The Electric Highway

I help Coach Patterson prepare his his game plan for TCU by:

hitting the books

working on the computer

and talking over strategy with Superfrog

That’s a day in the life of the hardest working dog in D1 football. All I have to say is GO FROGS! Beat NM!

Yawn,

Coach Patterson’s Dog (aka CPD)

Amon G. Carter Stadium

“Fight ‘em ’till Hell freezes over. Then fight ‘em on the ice.”  ~ Dutch Meyer, legendary TCU coach

For over 100 years, they have gathered here to do battle - beginning at tiny Clark Field, a spartan facility that consisted of two wooden bleachers and, later, moving on to beautiful Amon G. Carter Stadium. Back then, there was no Gatorade or AstroTurf. There were no facemasks for that matter. There was quite simply, just a burning desire to play football… and to play it well. What began on a Saturday afternoon in 1896 has grown to become one of the oldest and most distinguished football programs in intercollegiate athletics. How distinguished? TCU has celebrated two national championships and was recently ranked in the the “50 Greatest College Football Programs of All Time.” Here is where legends like Heisman Trophy winner Davey O’Brien, Slingin’ Sammy Baugh, Jim Swink, Bob Lilly and LaDainian Tomlinson gained immortality. Soon another season begins.

Awards & Program Honors

2 National Championships

Heisman Trophy Award Winner - Davey O’Brien

Heisman Trophy Award Runner-up - Jim Swink

5 Horned Frogs have finished in the top 5 in Heisman voting - Sam Baugh, Davey O’Brien, Jim Swink, Kenneth Davis, LaDainian Tomlinson

37 first-team All-American players

Ranked 39th on Street & Smith’s “50 Greatest College Football Programs of All Time”

Green Flag... green, green, green

Saturday night saw the GTRL/FPR drivers take the green flag for 100 laps of high speed racing and close drafting at Talledega Speedway. The first 9 laps were uneventful with the lead changing hands numerous times. It looked as if we were going to have a long green run… then we had the big one.

The big one

Phil DeFranco in the 113 lost control going into turn one taking Robbie Shook in the 33 and Tim Kirby in the 11 along for the ride. After pit stops under caution to repair damage the race continued with the exception of the 33. His car was taken behind the wall and was finished for the night. After a long green run and pit stops under the green flag the field was spread out. The 5 of jsteph45 managed to overtake two cars and hold on for a second place finish in the first race of the season. Congratulations to Les Harwood in the 026 for the win.

The 5 crosses the line in 2nd place

Some time ago it was my turn to teach my Sunday School class so I went to Barnes & Noble in search of material to present and maybe a bit of inspiration. I found a small book that contained a lot of prayers suitable for certain themes or occasions and bought it thinking I could find some thought provoking material. When I got home I sat down to peruse my newly purchased book and turned to the index. My eyes immediately fell on the title “Confederate Soldier’s Prayer” and I knew I needed to read it first. Whether it was serendipity or providence, it was one of those magical, unexplained things that always seem to occur when you least expect it.

Why would something about a Confederate soldier hold such meaning for me? Why would a war that ended 143 years ago on Palm Sunday in 1865 at the Appomattox Court House get my attention? The simple answer is my grandfather was a Confederate soldier and fought for the South during that conflict. My father who is now 95, is one of the last living children of a Civil War veteran. For these reasons I wanted to read this prayer first. To gain insight about that period of our history.

As I read the following prayer I received much more than I expected. I received a new perspective on life and how prayer can be answered. Many times the answer is not what we expect or ask for but an answer that gives us a much fuller, richer life if we are open to receive it. I read this often and try to be more attuned to the answers I am given. Maybe it will speak to you as it has spoken to me.

Confederate Soldier’s Prayer

I asked God for strength that I might achieve, I was made weak, that I might learn to humbly obey.

I asked God for health, that I might do greater things, I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy, I was given poverty, that I might be wise.

