LOADING
Article courtesy of Pier "Peter" Guidi '62.
We were on our way! School was done with and we were free! Free! With my high school friend Andy, $360 in my pocket, camping gear in the borrowed station wagon, some food, we were going to see America! The Dakota Badlands, the 1962 Seattle World's Fair, Highway 101 along the Oregon and California coastline, Las Vegas, Route 66, and who knew what else!
We drove all day and a good bit of the night from Croton Falls and North Salem, NY. It was almost night time when we got to Chicago. We just had to drive up State Street (remembering the song: “...State Street, that great street...”). Bars, movie theaters, people having fun... Not satisfied, we drove until we couldn’t stand it anymore. Wisconsin state line...Madison... fewer and fewer street lights... no lights... skinny winding roads.
About 1049 miles so far and we had to sleep... pulled over into some field and soon fell asleep as we were. Heard commotion the next morning. Yep, we were in the middle of a corn field, muddy at that. We were lucky to get the car out... and soon were on our way to whatever adventures lay ahead.
44 years later, here I am trying to patch this memory together from a few photos that my buddy Andy found. College, the Viet Nam war, careers, marriages, children..., life... do not diminish the sweet angst that memories of this trip bring.
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" V. Guidi, Purdys Central High (NY), Class of '62
Missoula, Montana. We'd heard about "cruising" on TV -- but had never actually experienced it, or even seen it. Here it was after all!
We arrived in the evening and headed for the center of the mostly deserted town. BUT, on the main "drag", it was a madhouse of cars and trucks. The average age of the drivers seemed to be no more than 19. Perfect! The speed, no more than maybe 10. Also perfect! Everybody could talk to everybody else hanging out the car windows as the long line of vehicles crawled along.
We joined of course, in a loop maybe 5 or 6 blocks long... a train station at one end, and some construction at the other end. ‘Round and ’round we went, talking to whomever pulled up next to us. Of course, we felt a bit cocky and silly at the same time... what with out shoe-polish painted up station wagon. But, we were FROM NEW YORK AFTER ALL! Ha!
We met a couple of girls. The Four Seasons' ”Sherri” was playing on the radio, and one of the girls was named, you guessed it: Sherri. Or so she told us. The girls were going to meet us the next day at some drive-in hamburder place. We waited and waited... it never happened.
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" V. Guidi, Purdys Central High (NY), Class of '62
Olympia beer was very big in the Northwest. Rumor was if you peeled off the label very carefully, you would find from one to four black dots on the back of an Olympia beer label. Giving a girl a label with one dot meant you got to hold hands. Two dots meant you got a kiss. Three dots... well, you get the idea.
So, we had to check this out... yep, there were the dots!
Only in our wildest teenage dreams, however, did such transactions really take place. First of all, where were the girls that had agreed to this? Besides, it was hard enough just getting our hands on the beer.
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" V. Guidi, Purdys Central High (NY), Class of '62
Under 21 Club
The text below is gleaned from http://pnwbands.com/pypoclub.html - "Pacific Northwest Bands". Tap the picture to see the web site - with selected music from groups who played at the Pypo Club and elsewhere in the 60's.
My buddy Andy Ponzini and I graduated from Purdys Central High (North Salem Township, Purdys, NY) in June, 1962. We took a cross country trip before heading off our separate ways to college. We somehow landed in Seaside Oregon and the Pypo Club. Would you believe we were carded to prove we were under 21? Guess we looked mature for our age!
We slept on the beach somewhere near Seaside and woke up soaking wet and covered with flotsam and jetsum next morning (the tide apparently reached the foot of our sleeping bags), with tourists looking at us in a very strange fashion indeed! What fun!!!
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" V. Guidi, Purdys Central High (NY), Class of '62
Somewhere near Seaside, Oregon - late one evening - in the dark - with a flashlight in hand and a couple of sleeping bags under our arms, Andy and I climbed down these steep cliffs to the beach and surf below.
We were dead tired from the day's driving and an evening at Seaside's Pypo Club, and fell asleep in a moment. Barely dawn, we woke up to the sound of children laughing, people talking and the faint sounds of water off in the distance lapping the beach. We and everything else were soaking wet with all sorts of debris at our feet. The tide had apparently come within a few feet of our sleeping bags. And, that was only a few feet from the cliff we had climbed down the night before ...
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" V. Guidi, Purdys Central High (NY), Class of '62
(with memories from L. Andrew Ponzini, Purdys Central High (NY), Class of '62)
Andy and I "camped out" in Golden Gate Park, San Francisco for at least one night. Who thought about the fact that in the early 60's it was definitely NOT a safe place to be? Hard to believe we actually parked the car in some trees and bushes so it was well hidden! Of course, the bright side could have been being arrested and getting at least one good meal and a shower!
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" V. Guidi, Purdys Central High (NY), Class of '62
We had to travel Route 66... America's "Mother Road".
With images of the 60's TV show where 2 guys (Martin Milner, George Maharis) have fun and adventure driving a
Chevrolet Covette to the beat of "get your kicks on Route 66" in our heads... we had to try it too.
