April 2001                                                           The Megaphone                                                                 Page 5

   Reno, Nevada, and Mary K. Stout [34] learned how to gamble. Having a three year old in tow, we didn't hit the bigger casinos.

    The first thing I noticed about Reno was the filth . . . the dirty kind and then the dirty kind.  The streets were littered with trash. The sidewalks were littered with types of people  never seen in Elwood by this innocent little girl's eyes. Prostitutes, male and female, advertising their wares, you name it and we could see it in an anything goes city of the 1960s.  I had an eyeful! We stayed on the outskirts in what looked like a decent motel. They had slot machines, one armed bandits. We had never seen one before. It didn't take someone long to show us how they worked, in spite of the fact that Mark, my son was with me.

    Mother hit a jackpot in nickels right off. "This is easy. We might as well stay a while. You need a break from driving."  I did all the driving.  She did all the "advising."

    When she quit, she was about $10 ahead. You'd have thought she had won $1,000. She was not happy when I insisted we leave the next day . . . it was the first time in the trip I had gone against her wishes.

    Almost to California, I couldn't wait to get there and on to Guam and David. We had the Sierra Nevada Mountains to maneuver and Donner Pass.  There's a bit of history about Donner Pass.  In the days of the wagon trains, many people were caught in freak snow storms and perished. Mother was worried, I was not. Our troubles were behind us and it had been clear sailing for a couple of days.

    Halfway into the pass we encountered road construction and one lane traffic with several stops.  It was 3:30 on a Friday afternoon. They were widening the road by cutting part of the mountain away. The one lane road was next to the cliff, gulp!!! As our turn came, we proceeded carefully over the bumpy dirt road for about 1 1/2 miles and then we were back on pavement and going faster.  "Whew, glad that's over," I said.

   Moving on, we heard someone honk at us.  A minute later a construction worker waved at us to stop.  I didn't.  Soon, a truck behind was honking.  Finally the truck came up beside my car and motioned me over.  I had no choice but to stop. The man ran out of his truck and said, "Lady, you've got a big gas leak and you're going to run out of gas at any moment and there's no gas around here." I most likely sat there looking dumb.  He continued, "Ya got any chewing gum?"

   I reached for my purse while he's hollering for me to hurry.  This stranger is yelling for gum while gas is running out of my car??? Makes no sense to me. He grabs it out of my hand and starts unwrapping each piece as he talks fast. "Stick this in your mouth and chew.  Hurry, get the sugar out of it."

   Time out . . . picture this.  I'm sitting behind the wheel, a stranger yelling at me to hurry and chew a whole pack of gum all at once.  Mother won't chew any because it will stick to her plate.  The man says he had all his teeth pulled the day before or he'd chew some too.  As I chew he explains, "When you get all the sugar out of it, spit it out into my hand and I will  try to stick it on the hole on the gas tank."  By now another construction man is under the car slowing down the leak and getting gas all over himself and his clothes.

   I peek at the gas gage...EMPTY! I chew faster . . . finally spitting the blob into this stranger's hands as he hands it to the man under the car.  He tells me the closest gas station is 23 miles away and I am to follow him while the man under the car will follow me. Should I run out of gas they will go for gas for me.  Our bumpers don't match so they can't push the car, my most favorite car that we didn't need to buy. Oh my!

   Well, we went slow, it seemed to take forever, and made it to Gold Run, California.

 GOLD RUN, CALIFORNIA, TO TRAVIS AIR FORCE BASE

    Well, we went slow, seeming to take forever, but made it to Gold Run, California, a wide spot in the road, and pulled into a tiny old fashioned gas station.

    The nice construction worker explained to the owner of the station our dilemma and then wishing us the best, left with his buddy. It was 5 p.m. and he was closing and going home to his "dinner." (It's always dinner here in the West.)  He sees no other choice but to stay and begin the work of patching us up so we can continue our journey and he can get to his cold and late dinner.

   We notice the weather is beautiful as we begin our wait, sitting in chairs outside.  I notice for the first time all the surrounding trees...huge pines, barely moving in the breeze.  I can see a few mountain peaks . . . ahhhh . . . God's country.

   Mother and I talk about money.  Well, they've got us over a barrel one of us says, we've no choice but to pay whatever he charges.

    About 20 minutes later a woman drove up in a pick up, gets out and introduces herself as the wife of the mechanic and owner of the station. Seems he had called her explaining why he was going to be late.  She had with her three covered plates of food and sat them down saying, "You must eat something. There's no restaurant in our small village."

   While eating the delicious food that was suppose to be her husband's dinner, we explained where we were going . . . Travis Air Force Base, where I would board a plane for Guam and be reunited with my husband.

   Around 6:30, he came out, wiping his hands and saying he was finished. "I noticed you were low on oil so I added some along with a tank of gas.  I think you can safely make it to your destination."  As I stood I opened my purse to get money. Before I could ask how much, he said, "No charge. It was my honor to help someone in need, on such a long journey."  Flabbergasted, with full tummies and gas tank and more oil, we took our leave promising to send them a postcard from Guam.

   The rest of the trip was uneventful and we arrived at Travis AFB the next day.

   All in due time, my departure date and time arrived and I was looking out the windows on the flight line at one of the largest planes I had ever seen.  Realizing I was going to board that plane and fly across the Pacific Ocean was the most thrilling thing ever to happen to me . . . up to that point.

   Had I known that before we got to Guam, we would be soaking wet with salty sea water, losing all our luggage and literally stranded on a desert island, we, 147 passengers beside Mark and myself, would have thought twice before climbing aboard that fateful bird.  But ignorance is bliss and we practically ran up the steps, almost forgetting to wave at my mother as we went through the door.

    We had stayed the previous night with my Grandmother's brother and now they would put Mother on a train for the journey home.  The car had been left for it's own sea journey to Guam, a free service provided by Uncle Sam for his GIs.

   The airplane was a Canadian Flying Tiger reverse prop jet with four huge engines and four propellers.  There were a crew of six stewardesses and four flight engineers.

   Settling in my seat I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming.  This was my first really big airplane.  I doubt anyone on that plane was more excited than me. Mark had the window seat with me right next to him.

   The first leg of the trip would take us to Honolulu for re-fueling before continuing on. My plan was to meet up with a first cousin for a couple of hours. Her husband was a Marine drill sergeant stationed very close to where I would land.

Julie (Stout) Duffitt '57