My Trip Had A Hitch...

During the summer break from college in 1954, I sold Bibles door to door in Dallas. Since I did not have a car, I did a lot of hitchhiking which was considered safe in those days.

Soon the summer passed and it was time to go home. My parents lived on Voth Road (now Concord Road) at Redwood Drive in Beaumont. This was just a few blocks from 11th Street near the Minglewood Addition.

I began hitchhiking home one morning about 10 o’clock. My intentions were to travel south on US 75 to Houston and then head over to Beaumont on US 90. The Interstate highway system did not yet exist. The first car that picked me up went to Ennis. It was there that I decided to take US 287 right into Beaumont thinking it would be quicker.

The next car that picked me up went for about ten miles then let me out as the driver needed to turn onto another road. Then I caught a ride with a car that went all of fifteen miles. Then I got a ride that lasted about 12 miles.

It dawned on me that the people driving on highway 287 were not traveling very far. They were making more local-type runs. It took seventeen separate vehicles to reach Beaumont. Three of those rides are unforgettable.

One of those three was a route delivery man taking bread to area country stores. He said, “I’ll give you a lift but you will have to make my stops with me on my route.” I agreed and climbed aboard his bread van. Soon he turned off of the highway and made his way down a country road to a small grocery store. He carried some bread into the store. Then we drove to another little store and went through the same routine. It became apparent to me that I was not getting anywhere. The next time he got to the highway, I thanked him and told him I thought I’d try to find a ride that was going on through the area.

The next memorable moment happened when an old couple driving a pickup stopped. There were only two seats in the pickup so I had to ride in the back with a bunch of loaded down feed sacks. I leaned up against the sacks as I was fairly close to the open tailgate and did not want to fall out of the truck. Those sacks smelled pretty strong and I recall thinking, “That feed sure must have a lot of chemicals.”

Eventually the couple had to turn off so they stopped to let me out. I told them, “Thanks and by the way, what’s in those feed sacks?” The old rancher replied, “Oh that’s cow manure for our gardens.”

My last ride is memorable as it was the one that brought me into Beaumont. By now it was about 10 ‘clock that night. The man asked me what I had been up to. I told him that I had left home a couple of months ago and had decided to return home. He said with emotion in his voice, “I think that’s wonderful. Your parents will be so glad to see you.”

I realized the man thought I was a runaway teen coming home like the prodigal son. He dropped me off on 11th Street just a few blocks from my house. I never told him any different. I suppose to this day that he remembers the night he helped a penitent teenager to return home.

If ever you hitchhike from Dallas to Beaumont, do not take US 287. In fact these days I say, “Don’t hitchhike at all.”

Winston Hamby
WinHamby@gmail.com