Completely OT - travel and life in 1952

[KnightBridgeAZ]

Just read some notes my grandmother made in 1952 when she and her 2nd husband, whom I called Grandpa Archie. traveled from NJ to California and back in January and February, 1952. Went via Atlanta, New Orleans and the current route of I-10 to the LA area; returned slightly further north (perhaps Route 66?) through Albuquerque, Tulsa and Indianapolis.

Some amazing (to me) tidbits:
- from El Paso walked across the bridge into Mexico and later drove like it was nothing; hopped into "old Mexico" from San Diego and bought liquor at discount prices.
- took a late tour of New Orleans "hot spots" and got back to hotel at 2:30 AM (Gram was 51 at the time, her husband a bit older!)
- went to the dog track in Phoenix and Archie won $100 and gave her half "because it was their anniversary". I'm still trying to decide if that was nice or chauvinistic.
- won a 5 cent machine jackpot in Vegas but doesn't know how Archie did at Roulette.
- visited a lot of family, friends and distant acquaintances, including a man working at the bank where "they let the tellers wear blue jeans"!!!!
- during the trip, found out that an airplane had crashed into and destroyed their apartment in NJ (I have news clippings); the "press" found out they were in Pasadena and interviewed them. What is even more amazing is that it was quite a few days before they found out - they were suspicious based on what they saw on TV but wasn't confirmed till they called NJ to find out; then the next day got some forwarded mail with the news! Boy, have times changed.
- saw "real" American Indians everywhere in the SW
- toured Hollywood and saw the homes of the stars and even saw families of stars around pools, etc. Went to some radio / television taping including Art Linkletter and a game show I have never heard of.

Fascinating - they made respectable time, found motor lodges with no problems (only one was a disappointment) and had a great time, apparently, sans the bad news from home.

Anyone else old enough to travel back then? I admit I wasn't born yet.

 

[winlots]

KB: good stuff.....enjoyed your trip down memory lane. . And, yes, I did travel that year. Took my first trip out of the PA/NJ block. Spring break, some guys came to my folks place in the Philly Burbs and drove me to FL. We never stopped except for gas and food, and and sang "Wemaway" (I forget how to spell it) for almost all the entire trip. We had been invited to the Presidential Palace in Cuba, but I didn't have the $90 for airfare, so while the other guys went over there, I spent a great week at a friend's place in Clearwater Beach. The Phils were training there and I had the opportunity to visit with the granddaddy of all relievers, my friend Jim Konstanty (as a life guard, I had taught his kids how to swim). I recall that he insisted on giving me ten bucks. Seemed like a million..

 

[NVUConnFan]

I made a similar trip in 1952 from Memphis, TN to Riverside, CA in a 1949 Kaiser with my parents. What fun! We stopped in Texas to visit some relatives and I got to go (at age 7) with my Dad and uncle to hunt and shoot armadillo and jack rabbits (they got at least 1 of each, IIRC). Then we stopped at Carlsbad Caverns in NM for the whole day. Man, that's dark in there when they turn off the lights! But otherwise it was spectacular. No problems occurred on the entire trip that I remember. Oh yeah, no seat belts either. My sis and I were standing up in the space between the front and backs seat most of the time eyeballing all the scenery. Neither of us asked: "Are we there yet?"

Those travel days are long gone, alas.

 

[Bestiarius]

In 1952 I was 12 years old. My father commuted to NY City by bus from our suburban home in New Jersey. He had a 52 Chevy, a stick shift on the steering column. The car included a "Passing Eye" mirror, quite a neat gadget (worth Googling).

My mother didn't drive, and the car stayed home all week while my father was at work. I was into cars, as were most kids in the neighborhood. We could identify the make of most brands solely by the sound. Each was unique. Having that car sitting in the garage was too big a temptation and while my dad was at work, I started to make short trips up our block in his car.

