A Driving Tour of California, 1967

I only recall one summer driving trip in my childhood to California. We made a Christmas driving trip in December 1965, right before my maternal grandfather died (though at the time I didn’t know he was so ill). And my brother and I flew to California—either with or without our mother—for summer visits with my grandparents. At least once, our grandparents drove us home from Pacific Grove after we flew there.

My dad didn’t like to take the time off from work to make a two-day drive each way from Richland, Washington, to Pacific Grove with the whole family, plus more days for a vacation. He rarely took more than a week’s vacation at a time. But this one time, we took a summer driving trip to Pacific Grove in our Ford Galaxy 500 sedan.

I’m pretty sure this trip was in June 1967, when I was eleven. The pictures I’ve found from the trip aren’t clear on the date. My sister would have been not quite three in the summer of 1967, though she looks younger. But then, she was small for her age. Based on my hair in these pictures (a side part), I think I was a rising seventh grader, so that would have been 1967.

I know that in June 1967, my mother, siblings, and I visited my grandmother in Pacific Grove for the last time. She was about to remarry after my grandfather’s death in January 1966, and she was moving back to Klamath Falls where her second husband lived.

We saw some sights on our way south, stopping first at Crater Lake in Southern Oregon. Despite the heat of the summer that had already hit Richland, snow still piled high at Crater Lake. My mother had always told a story about when it snowed in Klamath Falls on the Fourth of July, but I never really believed it until I saw Crater Lake in late June. My parents must have anticipated the snow, because we kids wore boots, but otherwise, we weren’t dressed for snow and had to scavenge in the car for scarves and jackets.

(Don’t you hate the fruity dress my mother has on? I had had a matching dress a few years earlier, but thankfully, I outgrew mine. It didn’t survive as a hand-me-down for my sister. Or else my sister refused to wear it.)

As we continued to drive to Pacific Grove, we also spent a day (or at least several hours) in San Francisco. I’d never spent any time in the city before, though we always flew into SFO when we visited Pacific Grove by plane. We took the cable car, but I don’t recall much else. It was hilly.

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When we arrived in Pacific Grove, our family spent a day or two with my grandmother, then we left my toddler sister with her and the rest of us continued our grand tour. For many years, my sister resented being left behind, even though she got to go to the beach every day with our grandmother. She may resent it still.

The rest of us headed south to Disneyland and Knotts Berry Farm. Obviously, that was the highlight of the trip for me. I’ve been to Disneyland as an adult, but it’s a lot more fun as a kid. I remember hating some rides, but enjoying Dumbo—I think because I could control the up and down movement. I’ve never been one for roller coasters.

Our circuit also took us to Sacramento to see my mother’s relatives—my grandmother had grown up there. Her twin brother and his wife (Uncle Bud and Aunt Bernice) and her older brother’s family (Uncle John had died many years earlier, but his wife Aunt Ann and their daughter and family still lived in Sacramento). I had to stay by myself with Aunt Ann, while my parents and brother stayed with Uncle Bud and Aunt Bernice. Aunt Ann was very nice, but I was shy and didn’t like being alone. Maybe I understood a bit about how my sister felt.

At least two of my grandmother’s aunts were still alive in 1967 and living in Sacramento. The two aunts I remember meeting were Jean and Margaret Strachan. Neither of them ever married, and they lived into their nineties, which impressed me. One (I think Jean) was blind and the other (I think Margaret) was deaf by that time. Later, I caught a glimpse of these women’s youth, when I found references to their social life in the Sacramento Daily Union in the 1890s.

After the circuit of California highlights, my parents, brother and I returned to Pacific Grove. Then Dad drove home by himself, making the entire drive of 850 miles in one long day. He started before daybreak in Pacific Grove and reached Richland after dark.

The rest of us stayed for another week, then flew home.

As I reminisced about this trip, I wondered if my dad drove the old grandfather’s clock home with him. I know it arrived in our house sometime around 1967. And, having both shipped the clock via UPS and ridden in a car with it, I know there is no good way to transport it. I like to picture my dad on his solitary drive at least having the company of the old clock banging and clanking behind him.

What family vacations do you remember from your childhood?