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Hitch Hiking
In 1963 Marvin Gaye's hit song "Hitch Hiker" led to a short-lived dance craze called the Hitchhike. I was 15 then and I remember this well. Dancing in the Our Lady of Victory church basement, the records playing and a bunch of us Fox Hill teenagers thinking we were all that.
I thought I was a pretty good dancer in those days, although, as I look back on it now, that point would be pretty debateable. But the Hitchhike was pretty easy to do. Right thumb up in the air, like you were really hitchhiking, throw your thumb up three times, clap your hands, and then do the same with the left thumb. Back and forth, right thumb, left thumb, all the while moving your hips and legs to the music.
I think I could still do a pretty mean Hitchhike if someone put me up to it. I can recall two other hitchhiking songs. In 1970 Vanity Fare had the hit "Hitchin' A Ride," and a year later Creedence Clearwater Revival sang about "Sweet Hitchhiker." Oh, I like that one : "...saw a slight distraction standin' by the road - she was smilin' there, yellow in her hair..."
As popular as the songs and dances were I was told by my parents early in my life, "Don't ever hitchhike." It was against my parents' rules, so, being the good boy that I was, I never hitchhiked. My Dad told me many times, "If you live under this roof, you follow my rules!" I followed his rules better than the Ten Commandments!
But I knew a lot of people who did hitch hike. Back in the Sixties it was a common sight along Route 3. Now this is back in the old days before it was filled with businesses. There were a few along the area that is now the home of McDonald's and P&C and Wendy's and Consumer Square. I remember the drive-in theater out that way, although I can't remember if that was the Stardust or the Plattsburgh Drive-In. But that's food for another blog, anyway.
It was common, though, to see high school boys hitchhiking home around six or seven each night. Just ask some of the former St. John's Academy boys about that. You see, Barry Branon, the coach and guru of St. John's, had a knack for getting boys from the Saranac and Dannemora areas to travel to Plattsburgh to play sports. And there were some good ones through the years. My friend Willie "You Can Him Bill" Watson could make a long list, I'll bet.
Nevertheless, hitchhiking in those days was a common event. Drivers were often pulling over to pick up a needy fellow or, even, female at times. Somewhere, somehow, through the years it became illegal, apparantly, to hitchhike. It went from a common event in the Sixties to just about non-existent thirty or so years later.
Alright, I will admit I did hitchhike twice in my life, but I was not in high school. One day when I was in college at Plattsburgh State, my car broke down. I had to get home and it was the coldest day of the year. I didn't wear gloves, I had books to carry, but my father's words echoed in my head. I decided to walk from Hawkins Hall to my home on Johnson Avenue. Only a few miles. But by the time I reached South Catherine Street, my toes and fingers felt frost-bitten. I figured that my life was in danger. So, I stepped on the road and stuck out my right thumb. All the while I walked backwards (remember that move?). Finally, near the Altamont a car stopped. It was Father Aubin, the priest from OLV. He gave me a ride home, lecturing me the entire time about the dangers of hitchhiking.
The second time was a much longer journey. I was pledging Pi Alpha Nu fraternity and one weekend my task was to hitchhike to Schenectady and get brother Bill Efner's autograph on a piece of paper. You see, Bill had gone home to visit his parents for the weekend. With fellow pledge Rodger White with me, I got a ride to exit 36 of the Northway. Standing by the side of the Route 87, we stuck out our right thumbs. Within minutes we had a ride. It was a couple of wild maniac 30-year-old guys from Montreal, headed to New York City. They drove too fast, cursed too much and scared the heck out me. My Dad's words echoed in my head the entire time, until around Pottersville, when they stopped for a lady and young girl by the side of the road with a flat tire.
The two females were glad to see four strong men offer help. As I recall, the Montreal guys changed the tire while Rodger and I flirted with the young girl and her mom. We found out they were from Albany. We quietly asked the lady if she would rescue us and give us a ride the rest of the way. They agreed. And within hours Rodger and I were knocking on brother Bill's door.
I write about this because a few days ago I turned off the Northway at Exit 34, the Keeseville exit, and I saw a girl hitchhiking. She was maybe twenty, in one of those gauze-type hippie, flowerchild dresses and a denim jacket. She held a sign that said, "NY City." It provided a quick flashback to the Sixties. A common sight at one time, but a shocker to see today. I wanted to turn my car around and go talk with her. I wanted to give her the same warnings that my father had given me about forty years ago. But I didn't.
I wonder whatever happened to that girl?
Comments
Rodger White graduated from North Syracuse High with Richard Gere in 1967. He taught math at Saranac for 33 years, and is now a Methodist minister, living in the greater capital district. I Googled him just for fun, and recognized the story.
(Foxy's note: Thanks for the update!)
Posted by: Sally White | May 6, 2008 5:44 PM
Is is possible that Rodger White graduated from Darien high school in Connecticut?
(Foxy's note: It is possible. I can't remember where Rodger was originally from, but I believe he was teaching at Peru (NY) Central School during the 1970s and 1980s.)
Posted by: DOLORES BOWER | October 13, 2006 3:08 PM
Back in the 40's and early 50's hitch hiking was a way of life for us. Our neighborhood baseball team run by us with no help from adults would schedule games with various sandlot teams in the city. The games I remember the most were with The Flat, St. Peter's, Fox Hill, The Sailly Avenue Team and the away games. We could walk or bicycle to all of those areas, but we would hitch hike to Cadyville, Champlain and Rouses Point. Two players would get on the road and as soon as they were picked up two more would get out there. When all players arrived at our destination the game would begin. Also remember hitch hiking to Albany for a baseball game, New York City for baseball games and to Burlington to see the Harlem Globetroters play. It all seemed so innocent and safe back then. I guess those days are gone but not forgotten.
(Foxy's note: I was thinking that the Old Timer probably had his thumb up in the air more than once back then! Pretty funny about the whole team hitching a ride two at a time!)
Posted by: The Old Timer | September 7, 2006 2:27 PM
In the 50's I used to hitch from Willsboro to Reber. Then no cars ever went by without picking me up. Different world. Who said "You can never go home" They were right.
Posted by: marty crowningshield | September 7, 2006 2:17 PM