The Summer of 1958

            The summer of 1958 was one of the longest summers mom ever endured.  It turned into a never ending succession of driving up to the mountains, struggling with little children camping in a tent in the rain, and driving back to Mesa to pick up mail and food, just to turn around and drive back up to the mountains again.  Because dad was a school teacher, they had the whole summer to work on the cabin.

            They drove back and forth in an old pick-up truck.  In those days there were no such things as seat belts, let alone car seats, so the kids climbed over and under everything.  It was a long drive to the cabin, and hard for such little kids to sit still for long.  To add to the discomfort, it was hot.  Automobile air-conditioners hadn’t been invented yet, and it felt like you were sitting in a sauna, sweating and steaming.  The only way to survive was to drive with the windows open, but that was sometimes just as bad as sweating, because it whipped your hair into your eyes, blew everything around in the cab of the truck, and made it so noisy you couldn’t hear yourself think.

            One early morning, before the heat had time to build up, they started up to the mountains.  Gale had a cute little toy to play with.  She was standing on the seat next to the door, and dropped the toy out the half open window. Gale started to cry and mom looked out the window to see the little toy laying beside the road.

            “Ralph, stop the truck!”  mom exclaimed in horror.  So dad slowed down and stopped.   After checking to make sure no cars were coming, he made a u-turn and drove back up the road until they found the little toy lying in the gravel. Dad made another u-turn and mom got out to pick up the toy.  She gave it to Gale, and they started down the road again.

            This time mom put Gale between dad and herself, and Keith by the window.  Gale wiggled and squirmed until mom finally put her down on the floor of the truck, where she began playing with Keith.  Mom and dad were talking, and before they knew it, Gale was on the seat by the door again, hanging her toy out of the window.  Mom realized it just as the wind whipped the toy from Gale’s hand and she watched as it fell behind the speeding truck.  “Stop!” mom exclaimed.  “Gale’s dropped her toy again.”

            This time dad slowed down and stopped, but he wasn’t as quick about turning around.

            “If we keep on turning back we’ll never get there,” he grumbled, but mom insisted they go back for the toy, it was such a cute little thing.  Finally, dad turned the truck around and they drove back down the road until they found the toy, this time laying in a bunch of weeds at the side of the road.  It wasn’t as new and pretty looking as it had been, but Gale was still excited when it was put back in her hands.

            “Close the window so she doesn’t drop it again.  Next time I’m not going back for it,” dad declared. 

            Mom rolled the window up, but it was stifling in the old pick up with the sun beating through the window.  Dad didn’t have it so bad, because his window was open, and the sun wasn’t shining on him.  Mom endured it as long as she could, but she was hot, tired and cross, so she finally cracked the window just enough to let a little breeze in.  It helped, but not enough.  After a while, she rolled it down a few more inches.  By this time, Gale was playing on the floor of the truck with her toy, so mom focused her attention on helping Keith get a drink of water.  Suddenly she realized that Gale was again standing on the seat wailing.   The toy was nowhere in sight.  “Oh, no,” mom cried.  “She’s dropped it again!

            “Well, we’re not going back for it,” dad stated flatly.  “I told you if she dropped it any more we would leave it behind.”  Mom pleaded and Gale and Keith cried, but it did no good.  Dad was determined to get to the mountains, come heck or high water.