This shell of an old phone booth is wrapped up in the bushes next to the Bunkhouse. It brings back memories of a time when these upright communication devices were an important part of our lives. You could even sleep in them if you had to!
Back in 1966, Crazy Louie and I hitch-hiked down to Ensenada Mexico, to drink. The guy that gave us the ride from Tijuana ended up kidnapping Louie, took him back into the States, raped him, and then dumped him off on a beach in Santa Monica.
I searched for Louie that entire day and finally hitched back to the States myself. Louie traveled for a couple days, sleeping in phone booths. In one of the most bizarre coincidences of my life, I found Louie in a city park in Long Beach three days later. He was sitting on a bench with his head in his hands and a guy with a long white beard was standing over him.
He told me later that he was sitting there in a hopeless state, tired and hungry, when this old guy walked up and asked him what was wrong. Louie told him he was trying to find me, and the guy told him to pray about it. Meanwhile, I was in the same park, taking a nap on the grass. When I got up I went to the center of the park, instead of continuing down the main street, and there was Louie and the old man.
Louie was a touch on the slow side and I don’t think he would have survived if I hadn’t found him. We made it back intact to our hometown of Paradise, CA, and Louie became quite religious. Me? I just kept traveling…
Why is it that people let Hollywood tell them what things are like. Angles do not have wings and wear white robes. I was very lost in drugs for many years. I got my life back through a church which was the only non political, non pushy, non doctrine pushing, non we are right they are wrong church I ever saw in 25 years of church going. I read a lot and listened and learned.
I was in Anchorage Alaska one day during a period of time that I was asking God to restore our devastated finances. I was on one side of a very large parking lot, about the size of a football field. A very dirty Indian man walked up to me and said he had not had anything to eat for a day or so and could I help him. It was obvious he had drank up his money instead of getting something to eat. I gave him enough money to get a meal. He thanked me and walked away down the parking lot.
I headed in the other direction. I went about twenty feet and stopped and turned around to see how he was doing, and there was no one there. Just an empty parking lot. Our finances took a big up swing during the next year.
God sends angels to help in many ways. Sometimes, according to the word, to see how we will act. Such as needing money and being willing to still help others in worse needs. Those angels look like regular people. I think you saw one who was helping Louie.
Some day if you wish I can give you two more personal stories that prove we are not alone in all this. If we ever get some real time face to face I would love to swap stories about hitching around Southern Calif in the sixties and too many nights in TJ.
Great story Rod. I do believe in angels, but most of the time we don’t see them. We just benefit from their presence. I’ve swapped a few stories with you old friend, but I don’t recall any “hitching in S.C. stories” :-)