I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men, I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life, I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I asked for – but everything I had hoped for.

Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am among men, most richly blessed.

Found on the body of a Southern soldier 1861–1865

Well we set a new record high temperature for August 3rd, at 107 degrees. I decided we weren’t going to heat the house by turning on the oven to bake a chicken and a potato; the airconditioning is working hard enough without adding more heat to the house. This was a job for the Big Green Egg! Jane cleaned the chicken and placed it on the spanek vertical roaster while I got the potato ready and fired up the egg. A little salt and pepper for seasoning and I put it in the egg to do an indirect cook.

In and ready to close the dome

After an hour and a quarter at approximately 425 degrees the chicken and potato were done to perfection. We had a salad, some chicken and split the potato. Nothing better than a simple meal cooked without much fuss and keeping the house cool.

Ready to take off and eat

Plus the flavor and moistness of the chicken. It was yummy for the tummy!

And that’s the wonderful thing about family travel:  it provides you with experiences that will remain locked forever in the scar tissue of your mind. ~Dave Barry

Just get on any major highway, and eventually it will dead-end in a Disney parking area large enough to have its own climate, populated by large nomadic families who have been trying to find their cars since the Carter administration. ~Dave Barry

In 1957 Disneyland was in it’s second year of operation and the Carter administration was still 19 and a half years away. The crowds at Disneyland though large were manageable and unless you were Clark Griswold with his family on vacation, finding the car at the end of the day wasn’t all that hard. Of all our many trips to California, Cadillac Vacation California Vintage 1957, has a certain boquet, a nose that lingers in the recesses of my memory. This was the vacation that we loaded the luggage into my friends mother’s 1957 Cadillac and set off in search of their visions of movie stars, gold and the myths of Southern California. The Caddy was large enough to comfortably seat the three adults, my friend, his younger brother and myself. It was The Queen Mary of the highway. They wanted to see Los Angeles… we had the experience of five previous trips to help guide them and they had the land yacht to propel us there and back in comfort. We loaded up… pointed it West and away we went.

We headed west out of Fort Worth and before we got to Mineral Wells Bobby’s mom asked, “What is that smell? It almost smells like Lilacs.” I had smelled it earlier and thought it was air freshner they used inside the car. Bobby got very quiet which was not usual for him or most any eleven year old boy. Quickly sensing his unease, she asks “Bobby what did you do? I can tell that odor is coming from you.” Bobby lowers his head and says quietly, “I used your hairspray this morning before we left.” Well I thought that was hilarious… Bobby using hairspray to keep his hair in place instead of good old Wildroot hair cream. I didn’t know the best was yet to come. “But Bobby my hairspray was already packed. Where did you find the can of spray?” “It was in the bottom right hand drawer of your dresser in a purple can.” was his reply. “Bobby that was room deodorizer you used not hairspray.” At that point I lost it for about ten or fifteen minutes while Bobby turned more shades of red than I ever thought possible.

After eating lunch at the Purple Onion in Las Vegas, Bobby being Bobby, pulled on the handles of the slot machines in the restaurant’s entry way as we left. Someone had left money in one of the slots without having pulled the handle. The machine starts whirring as Bobby pulls the handle and lo and behold he hits a jackpot. Lights are flashing, bells are ringing and Bobby is going crazy! The cashier runs around the corner to get him away from the machine since he’s a minor and it’s illegal for him to play or win. So Bobby wins a jackpot but the restaurant gets to keep it. Another life lesson learned the hard way.

Bobby and his brother wanted to stop at every road side business to look around whether it was Howdy Hank, Jackrabbit, The Thing or a get your petrified wood from the Petrified Forest and sand from the Painted Desert tourist trap. We gave in for The Thing and they paid their money but were a bit disappointed to see a small Gila Monster in a wire cage. The miles and miles of billboard buildup for The Thing had their expectations too high. We did enjoy looking around the trading post at Jackrabbit which only cost something if you bought something.

