The Stupidest Thing I Ever Did (or Why Hitchhiking Is Never A Good Game Plan)
This one was prompted by, and is for, Allison.....
It was a beautiful day in '77. I was fifteen and fearless when I made a split second decision that could've been a very fatal mistake. I never gave it a second thought. I'd bought my Zeppelin ticket the day they went on sale and there was no turning back...it was my (our) band and I wouldn't miss it for the world.
My friend Marion called me that morning to confirm our plans, as we'd discussed for months. The only problem was that they'd suddenly changed and her older brother no longer had room for me in his car. I was devastated. And determined.
I headed straight to McDonalds, where others my age "hung out", to see if I could find another ride. When I was unsuccessful I left, wondering what I'd do. The only time I'd ever even been to the US was when we went to Disneyland when I was 12...I didn't even really know where Seattle was. I guess I'd find out.
I don't remember all the details...just that I told my Mom the concert was at the Coliseum (bad girl), as I knew there was no chance she'd ever agree to let me go. I hate the fact that I lied to my Mom...I'm generally a very honest person. But when you're 15 and Robert Plant and Jimmy Page are coming to a town (not really) near you, you do what you have to to get there.
I stuck out my thumb and don't remember much after that. I couldn't tell you who picked me up and drove me through the border. But the ride immediately after I'd crossed into the US I do remember - quite vividly. It was a man who picked me up on the I-5, just outside of Blaine. I remember feeling uneasy as soon as I got into the car...beside him on the front seat was a whole flat of Coors. "Not good" I thought. As we made small talk I was very nervous - I was barrelling down a highway with a complete stranger in a place that I was completely unfamiliar with. The signs on the side of the road were my only indication of where we were and where we were heading. As long as we were on the I-5, I knew we were going in the right direction. So, when the driver slowed down and took an exit off the highway, I knew I was in trouble! There was nothing around on the desolate road that he took. It was nothing but dry, overgrown fields and there was not a house to be seen. We crossed some railroad tracks and came to a stop sign. It was flight or fight time...I opened the door and bolted, running as fast as I could. I was very fit and very fast...I made it back to the I-5, all the time looking back over my shoulder to see that he didn't return for me. He didn't. (When I look back on this now, I shudder at the realization that the Green River murderer was in the area back then - it was not long after that he went on his "spree".....my gut tells me that I could've been in real trouble that day).
I stuck my thumb out again, now very nervous, anxious and upset that I'd done such a dumb thing. But, too late for second thoughts - I was in deep. My next ride was with a couple in a van who were going very near the Kingdome and said they could take me there. Thank God for that I thought. As we proceeded along on our way to Seattle, the driver noticed he was getting very low on gas. We took an exit that, apparently, was the one we needed anyway. We stopped at a gas station and, after sitting for a few minutes waiting for service, realized it was an old, abandoned one (in my defense - I couldn't see from the back of the van - these people were a few bricks short of a load). We limped along until we ran out of gas, just blocks away from the Kingdome. The couple pointed me in the direction and I continued on alone.
When I made it to the concert it was a mix of emotions that I was feeling. I was initially elated to be there, but that was shortlived and replaced with the overwhelming reality that I was all alone, in a foreign country and it would be nightfall when I'd be leaving. Terror set in fairly quickly. Panic. Anxiety. Before the lights dimmed for the show I remember looking around at all the people and feeling like I wanted to scream. What would I do? What had I done? I can honestly say that I've never been more scared in my life. I seriously thought I might die...I'd put myself in a very precarious position and the ride to get there was a prelude to what I might be encountering when I'd be leaving late at night. It was sheer terror that was overtaking me.
I knew of quite a few people from home that also had tickets to the show....my friend and her brother would surely cram me in their car if I found them. Afterall, they were somewhat responsible for my situation...Marion and I had bought our tickets together and had planned, all along, to go together in her brother's car. They'd really let me down.
I frantically searched the crowd (of thousands). I can honestly say that the anxiety of the moment was almost choking me...I couldn't scan the faces fast enough. I was desperate, I felt so alone and scared and hadn't really thought of what I was doing until it was too late. If only I could undo it all, I would...in a heartbeat. I even went over things in my head like how my Mom would cry when she learned of my fate. Those flash before your eyes kinds of things.
