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On Highways and the Airways

     When you're strange
     Faces come out of the rain
     When you're strange
     No one remembers your name
     When you're strange

     --People Are Strange, Strange Days, Densmore/Morrison/Kreiger/Manzarek, 
       © Doors Music Co, ASCAP, 1967

The Hitchhiker

     With all these Hermes-Mercury-highwayman-traveler connections and the dangers on and spirits of the road as a backdrop, there comes the story of The Hitchhiker.  A radio play first performed and aired in 1941 by the Mercury Theater Players, this is a haunting tale of one man’s cross-country automobile journey and the hitchhiker he passes by again and again and again-- tormenting him and testing his sanity on the way.  Written by Lucille Fletcher, the play was reworked for various venues over the years--including a version shown during the first season of the Twilight Zone television series almost two decades later.

     Fletcher’s radio play begins on Route 66 just west of Gallup, New Mexico, in an auto camp--the precursor to the modern-day motel, or a “proto-motor-hotel.”  We hear the main character, Ronald Adams, in an attempt to maintain his calm, saying to himself:

I'm thirty-six years of age, unmarried, tall, dark with a black moustache.  I drive a 1940 Ford V8, license number 6V7989.  I was born in Brooklyn.  All this I know. I know I'm at this moment perfectly sane, that it is not me that's me that's gone mad, but something else, something utterly beyond my control.  But I must speak quickly.  At any moment the link with life may break.  This may be the last thing I ever tell on earth - the last night I ever see the stars.  Six days ago I left Brooklyn to drive to California. 
     Ronald’s train of thought is interrupted; the scene segueing to a rainy morning in Brooklyn six days earlier.  His mother, in a tearful good-bye, is wishing him good luck on his journey west and expressing to him her worry about his driving such a distance alone.  The dialogue between them concludes with:
Ronald:  Oh, Mother. There you go again.  People do it every day.

Mrs. Adams:  I know.  But you'll be careful won't you?  Promise me you'll be extra careful. Don't fall asleep or drive fast or pick up any strangers on the road.

Ronald:  Strangers!  Don't you worry, there isn't anything going to happen.  It's just eight days of perfectly simple driving on smooth, decent, civilized roads with a hot dog or a hamburger stand every ten miles.

[Author's Note:  I must point out here that, although written before the onset of World War II, during the waning days of the Great Depression when hobos and tramps were still flush upon and crisscrossing the American landscape, here we find a mother admonishing her adult son about the dangers of the road and to not pick up hitchhikers!  This was supposedly back in some of the same “innocent” and “good old” days when it was--ahem–so much safer out there.]
     The radio play then goes on to chronicle Ronald’s road trip, starting at the Brooklyn Bridge, on which he first encounters and passes by the image of a hitchhiker in the rain.   After six days and many more times passing this very same hitchhiker trying to flag him down as he state-line-by-state-line crosses the country, Adams feels he is going crazy and grapples to get to a gas station pay phone to call home in an attempt to emotionally right himself by talking to his mother.  But when a strange woman answers the phone and informs him that Mrs. Adams is in the hospital due to a nervous breakdown caused by the death of her son, Ronald, six days before in a car crash on the Brooklyn Bridge, Ronald realizes that this ubiquitous hitchhiker he had been passing time and again must be a spirit of some kind trying to flag him down to go with him on a ride to the “other side.”

     The story ends in the same place and time as it began.  Here we hear Ronald Adams complete the deep, desperate, introspective monologue that the play opens with:

And so I'm sitting here in this deserted auto camp in Gallup, New Mexico.  And so, I'm trying to think.  I'm trying to get a hold of myself.  Otherwise...otherwise, I'll go crazy.  Outside it is night.  The vast, soulless night of New Mexico.  A million stars are in the sky.  Ahead of me stretch a thousand miles of empty mesa and mountains, prairies, desert.  Somewhere among them, (the hitchhiker) is waiting for me--somewhere.  Somewhere I shall know who he is and who I am.
     If ya give this man a ride 
     Sweet memory will die 
     Killer on the road, yeah 

     --Riders On The Storm, LA Woman, 
© 1971
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I-40 West, Santa Rosa, NM, @ Exit 277:
Universal Language    

    It seems curious that these words, written to be spoken by a man named Adams for a theater production company called Mercury, concerns a traveler, a hitchhiker, and a galaxy of stars.  It would be about a decade after this script was penned, that another man by the name of Adams--Douglas Adams--would be born to one day write his own stories about a guide to hitchhiking the galaxy.


     I fly a starship across the Universe divide
     And when I reach the other side
     I'll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
     Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
     Or I may simply be a single drop of rain
     But I will remain
     And I'll be back again, and again and again and again and again...