Our entry point to California was the border town of Needles. Needles in 1957 was a small desert town just across the Colorado River from Arizona. It was full of sand, dust, scorpions, some dilapidated buildings and a lot of heat. While it wasn’t a bad town it was somewhat plain and nondescript. As we drove into Needles, Bobby says “This can’t be California! Where’s the gold, the neon and the glitter?” Yes. Where indeed was it? It could be found in the mind of an eleven year old boy making his first trip West but it only existed in the Twilight Zone. Bobby and his brother managed to shatter a lot of fantasies and learn many life lessons that summer but it was an enjoyable trip for all… one I’ll never forget.

Lettin’ out the clutch, steppin’ on the gas and movin’ a bit further down the highway.

Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything. ~Charles Kuralt, On the Road With Charles Kuralt

The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page. ~St. Augustine

Charles Kuralt has it right about not seeing anything on the modern interstate system. Progress always seems to take its toll as efficiency seems to remove personality and romance from our daily lives.

Once upon a time there was a magical ribbon of pavement linking Chicago to Los Angeles. It’s official designation was U.S. 66 or Route 66. As the United States became more mobile during the late 1930’s and 1940’s it became “The Mother Road” for people leaving the Midwest and Northeast in hopes of finding a better life in the Southwest or California. Most were looking for more opportunity and a better climate. In the late 1930’s it was the migrant farm workers leaving the dust bowl of Oklahoma for agricultural jobs in California. In the 1940’s it was people moving to California to work in the defense industries. The 1950’s brought the people that were needed to build housing and places of work for the increasing population and of course vacationers. That last category, vacationers, is where I began to gather my memories of this legendary highway.

We usually picked up Route 66 just east of Albuquerque so I have no experience with the eastern portion of the great road.

The summer of 1950 my Dad decided that he would like to see the Pacific Ocean at least once in his lifetime, so having a weeks vacation in August we set out in our 1938 Ford Coupe to see the great Pacific Ocean. I wasn’t quite five years old so my memories of that trip aren’t many. I remember seeing Hoover Dam on a very hot day. There wasn’t any airconditioning in that ‘38 Ford. We weren’t prepared for the heat of the desert in August. All we had was a thermos of cool water and a wash rag that Mom kept wet using our cool water. We used that rag to cool off as much as is possible and I remember it being more of a distraction than a help. Every time I wanted to look at something here came that rag to block my view and get my face damp. We were sunburned, windburned, hot and briefly wet.

We finally made it to Los Angeles and found a motel a couple of blocks in from Seal Beach. I vividly remember my first encounter with the mighty Pacific at Seal Beach. This was so much better than a bathtub full of tepid water and much colder. I had to hold someones hand to be able to play in the surf and how I loved playing in the surf. I would be shivering, teeth chattering when Mom would ask “Are you cold?”, my answer was always an emphatic “No, mommy I’m not cold.” How could you admit to being cold when you were having the time of your very young life? I didn’t know if we would go to the beach again while we were there and I wanted to make this last as long as possible.

Well that’s most of what I recall from that trip. Dad told me not too long ago that the brakes went out on the car during that trip and he found a way to keep driving. He didn’t get them fixed until we got home. I think I’m glad I didn’t know anything about cars and driving at that age. While I don’t remember much about Route 66 from that trip, I do have memories from many subsequent trips. Memories of Howdy Hank, Jackrabbit, the Painted Desert, the Petrified Forest, Indian Curio shops, Holbrook, Williams, Gallup, the Wigwam Motel, the Continental Divide, Needles, Burma Shave signs, traveling with my cousin and traveling with friends in their 1957 Caddy. I’m sure I’ll revisit Route 66 in future entries and I’m sure cuz may have mixed emotions about that.

Lettin’ out the clutch, steppin’ on the gas and movin’ a bit further down the highway.