WE BEGIN A LONG JOURNEY
—GOLDSMITH.
The weather man had been goading us with threats of sub-zero temperature for days. For one reason or another, understandable only to weather men, the extreme cold wave had been deflected, but Chicago was nevertheless an exceptionally cold city on the night of our departure for the Far East and the Antipodes. How to give expression in our wardrobes of our expectation of continued cold weather on the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains and of softened temperatures on the western slope was our problem. We solved it without encumbering ourselves with too many clothes, excluding the extra heavy and the extra light and getting along the best we could on what was left.
I had some business matters to attend to at Rotary headquarters and therefore came to the city from our suburban home a few hours in advance of Jean, who Was to meet me at the Chicago and Northwestern station a few minutes before the time scheduled for departure; namely 9:30 p.m., January 22nd, in the year of Our Lord 1935. About an hour before train time, I was about to say good-bye and to leave, in order to make sure that all was in order at the station, when Ches Perry announced his intention of going to see us off. I said that it would be entirely unnecessary but that I would wait for him in the event that he was determined to go. He said, “Oh, no. I shall re main here to the last minute.” So I went ahead alone and sure enough, as the train was about to pull out, Ches appeared beaming almost to the point of being radiant with jollity and good cheer. Possibly it was the sight of my lassie, of whom I am convinced he is fond. He must be fond of her, very; in fact he permitted her to beat him continuously at ping pong when we were crossing the Atlantic on the Majestic a year ago. “Greater love than this hath no man.” As the train pulled out I had visions of his speedy return to his absorption in the pressing business of Rotary; now pouring oil on troubled waters, now throwing a ray of light on a perplexing problem and always painstaking and patient.
Jean and I did encounter the tail of the blizzard as it was switched over Iowa, Nebraska and Utah, but the cold had so moderated by the time we reached Nevada that we were able to sit on the platform of the observation car.
The first night out we were very tired and turned in early. We had been working at high pressure during the preceding weeks and were glad of the opportunity to rest.
Some time during the night we were somewhat shaken up due to the careless handling of the locomotive. Jean’s first words, spoken while half awake, after the impact of iron against iron were: “Did you do that, Paul?” Pride in the fact that my wife had given my horsepower such high rating restrained me from saying “That’s right, blame everything on the man.” Under the circumstances I merely said, “No, I wouldn’t think of cuffing this little train about in that way; it’s doing the best it can.” There is no diplomacy comparable with that developed in the domestic relationship of a well-regulated family…..
By PDG Ron Sekkel, Rotary First 100 historian
See more at: www.rghfhome.org/harris/