Yes, Bullfrog, James & Yvonne were black, I guess I didn't post it because I didn't really think about it. My father has always been a horrible person, and he wants nothing to do with any of his kids today, and vice-versa. He has always been violently abusive and even today no one in our family is close, there's always so much animosity, anger...and hate. I spent the first 20 some years of my life trying to figure out what I did as a child that made him dislike me so much. Then spent the next 20 trying to figure out why my mother resented me for becoming successful (in my own way) and not becoming the pathetic failure she expected me to be. You can't pick your family, can you?
**as an afterthought...sorry to hijack your thread with this story, but people tell me it's interesting so here's my Reader's Digest condensed story of my life! (or a few days of it, at least)
**
At the end of 17 and in living in rural Maryland with my mother at the time, I decided to visit my aunt and uncle in California because I was so afraid of my father tracking me down and running me over, or beating me up again. So I stuck out my thumb for the first time and decided to hitchhike to California.
The more people told me I was crazy and that I'd never make it, that I'd starve and die; the more determined I was to finish the trip. So I left on a cold winter night and got a few miles away and it was getting late, so I found a motel with an all night laundry and I sat in a chair and slept there all night. At six in the morning I began my trek north to the closest major highway to take me west. I got one major ride from a trucker to Pennsylvania, and I really weirded out when he grabbed a piece of hash and asked if I wanted to smoke it with him. Back then, 1979, people just assumed that anyone who would hitchhike cross-country was a stoner.
After I got out of his truck, I went a few more miles and got to Interstate 80 and a guy heading to Oregon gave me a lift to Utah, then from there another lift from a trucker into Sacramento. So despite the nay sayers and the caring people who saw I was just a young troubled teen, I made my journey by thumb to California. My whole trip began in Frederick, Md at 6 am on a Monday morning, and I landed in Sacramento that Thursday at 9 am...less than four days to get 3500 miles. I forgot to mention, when I left I had just the clothes on my back and 28 cents in my pocket.
Being naive, young and innocent, I was unaware of what some people would try with me, being that although I was 17 I was very small and looked all of 14. One guy that gave me a ride told me he had kids my age and was acting fatherly, then asked if I wanted to drink some beer with him to relax, because he allows his own son to drink with him. I drank a lot back then, dear old dad got me hooked on alcohol at 12, so I went with this guy to his hotel room to 'drink beer', unaware that he had ulterior motives. He kept trying to get me to sit on the bed with him and I just wanted to drink beer. Finally I had enough and told him to knock it off and give me a ride to where he said he would. He did. I got to my aunt & uncle's home and of course nobody knew where I was for three days, so it was a big surprise to everyone. Things didn't work out so well there, so I hitchhiked up and down the California coast a couple times.
Being that young looking kid, a few more old pervert men tried to entice me into spending time with them. It never happened, but more than a few old men grabbed at my thighs or tried to cop a feel on me. I opened the door of the car one time and stepped out, he was driving 35 mph at the time and hit the brakes hard so by the time I hit the ground he wasn't going that fast. I had had enough of that guy begging me to come back to his trailer and allow him to give me a __________(use your imagination).
I continued on for the next day or so, walking much of the time until I felt like sticking my thumb out. One guy was really kewl. He had a 12 pack of Budweiser and asked if I wanted one, which I did, and it went down pretty quick. Then we drank some more and he got another 12 pack and I helped him finish that. He was a guy who lived in Guerneville, hunting and fishing in the mountain areas, and was fascinated about my trip. We talked for a couple hours and when he finally had to head home he gave me the name of a friend of his to look up when I got to LA, and then he gave me 20 bucks from his wallet, and insisted I took it. I still remember his name to this day and have come thisclose to tracking him down, but he moved to another town. I thanked him and continued my trek.
Then later that night about 1 am, I was on some back road north of LA off the 101, and in the middle of nowhere with pitch black skies and no lights, and a car came by after about an hour of nothing. I stuck out my thumb and it was probably the worst thing to happen to me. The driver passed me then stopped, and as I was running up to the car he started backing up and nearly ran me over. Like a fool, I still got in and he reeked of alcohol and pot.
As he started driving, he went into graphic detail about his desires with me. When we got to an intersection, I thanked him for the ride and went to get out, and he grabbed me by the neck and pulled a knife, telling me, and I remember his words to this day: "Please stay in the car. If you try to get out again I will cut you up". Yeah, he actually said 'please'. I was scared, because he just went into graphic detail a couple minutes earlier, and then displayed a knife. He turned left (the freeway was to the right), and he drove a little ways and pulled over to some dark, empty lot behind a run down gas station. I thought he was going to attack me, but he got out to relieve himself. I didn't think to grab the keys from the ignition because that was stealing (yeah, a conscience even in the midst of terror) so I just got out and started running towards the freeway. Once there, I ran down the shoulder and kept running, and checking over my shoulder and saw his car. He drove past me...whew!
That night I stopped hitchhiking for a while, and spent the day in the LA area, Griffith Park (think "HOLLYWOOD" sign) and after a day in LA I started heading back to my aunt's place. I walked about 28 miles and then laid down on a hill to get some sleep. Finally, at 5 am I stuck out my thumb and headed back, and my uncle promptly put my on a plane and sent me back to the person who was the cause of all my problems: my father.
Anyway, sorry for hi-jacking the thread...but that's kinda where I'm from.