This account
was written by my father Glen S. Remington. It was not dated, but the mention
of his brother’s death in the last paragraph indicates it was written about
1989. Photos and map were added by Nanci Remington.
My First Trip
It was September in 1936 when my
family was getting ready to drive from Rock Island, Illinois to Santa Monica.
California. My oldest brother had been offered a job with Douglas Aircraft Co.
and we were going to new opportunities.
"All six of
us" - Kate, Ken, Bernard, Glen, Ruth, Stan @1927
My father had left the family about
ten years before leaving my mother to raise six children. Needless to say, we
had a very rough going through the depression without a father to help with our
income. My mother got a small mother's pension, and it was up to the rest of us
to earn a little money to help provide the bare essentials. My oldest brother,
Bernard, had the major responsibilities to supplement our - income, but as soon
as we were old enough to get around, we were selling newspapers, magazines, and
anything else that might bring in a few dimes. Of course, we were known as the
poor folks on the other side of the tracks, and if we had remained in Rock
Island it would have been tough to ever remove this stigma. So when we had the
opportunity to move to California and get a new start, we were very excited.
Bernard, Lillian, Kenneth 1932
In those days companies did not
provide moving expenses; if you wanted to work for them, you had to get to them
the best way you could. So in our case, we had to acquire a car and enough
money to get there. We had an auction of all of our household goods and managed
to raise enough money to buy a used 1929 Model A Ford.
1936 - address in Rock Island - 1420
16th (the empty lot)
When we were finally ready to leave,
we tied a rug and just a few other items to the outside of the Model A, and six
of us piled into that small car and away we went. Since none of us had ever
driven, Bernard was given the responsibility to learn to drive. In those days
driver’s licenses were not required, so we did not need to worry about
acquiring one. My two older sisters Katharine and Ruth did not want to drive,
so I had to learn on this trip to relieve Bernard. My next older brother,
Kenneth, decided to go to Chicago rather than California, so he was not
available to help. At the age of 14 years, I took over the driving on part of
the trip.
With very limited cash, we could
only afford to buy two new tires and had to take a chance with the other two
well-worn tires that came with the car. My other brother, Stanley, was just too
young to drive, and my mother was unable to help.
So we crossed the Mississippi River
at Davenport and then headed down the river to Fort Madison. We drove past the
walls of the large prison there; it was my first view of a penitentiary. We
then got on Highway 24 and managed to get to Kansas City without any problems.
Our next large city was Topeka,
Kansas where we drove around the state capitol where Alfred Landon was
governor, and also the Republican candidate for President. It struck me funny
that most of the cars parked around the state capitol were displaying
“Roosevelt for President” bumper stickers. From Topeka, we continued West
towards Colorado Springs. Since we were fast running out of money, we had to
look for help. We stopped at a farmhouse and asked the farmers if they would
help us out with a meal. They were very nice and invited us all in and gave us
our first good meal since we had left home. After eating with them, and
thanking them we continued on towards Colorado Springs. As we approached
Colorado Springs, I had my first view of a mountain: Pike’s Peak. This was a
beautiful sight for me, and I have loved the mountains ever since. We finally
arrived in Colorado Springs after driving through our first mountains. It was a
real thrill for all of us to get this new experience.
Pikes
Peak Avenue with Pikes Peak in the background, 1940
From then on, though, we had more
mountain passes to drive through than we were prepared for. Just south of
Colorado Springs, we had to drive through Raton Pass. Today it is no problem
since Interstate Highway 25 provides an easy way through the pass, but in 1936
it was just a very narrow winding road, with steep ravines on the side of the
road. There was just enough room for two cars to pass each other.
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After crossing many miles of this
treacherous road, we finally came to a wide intersection with a gas station.
Just as we approached the intersection, we had a blowout. Had we had this
blowout along any other part of the road, we would have been in real trouble.
But God made sure we got to this area before the tire blew. With the help of
the gas station, we got the tire patched, and we were on our way to Santa Fe.
I’ll never forget that first trip
to Santa Fe. It was raining when we arrived, and we walked around in the rain
to see the city. What struck me as strange was the houses had rain pipes to the
sidewalks; you had to watch that you didn’t walk under the spouts and become
soaked.
Photographer:
T. Harmon Parkhurst. Title: Santa Fe Fiesta parade, East San Francisco Street,
Santa Fe New Mexico. Date: 1925-1945
My mother knew a doctor who had
moved from Rock Island to Santa Fe, so we looked him up and he loaned us a few
dollars to help us get to Santa Monica. (My mother sent his money to him as
soon as she was able.) From Santa Fe, we took another mountainous trip south to
Albuquerque. Even though we were able to borrow a few dollars in Santa Fe, we
hardly had enough money to buy gasoline to get us to California. Therefore, we
had to look for help in Albuquerque. The Salvation Army gave us a helping hand.
They sent us to a restaurant for a nice meal and filled our gas tank to get us
part way; it was a real big help and I have tried to repay the Army since.
Going west from Albuquerque you
must climb a long steep grade. It was all our little old Ford could do to make
it up this grade, but through the grace of God, it made it. Since we were
afraid to try to drive through the mountains west of us, we had to drop south
and head for Phoenix, Arizona. We managed to get through Phoenix after 11 days
on the road, and headed toward Blythe, California on the old rough ’66.’ It
took most of a day to go from Phoenix to Blythe, but we finally made it.
When we got to Blythe we ran into
another new experience. California has an inspection station, and they made us
take everything out of the car and open all suitcases and boxes to prove that
we carried no fruit. It took us nearly an hour to get through this inspection
station, but it really was great to finally arrive in California.
Fortunately for us, we had some
distant relatives living in Covina, so we had a place to stay until Bernard had
a chance to go into Santa Monica and report to work and find us a place to
live. While staying in Covina another treat was in store for us. Our cousin’s
house was located in the midst of orange groves, so we had the opportunity to
pick nice ripe oranges from the trees and enjoy their luscious taste; it was a
rare time that we ever had an orange in Rock Island. We remained in Covina for
about two weeks when we finally received word from Bernard that he found a
small house for us to rent.
The first stop was 1918 6th Street in Santa
Monica, California. That address now has apartments, but this house across the street may
have been typical of the neighborhood at the time.
As we came down Pico Blvd. to our
new house, we got our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean, and what an awesome
sight it was. What a thrill for me to know that I was to live just six blocks
from the great Pacific Ocean. I had never dreamed I would even see this ocean,
let alone live just six blocks away. As it turned out I became a real beach
bum; spending almost all my time away from school at the beach.
Route
Map – this map follows highways that did not exist in 1936 (over 2000
miles)
In all, it took us 13 days to make
this trip. After many flat tires and crowded days for six of us to travel in
this model A Ford, and with the help of our Lord, we entered into a much better
life. All six of the siblings got through high school; some of us managed to
get a college education, but all of us have led a very productive life.
Bernard, who gave so much of his life for the rest of us, died here in St.
Charles five years ago. He was the greatest brother one could ever want. Thanks
to him the rest of us were given the opportunity to make something of our
lives.
Glen S. Remington
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