As long as I live I will never get over not being able to cross the street
in downtown Boonville, because of the heavy traffic.
When we were kids you could literally lie down on highway 128 while waiting
for a car to arrive. This absence of traffic was mostly in the winter
of course, but just the same, it is still hard to get used to today.
I remember
standing out in front of Wiese's café late on a Saturday night trying
to hitch hike home to Philo. It was so cold that our spit would freeze
when it hit the pavement. I'm not sure why we were spitting, but there
must have been a good reason.
Our last hope was when the bar closed at 2 a.m. Surely, we reasoned, someone
would stop for us on their way home. It would have been a long walk otherwise.
Six miles, at least, by the time you added the extra mile from Philo to
the Resort, where my cousin and I lived.
It was Bill Owens that stopped for us. His driving might have been questioned
by those with warmer options than us but I mentally send my thanks to
him every time I see him playing his guitar in Boonville, today.
Thanks Bill.
