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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I was married a year in June of 1952, when my husband, Doug, was drafted into the Korean “not-a-war” that, of course, really was a war in disguise. After basic training Doug was sent to Fort Knox in Louisville, Kentucky, for tank training (for which he had NO aptitude) that was supposed to be three months. I was 23 but had never learned to drive, so I took a crash course and got my license in July because I had to drive to work. By then I had decided to go be with Doug as long as I could. I had bought a 1940 Pontiac ($200) with 98,000 miles on it, in which I planned to drive from New Haven to Troy, NY, to pick up a stranger. (Did I say everyone thought I was demented?) I was scared to death but couldn’t have admitted it. Off I went to Louisville with my 3-month-old license and someone I didn’t know, who didn’t drive. packed like the Oakies in The Grapes of Wrath Three days – no Thruway then, only Rte. 20. Labor Day weekend traffic – HOT – no air- conditioning. Cold grape juice signs all AM, dry cornfields all afternoon. Through Buffalo, NY, Friday at rush hour. At last, blessed bed and breakfast in Erie, PA. SOO tired, hands I thought were permanently cramped from gripping the steering wheel. Another grueling day and a half to go. Cheered ourselves that we would have a comfortable room and hot showers on the base. No dice. A converted barracks, creaky cots, We were so tired we just laughed hysterically. For two months I drove to work at a bank and Back and forth the Dixie “Die-way” to Fort Knox. Rented a room, and, when he got his orders, sold the car for $100 and bought a plane ticket home!
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