Dear Mr. Walker and all good friends of the Press circle:
Without a chance to write and ask if you would like a travel letter, I am taking that chance, seizing a few quiet moments that I may call my own. One of the delights of travel is sharing what you can with those who may not get to travel that road. According to some of Clyde Lemon's friends and ours, not many would be so foolhardy as to travel six or seven thousand miles by bus. But the hardest part is over, and we're still going strong. If your purse is not inflated to air travel, then, we maintain, Greyhound is the best for long stretches. Cousin Ina is not quite equal to night-and-day bus riding. Clyde had never been to the West Coast, so he elected to come with us. His initial opinion of night bus riding was not very flattering, but now he is a seasoned veteran. Setting forth on the night of the 19th, we toured the city of Chicago the next day. Then on to the flooded area of Iowa, south of Sioux City, to visit Gilkerson cousins. One has to witness the ruined grainfields, to realize how heavy is the loss to farmers in such a calamity. Two washed-out bridges and new rainfall on dirt roads prevented our visiting two more cousins in Mapleton.
Nebraska and eastern Wyoming were crossed at night. Southwestern Wyoming is rugged and rocky. We saw antelope feeding on the plains, and saw snow on the distant mountains. At Rock Springs we were invited to switch from our bus to a brand new Scenicruiser, made by General Motors for the Greyhound Co. That was an ideal area for its maiden trip and test run - for we could look up through the green glass top at the towering peaks in Utah. Behind the driver are four seats - for those who, I presume, want to be close to terra firma. Then you go up three steps to this great upper deck where the great expanse of glass-windows, softly tinted green at the top, enables you to look out in every direction. Four company officials and the "best bus driver in the Rocky mountain area" made it quite impressive. A photographer was waiting on the highway near Ogden, Utah, to take a picture, which will appear in Look magazine very soon, (Sorry, I can't tell you which issue.)
Now it is the first day of September - and we are in nostalgic Long Beach. In the meantime we have traveled along the beautiful Columbia River, into Portland; through Olympia, with its lovely Capitol, into Seattle. We were charmed with Seattle. Had to hurry on down the rugged Oregon coast, and through the wonderful, awesome Redwoods to San Francisco. Of course, no city can match Frisco - for it has everything: fine climate, Old World quaintness and New World magnificence - with a courtesy in its people that is outstanding. Oh, there are so many little human interest stories in this trip. But this letter grows too long already. I assure Clyde Lemon's friends that he is in good hands and good health in Glendale - and can linger longer than Virgil and I, who must start home tonight, in order to visit the Grand Canyon. If you would like to hear more, let me know.
Florence B. Taylor
1776 Urbana Rd.,
Cleveland 12, Ohio
Editor: Clyde Lemon and Ina referred to in this letter are Saltsburg residents.
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