure
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By Bill Wundram | Wednesday, September 17, 2008 |
Once upon a long time ago, hitchhiking was a semi-respectable way of getting from here to there. Travelers stuck out their thumbs and hoped for a ride. Regularly, they got that ride from a sympathetic motorist or a kindly truck driver.
Just ask Clarion Johnson, 80, a retired Moline pharmacist, about the open road when hitchhikers were usually considered morally safe and sound passengers. “Thumbing,” it was called.
Sixty-two years ago, Clarion and a pal named Vernon Salzman hitchhiked around America, getting in all the silliest, dangerous spots that could happen to two kids on the open road.
Clarion always wondered whatever happened to his thumbing pal. Through the magic of the Internet, he found Vernon in Fort Worth, Texas. This week, they talked on the phone.
“Who is this?” asked Vernon, a retired aeronautical engineer.
“It’s me, your old hitchhiking buddy,” answered Clarion.
“It can’t be. We haven’t seen each other since 1946.”
THEY’LL MEET next month in Fort Worth, sharing stories of sticking out their thumbs on windy highways. Clarion was a callow youth of 17, Vernon was a dewy-faced lad of 16 when they sat on a porch in Ottawa, Ill., and dreamed of hitchhiking across America. Clarion remembers, “Our parents thought it was just a bunch of kid talk but they allowed us to go, with a letter from the sheriff saying that we were honorable young men.
“We had a 20-by-30-inch suitcase, with the word ‘Calif’ spelled out in adhesive tape on the side. That way, drivers would know where we wanted to go,” says Clarion. “I had $75; Vernon, $60. The war was just over, so we wore khakis and had some kind of military school caps. Drivers thought we were ex-servicemen, but we never pretended to be.”
Confidently, the two carefree kids left Ottawa, thumbing to California. They got their first ride — a measly 16 miles to LaSalle, Ill. Next ride took them to Des Moines. In Omaha, they spent a night on the floor of a friend’s house.
They bedded down in churches, sleeping on hard pews. They slouched in sleep in bus stations. Once, they bunked in a freight car with a bunch of gandy dancers (rail-laying crews).
“On the road, drivers trusted us. We looked like two nice young guys. We’d clean up every morning in some gas station restroom.”
Clarion is a non-stop story teller who could write a book about two teens and their hitchhiking exploits. Once, a driver pulled a .45 revolver and put it on the seat. “He didn’t mean harm. Guess he just wanted to show it to us.” Another time, when they changed their ride’s flat tire, he gave each of them a silver dollar.
“It’s not easy to believe, but we safely hitchhiked for five weeks and saw everything from California and Texas and south to Florida. Then, up to New England and into Canada before hitchhiking back home to Ottawa. Times were different. People could be trusted. They trusted a couple young punks like us.”
The two were tightwads in their travels. They budgeted 25 cents for breakfast, 50 cents for lunch and 25 cents for supper.
“Believe it or not,” I came home with $10 left in my pocket,” says Clarion.
After his journey, Clarion joined the service for 2½ years. He enrolled in Purdue, got a degree in pharmacy and worked at various places around the Quad-Cities.
Would he ever think of hitchhiking again today?
Clarion answers: “Are you kidding? It’s too dangerous.”
Bill Wundram can be contacted at (563) 383-2249 or bwundram@qctimes.com.
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