It was quite thrilling to a 12 year old to shift into second gear before reaching the turn-around spot. Slowly, as I gained confidence, I extended my trips to include an area of about a square mile of residential streets with little traffic during the week day. Knowing I was engaged in criminal activity, I was very careful to observe all the rules of the road and got a lump in my throat when I occasionally encountered another car.

I never understood why my mother (a stay at home mom) never said anything or tried to stop me. I'm sure she must have known what I was doing.

Years later when I got my learner's driving permit, my dad offered to teach me to drive. During my first lesson, he was amazed at how proficient I was behind the wheel. I accepted his praise in silence, more than willing to allow him to think he had a mechanical genius on his hands. After all, isn't a son supposed to do all he can to please his dad an make him proud?

 

[JRRRJ]

Just read some notes my grandmother made in 1952 when she and her 2nd husband, whom I called Grandpa Archie. traveled from NJ to California and back in January and February, 1952. Went via Atlanta, New Orleans and the current route of I-10 to the LA area; returned slightly further north (perhaps Route 66?) through Albuquerque, Tulsa and Indianapolis.

Some amazing (to me) tidbits:
- from El Paso walked across the bridge into Mexico and later drove like it was nothing; hopped into "old Mexico" from San Diego and bought liquor at discount prices.

.
.
.

Anyone else old enough to travel back then? I admit I wasn't born yet.

I was traveling to Boston (from E Hartford) in '52 but don't remember it. I do remember numerous trips up US 20 in the decade that followed. 2-lane road with little traffic, especially after the Pike was built. (Dad wasn't going to pay any tolls, no sir.)

Sounds like your Gramps had a good time.

Walking across the Peace Bridge from El Paso to Mexico was as easy in '82 as it was for your folks. Walking back after a long afternoon & evening in La Cita Cantina with a young bartenderess who was learning to make Margaritas, we realized we had left our identification in the car, parked under the highway near the bridge. So, we decided that singing "God Bless America" at the top of our lungs as we approached the Customs station (no barricades, just a Stop sign) was the best solution. We only had to answer one question: "Bringing anything back?" to which I replied "Too much tequila.". Apparently it was the right answer, since they let us through.

 

[BooRadley]

Ah 1952,….. I was a half a year old when old father time rang in 1952 and as I remember it, it was a very good year.

My mom drove a Packard and the thing had the biggest steering wheel I had seen in entire life. That car was a beast… it could hold 3 cases of gin on each of it’s running boards and you could still open the doors. I thought about rum running but I wasn’t sure if Rum was anything like Gin, so I moved on….

All that thinking about stuff to drink made me thirsty and so I drank and drank and drank… my drink was milk. I preferred my milk straight up, no Ovaltine, no chocolate, no malted flavoring for me, just neat and right from the faucet. I realized that I had a problem when I saw that wherever I was there was a hefty supply of milk nearby. So, I decided to clean my act up. The withdrawals were tough but I made it… Yeah, there were a few slip-ups but who’s perfect… I’m clean today.

Mom and dad both worked, so I decided to hang out at the local babysitters house. My best friend was a babe that had drool that went from here to there, Whatta looker. Her name was Sally and she sold seashells by the seashore. At least that’s what I think she said.

All in all, I did 3 hard years in that joint… It’s where I learned to hustle pacifiers from the little ones. Damn, they were easy marks. By the time I was 2, I had darn near cornered the market on rubber nipples. I was well on my way to becoming a fat cat when the market crashed when I hit 3. It’s an old story, rags to riches to rags… But I’m an American… I don’t give up.

The best time of day was when the little kids took a snooze. That’s when I could do a little thinking and plan my next heist. The babysitter’s necklaces were my specialty and I would have been rich, rich I tells ya, if my mom didn’t keep meddling in my business and snooping in my blankie.. By December of that year I was working on my forth million… mostly because I had given up on the first three.

I’ll tell you about 1953, next year. Stay cool.


Bad Baby Boy Boo