There was a time in America, before I was born, when people stood on the side of the road and stuck out there thumb, indicating they could use a ride. Cars and trucks would stop and the hitchhiker would hop into a stranger’s car. The rides were for a distance, some short, some long; for a time, some short, some long; for a memory, some short and some never to be forgotten.
I grew up in inner city middle America in the 1960’s. Hitchhiking was common and the norm in my community. The stories that follow are of my days hitchhiking, between 1967 – 1983. I am sure these are not novel experiences, but they are my experiences. I will attest to these being accurate to my memory of the events that transpired. My memories are recounted as all memories are, with inaccuracies, errors and omissions.
If you recognize a story or remember your own hitchhiking story, send it to me and we can collect hitchhiking stories together.