1963 – 1977

With four kids in the family there was always some sort of strife going on.  I would say we got along as well as any family with four very strong willed kids.  Since all our family vacations were by car or camper there was a lot of time spent cramped up together in a rather confined space.  As tolerant as my parents were, there were times when the constant battles between us got the best of them and something had to be done.  I am not sure whose idea it was, and I am sure that in today’s world it would be highly frowned upon, but back then it seemed that the only way to get peace among the ranks was to burn off excess energy.

The solution was to make the offending individuals “get out and run a mile!”  Not only was this good exercise and a sure way to burn off energy, it had another desired effect.  When the “runners” got back into the car they were in no mood to talk to anyone; and thus, peace reigned over the land, for awhile at any rate.

Hermosillo, Mexico

While traveling north towards the United States border in Nogales after a week in Guaymas, the usual battles began to ensue.  The main road from Guaymas is Mexico Highway 15D, and it runs right through the middle of Hermosillo.  On this particular occasion, Cindy, my oldest sister, and I had been going at it long enough.  Dad pulled over.  “This cannot be happening, we were in the middle of the city and he was actually going to make us run?”  Sure enough, Cindy and I exited the camper and started running along the highway, past homes, businesses, hotels and even government buildings.  One building we ran past had armed guards with machine guns standing outside.  I was terrified and I am sure the locals we confused by what they were witnessing.  They must have thought we were nuts.   I am sure we did not run a full mile as expected, but this particular running left a very lasting memory.  Cindy did not utter another word for two hours, long enough to enter back into the United States.

Colorado Highway 24 at Balltown (Hwy 82)

Parents make mistakes, and on this occasion they made a big one.  I was told to get out and run; I was the only one.  Now, we all know it takes two to fight but somehow the other “perps” were allowed to miss this particular “running.”  I know who else was involved,  but they will remain nameless.  Let’s suffice to say that I was not guilty!  Like 100% of the people in America’s prisons, I was wrongly accused of the crime and the real perpetrator was still running free.  None-the-less, I did my time.

No one else ever had to run!

Most of our family trips included other family members and friends.  We traveled in loosely packed caravans everywhere we went.  I remember my Aunt Shirley laughing as she told the stories of her coming over a hill on a long highway only to see one or more of the kids in our family running along behind our camper.  She always got a good laugh out of that one, but I do not remember any of her kids running.  They must have been “angels.” 

There were no limits as to when we were told to run.  If we fought then we ran, even if it was the middle of the winter, in the middle of a hot desert or through town.  You would think it would not take long to figure out how to get along but we never learned, and we paid the price for it every time.