The lights dimmed and the crowd roared. It was too much - I cried. And then I could've sworn I heard someone saying "there's Debbie". It couldn't be? I whirled around to look behind me and there were some friends from home...laughing and saying, "yeah, we knew YOU'D make it here". I was never so happy to see three guys I knew in my entire life. They immediately offered to take me home after the show when they learned of my "journey"/predicament.
I did eventually make it back to the safety of home that night. Now I know how Dorothy was feeling as she clicked her ruby slippers together. I can relate.
When I finally did arrive home it was 4 a.m. My (favorite) aunt was over and sitting at the table with Mom. "Hi, how was the concert?", Mom asked. I knew she knew. "Great", I answered. "And WHERE was it again?". BUSTED. My aunt had let it slip, unaware that Mom didn't know it was a Seattle show.
But, in all honesty, I can say that the punishment/grounding I received was the best I'd ever had. There really is "NO PLACE LIKE HOME".
(And, as stupid as it was, I'm still thrilled that I got to see my boys, in action.)
It was a beautiful day in '77. I was fifteen and fearless when I made a split second decision that could've been a very fatal mistake. I never gave it a second thought. I'd bought my Zeppelin ticket the day they went on sale and there was no turning back...it was my (our) band and I wouldn't miss it for the world.
My friend Marion called me that morning to confirm our plans, as we'd discussed for months. The only problem was that they'd suddenly changed and her older brother no longer had room for me in his car. I was devastated. And determined.
I headed straight to McDonalds, where others my age "hung out", to see if I could find another ride. When I was unsuccessful I left, wondering what I'd do. The only time I'd ever even been to the US was when we went to Disneyland when I was 12...I didn't even really know where Seattle was. I guess I'd find out.
I don't remember all the details...just that I told my Mom the concert was at the Coliseum (bad girl), as I knew there was no chance she'd ever agree to let me go. I hate the fact that I lied to my Mom...I'm generally a very honest person. But when you're 15 and Robert Plant and Jimmy Page are coming to a town (not really) near you, you do what you have to to get there.
I stuck out my thumb and don't remember much after that. I couldn't tell you who picked me up and drove me through the border. But the ride immediately after I'd crossed into the US I do remember - quite vividly. It was a man who picked me up on the I-5, just outside of Blaine. I remember feeling uneasy as soon as I got into the car...beside him on the front seat was a whole flat of Coors. "Not good" I thought. As we made small talk I was very nervous - I was barrelling down a highway with a complete stranger in a place that I was completely unfamiliar with. The signs on the side of the road were my only indication of where we were and where we were heading. As long as we were on the I-5, I knew we were going in the right direction. So, when the driver slowed down and took an exit off the highway, I knew I was in trouble! There was nothing around on the desolate road that he took. It was nothing but dry, overgrown fields and there was not a house to be seen. We crossed some railroad tracks and came to a stop sign. It was flight or fight time...I opened the door and bolted, running as fast as I could. I was very fit and very fast...I made it back to the I-5, all the time looking back over my shoulder to see that he didn't return for me. He didn't. (When I look back on this now, I shudder at the realization that the Green River murderer was in the area back then - it was not long after that he went on his "spree".....my gut tells me that I could've been in real trouble that day).
I stuck my thumb out again, now very nervous, anxious and upset that I'd done such a dumb thing. But, too late for second thoughts - I was in deep. My next ride was with a couple in a van who were going very near the Kingdome and said they could take me there. Thank God for that I thought. As we proceeded along on our way to Seattle, the driver noticed he was getting very low on gas. We took an exit that, apparently, was the one we needed anyway. We stopped at a gas station and, after sitting for a few minutes waiting for service, realized it was an old, abandoned one (in my defense - I couldn't see from the back of the van - these people were a few bricks short of a load). We limped along until we ran out of gas, just blocks away from the Kingdome. The couple pointed me in the direction and I continued on alone.
When I made it to the concert it was a mix of emotions that I was feeling. I was initially elated to be there, but that was shortlived and replaced with the overwhelming reality that I was all alone, in a foreign country and it would be nightfall when I'd be leaving. Terror set in fairly quickly. Panic. Anxiety. Before the lights dimmed for the show I remember looking around at all the people and feeling like I wanted to scream. What would I do? What had I done? I can honestly say that I've never been more scared in my life. I seriously thought I might die...I'd put myself in a very precarious position and the ride to get there was a prelude to what I might be encountering when I'd be leaving late at night. It was sheer terror that was overtaking me.