     –Highwayman, El Mirage, Jimmy Webb, 1977 © Seventh Son Music

 
    In 1974, thirty-three years after the first broadcast by the Mercury Theater cast of The Hitchhiker, I, at 18 and half the age of the fictitious Ronald, but like him also dark and sporting a black mustache, having just passed through Gallup on a Greyhound, was let off the bus on Interstate 40–also a part of the former Route 66--in Sanders at the intersection of Route 666.  It was from there I hitched my first ride.  Waiting for that ride down that long desert road, there I stood with all my possessions and provisions, most of which were contained in a backpack strapped onto my shoulders and the rest, clutched in my hand, were in my old black-and-red DeWitt Clinton High School book bag.  It turns out that the same Bernard Herrmann who took the trip with Lucille Fletcher, and wrote the score to The Hitchhiker, began his formal music education in 1927 as a student at the same DeWitt Clinton High School from which I had recently graduated.

     I have a rendezvous with Life,
     When Spring's first heralds hum.
     Sure some would cry it's better far
     To crown their days with sleep
     Than face the road, the wind and rain,
     To heed the calling deep.
     Though wet nor blow nor space I fear,
     Yet fear I deeply, too,
     Lest Death should meet and claim me ere
     I keep Life's rendezvous.

     –I Have a Rendezvous with Life, Countee Cullen

     [The first published poem of Countee Cullen (1903-1946); originally appeared in 1921 in The Magpie (1921), the literary magazine of DeWitt Clinton High School, from which Cullen gradauted-- as did Bernard Hermann, and as did I.]
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Messages written by hitchhikers found in Gallup, New Mexico, 8/4/04:

     I-40 E, Gallup, NM, @ E. Gallup, Exit 26:
          
          Savage 7/9/83

          Bob Allen
                +
         Indianapolis
         6 years of hitching
         Going to retire
             10/11/82

         Happy Trails Bar

         Thompson, L.(?)
               5-3-89

          [Scribble]

          Screw the ICC Big Shots
          IDX
          BLDG

          Praise God

          ORIENCE(?)
             11-3-03

           2-8-85
          Cold (10°)
          Don’t Hitchhike
          Stuck all night

           Rod Kelsey was here
                  5-25-86

          Vanderwagen
          New Mexico
          Good fuck
          Tight asshole
          [drawn a torso of a spread-eagle nude woman]

          [Drawn torso of nude woman’s back a la Picasso, but a tad more explicit in crotch]

          [Drawn a penis]

     I-40 West, Gallup, NM, @ Miyamura Dr., Exirt 22:

          John Henry 4/2/98
          FLA. To Ariz
          32° and windy

     I-40 East, Gallup, NM, , @ Miyamura Dr., Exirt 22:

          Antelope 3/95

          [Same scribble]

     I-40E, Gallup, NM, @ US491 (former 666), Munoz Dr.:
 
          To Maine 2/15/04

          Potent Minorities
          Coins of Copper
          Winter’s Catharsis
          Journey to St. Louis

          $oul is Pricele$s

          The Blue Birds of Happine$s

          JD heading to MD 2002

          El Paso Dog
          Heading for Maryland II
          Heading for Maryland 8/87
          This ramp sucks

          Lance McLendon loves Mina

          White     Yer     2002-3
          Out!       Out!

          Jay J. Armes
          Eats dog shit

     I-40 West, Gallup, NM, @ US491 (former 666), Munoz Dr. on ramp:

          Wesley 21 yrs thumbing
          07-07(?)-00
          The great American hitchhike lives on!!

          Rush 7/12/91
          (Stylized lettering)

          Tumbleweed 8-18-88?82?84?

          Jumper 10/2/01

          Read this bitch

          Stoney
          PHX, AZ Bound
          Sept. 12, 87
          Happy Birthday

          Loretta Loves Thomas

          (Same scribble; amidst which the following rather creepy things were partially
           decipherable:)
          81 Safari
          Mojave for San Diego Co
          Kings Co killings
          Needles
          California 1990
          Pony tail
          Boron   1982
          Green River M_____
          Arroyo
          1989 over 100 bodies
          Safari
          GMC Safari
          Mike lived in some LA hotels
          McArthur Park and 5th Ave
          Almar Café
          Downtown LA

           On other pole:
          Shawna was here   1-26-00

          Tracey was here 10-5(?)-94(99?)

          Rage was here   8-28-01

          35ft west off here is a splice in black
          leg + ground + PVC (St. Highway Drive sign in PVC)
          3/23/89   (10-98)?

          Jerry Garcia was here in 1991

          Dough Boy was here 9-13-95

          I fucked your wife last night

          (More scribble)

           still another pole:

          (More scribble)

     I-40 West, Gallup, NM, @ W. Gallup exit:

           On Seatbelt sign:

           LA
           Hans 04

          On pedestrians prohibited sign:

          West Side RSC  

          On pole down ramp:       

          John French(?)
          From NC TJ
          Back to Winslow

          (same scribble)

          Have Faith
          [written inside a drawn cross]

          Esther Rodriguez
          I love U

          RJB
          [in heart]

          M. Lashley(?): Time 000
          Destination:   Sanders ARZ

          Cole
          04
          Z

          This place sucks

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