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HELEN'S JOURNAL |
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| Date: 5th May
| Time:10.34pm | Place:Best Western Hotel | |||
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We hadn't been driving long today before we realised that all the traffic ahead of us on the east bound road was driving in one lane only. All the cars and trucks had their headlights on and Leslie recognised it to be a funeral procession that we were following along Route 66. As a mark of respect all the traffic coming in the opposite direction pulled over on to the hard shoulder, or simply stopped in the road if there was nowhere else, and waited until the long, slow procession had passed by. No matter how big and unwieldy the huge trucks were, as soon as they spotted the hearse, they immediately stopped their vehicle wherever they were on the road. We drove behind the long trail in silence until it eventually turned left, and disappeared up a winding path. It was strange to witness this journey on the Road. I was moved by the respect of the other drivers. I have not witnessed this kind of behaviour before and if felt particularly poignant to see it on Route 66, a road kept alive through the love and dedication of those who live on it. Just before we left Oklahoma, we stopped at a large pecan nut store to get 'Chelle some nuts to help her make the pecan pie recipie Mildred had written down for her. Michel Grey who ran the shop gave us more pecan recipies for 'Chelle - one particularly delicious one she suggested includes grahame crackers. Now I know we don't have those in England - so will I have to invest in them and add them to 'Chelle's fast growing cullinary collection, or will Jacobs Cream Crackers do the trick? Michel mentioned she had a sister in Surrey who she had been speaking to yesterday. Always excited by coincidence [Chelle/Michel for instance] I informed her that I had sent a postcard yesterday to my sister in Surrey. ''Small world'' she smiled and when we left her the keyring from Ireland, her original homeland her eyes lit up, "Connemara stone !" she exclaimed happily. Sometimes it feels the things we brought with us to leave, already had people's names on. It was a sort, secret afternoon as we drove the narrow, winding Road through green fields and under dappled arches of blossoming trees. We would pass by small farm's and catch for a moment glimpses of the occupants busy in their own worlds and oblivious to us as we drive by, trying to take it all in, every last bit of it as the sun sets in a warm glow around us. |
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