I knew of quite a few people from home that also had tickets to the show....my friend and her brother would surely cram me in their car if I found them. Afterall, they were somewhat responsible for my situation...Marion and I had bought our tickets together and had planned, all along, to go together in her brother's car. They'd really let me down.
I frantically searched the crowd (of thousands). I can honestly say that the anxiety of the moment was almost choking me...I couldn't scan the faces fast enough. I was desperate, I felt so alone and scared and hadn't really thought of what I was doing until it was too late. If only I could undo it all, I would...in a heartbeat. I even went over things in my head like how my Mom would cry when she learned of my fate. Those flash before your eyes kinds of things.
The lights dimmed and the crowd roared. It was too much - I cried. And then I could've sworn I heard someone saying "there's Debbie". It couldn't be? I whirled around to look behind me and there were some friends from home...laughing and saying, "yeah, we knew YOU'D make it here". I was never so happy to see three guys I knew in my entire life. They immediately offered to take me home after the show when they learned of my "journey"/predicament.
I did eventually make it back to the safety of home that night. Now I know how Dorothy was feeling as she clicked her ruby slippers together. I can relate.
When I finally did arrive home it was 4 a.m. My (favorite) aunt was over and sitting at the table with Mom. "Hi, how was the concert?", Mom asked. I knew she knew. "Great", I answered. "And WHERE was it again?". BUSTED. My aunt had let it slip, unaware that Mom didn't know it was a Seattle show.
But, in all honesty, I can say that the punishment/grounding I received was the best I'd ever had. There really is "NO PLACE LIKE HOME".
(And, as stupid as it was, I'm still thrilled that I got to see my boys, in action.)
posted by Deb at 10:03 PM
7 Comments:
Wow, what a story ! I can't imagine how scared you must have been.
I remember seeing a documentary about the green river killer. I bet there's many times you've thought "I could have been in his vehicle".
I don't know how many miles Seattle is to Vancouver, but it must have felt like millions to you. I bet you were pleased to see your Mom even though you knew the consequences.
There will always be some question for me of whether or not I was in his vehicle Ben. Although, at the time, we hadn't started hearing of him yet - looking back now, my very uneasy feeling may have been instinct telling me to get the hell out of there.
I don't know how many miles from here to there either - I only know it's between a 3-4 hour drive.
I was so happy to see Mom and the consequences were nothing compared to the feeling of being safe at home!
What an a incredible story, Deb!
You were so right to trust your gut instincts that something felt wrong in that car (well besides the fact that you hitchhiked in the first place - but I think we all did at that age). We should always instill in our kids the need to listen to their instincts.
That is a story for the history books.
Thanks Barbara. I use this as an example with my kids of "what NOT to do" and how, despite my instincts telling me the whole thing was dangerous, I put myself in a bad position by not listening to that little voice in my head. I was undecided for the longest time in whether or not I'd even tell them story...but decided they could learn something from it so did.
Well told story. 1)The things you do for music and 2)how did we survive our youth?
There's a movie out there that you should see. It somewhat reminds me of your experience Detroit Rock City. Look it up.
I used to hitchhike all over during my college years. Got picked up by drunks, people of strange persuasions(I think - I was naive) and even a motorcycle gang.
BTW I saw them at Chicago in 76 or 77. Do you remember they had a "new" thing called laser lights?
That was the loudest concert I have ever been to. My ears where ringing for an hour after it.
Oh my gosh Deb. Very scary. Not only should you tell your kids but you should someday think about telling that story to your kid's classrooms. I think a real live face to this kind of danger would make it real and not just some overeaction lecture about blah blah blah.
My parents always told me to never question my instincts when it comes to feeling vulnerable or in danger. Don't question, just get the hell out. It's not the time to try and analyze a situation.
I would like to use this essay as an example of a narrative essay in my Comp 101 course. However, the quote in the title box will make the filters at the high schools block the page (and my class does beam out to several early entry high school classes). I would like to be able to re-post the story, with links to this page and the overall blog, while giving complete credit to you. My email is jkosmicki and I'm at cccneb.edu for the rest of the email. If you could email me and let me know if this is acceptable or not, i'd really appreciate it. This is a good story that would be a nice example for them in how to take a personal experience and turn it into an effective essay.
thanks.
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