Driving near Grasshopper Junction, Arizona one day... we came across a great number of dips/ups-and-downs in the road (arroyo's?). We gunned it and went flying over the tops getting those funny feelings in the pit of our stomachs as we almost left the ground - maybe I suppose something like your first time being weightless in space. We stopped at one of those old roadside places with a gas pump (yep, one of those with a glass tank top used to measure how much gas you're getting!), a "dry goods" store and such. An old guy was rocking on the front porch ... the hot sun beating down and cooking everything in sight ... watching his rock tumbler thing go 'round and 'round. We excitedly told him about our small adventure - and he, in his best Western/Southern sort of drawl looked up at us and calmly said: "Yea... it would be real funny if you boys went over one of those bumps and hit a cow at the bottom of the gully." Never thought about that ...
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" V. Guidi, Purdys Central High (NY), Class of '62
Time was flying. Seattle, Oregon, San Francisco, the California coast and the undeniably beautiful Pacific Highway/Route 101 were behind us. We turned our car eastward... toward Arizona and home. Didn't say much to each other... some kinda sadness took hold as we, I think, silently felt that something wonderful in our lives was ending.
I slept in my sleeping bag a couple nights in the open desert - Andy took in a motel I think. I was running low on money.
Somewhere in Arizona or New Mexico, probably midnight or later... Andy's asleep ... he drove most of the afternoon. Funny how we competed to drive for something to do at these times of long distances. It was my turn.
The roads out here are straight as an arrow. Darkness all around except for those headlights, far into the near total darkness ahead. Just those headlights, seemingly frozen in space.
Then suddenly it happened.
I didn't remember much. Just a lingering, strange fear and my body shaking as I found myself standing next to the car. The engine was still running.
Andy said he woke up in a start as the car bounced and raced across the desert sand, coming to rest who knows how far from the road. I didn't drive any more that day... all I had was a fuzzy memory of oncoming headlights. Headlights far, far away. Headlights getting closer and closer. Headlights that suddenly were right in front of me.
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" Guidi '62, Purdys Central High (NY)
Andy and l had been driving a long time without much rest. The car felt it too. Chicago, the Dakotas, Montana, Seattle World's Fair, Oregon, San Francisco, Yosemite, Arizona, New Mexico, the Texas panhandle, Oklahoma, and now Missouri. Our cross-country trip right after graduating Purdys Central High in NY was coming to an end. It was a long time ago. The summer of 1962.
We didn't want it to come to an end. The car seemed to sense what we felt. Maybe in its own way, it helped us slow down a bit. It didn't want to travel fast, had trouble going up hills and started overheating. As we approached Springfield, Missouri on a lonely stretch of Route 66, we decided to pull into a garage on the other side of the road. Not much of a place, but Wilbur came out and greeted us with a friendly "Hello boys!".
It was late Friday or maybe Saturday morning. Wilbur stuck his head under the hood, started the car, listened, rubbed his chin, and soon had the top off the engine. "Yep" he said to himself. The car had overheated somewhere along the line and we needed a new thermostat and a valve had to be repaired. Parts weren't going to be available ‘till Monday. Would we like to stay with him in the back? he asked. You bet!
Not much to do out here... no car, and we weren't much for walking after 3 weeks on the road. There was a small diner near by. It was good to relax without having a place to go.
In the afternoon we watched cars go by and Wilbur puttering in the garage. Around 5:00 he comes out and announces that he doesn't want to be disturbed for a while and "don't ask me any questions".
Its about 6:30 or so. Haven‘t seen Wilbur. Andy and I are getting hungry and decide to walk down to that diner. As we get up from our place, a black Cadillac limo pulls in. The chauffer steps out, waits a moment and opens the back door of the car as Wilbur walks out of his garage. We almost didn't recognize him. He's wearing a tuxedo! As he enters the car, we get a slight glimpse of a woman wearing a black dress in the back seat. We hear him saying "Now, you boys don't wait up for me!". We didn't.
It was late morning the following day when we see Wilbur next. Nothing was ever said about what happened, or why, or who that woman was. But it did make us smile. It still does.
Our car was fixed Monday morning. We were on our way again.
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" Guidi '62, Purdys Central High (NY)
Sooner or later, the adventure was going to be over...
The remainder of our cross-country trip is faint in my mind. Maybe it was too close to the major life changes that were about to take place, and I suppose, memories of the end of this adventure had to make room for new, more immediate ones.
We returned by way of Canada in the last few days - spent a day or two in Niagara Falls and then a day in NY's Lake George where Andy went to summer camp when he was younger. We got home eventually. A bit weary and in my mind a bit fuzzy about the rush of experiences in the previous short 30 days or so.
Andy went on to Carnegie Tech in Pittsburgh. I went to Manhattan College in New York City. I don't think we got in touch during college. Something, I don't know what, had silently slipped away, was over.
Some 3 or so years later Andy comes home and decides to join the military. I remember driving him to Brooklyn for his induction. Nothing else. The Viet Nam War was on.
I finished school and got a job. Andy came home from the war. We still didn't see or communicate with each other again until around 1973. Andy was passing through New Jersey. We had lunch and went our separate ways.
Around 2002 I get an unexpected e-mail. it's from Andy. He searched the internet and found me.
Its been good reconnecting. Too bad we spent a lifetime apart and are still a continent away - Andy in Canada's British Columbia for 30+ years and me in New Jersey since 1966.
Who would have dreamed that 44 years later our cross-country trip in the summer of 1962 would loom large in my heart and mind? Maybe its because it was a time when we had no cares in the world - the kind of freedom that I for one have never felt since.
Written c. 2006 by Pier "Peter" Guidi '62, Purdys Central High (NY)
