Around the Kitchen Table: How holiday travel has changed

Once the Halloween candy disappears, holiday travel is a hot topic for news outlets everywhere. Everyone heading to Grandma’s or back home for the holidays has to run the gauntlet of flight cancellations, delays, higher fuel expenses, traffic jams and the inevitable threat of foul weather, all of which could potentially wreak travel plan havoc.

But it hasn’t always been this way. It just seems like it. Back in the 1930s when Dad was growing up, travel, even by car, was a luxury few could afford. Even if you had a vehicle, most were not designed for long distance travel and good roads were scarce. Commercial airline flights were not as widespread as they are today and only the well-to-do could afford to fly.

Then along came World War II, with its gas rationing, rubber drives and other restrictions that kept most close to home. Tires were like gold, if you could find them, but most folks had to “patch, patch, patch,” and hope they’d hold. With everything going to fight the war, more people had to walk to work or depend on neighbors and friends who did have vehicles. (Carpooling is not a new idea, just a recycled one.)

My Aunt Babe worked at a ship-building plant on the coast. She was one of millions of “Rosie the Riveters” doing their part to support our forces overseas. Most lived close enough to walk to work – within three miles. Today when you say “close by” it usually means just down the block or around the corner. Hard to believe, but many of those women walked more miles in a day, before and after working a 12-hour shift, than most people today walk in a week! Times were tough, but so were they.

My dad patching a tire for his sister Babe circa 1947. They had pooled their money to buy a vehicle for the family’s use.

Then in the 1950s, when the nationwide interstate system expanded and crisscrossed the country, both motor travel and access to vehicles improved. Americans hit the road in greater numbers than ever before. Remember the slogan “See the USA in Your Chevrolet?” Urged on by the lovely Dinah Shore and the new prosperity of the post-war economy, we were beckoned to explore the open road and our country’s unique treasures.

My dad and mom took my sisters out to California in 1956 to visit relatives, cruising a big part of the way on the now famous Route 66. They had an old “hoopty,” as Dad called it, and that worn-out Pontiac gave them fits before they got back home. On top of all the trouble they had, Mom almost swarmed crossing Arizona and Southern California without air conditioning – but somehow they made it.

When my brothers and I came along, we tended to stay closer to home for a while. We did make several trips to Iowa to see Mama’s sister and her family, but all I remember about those trips were the giant mosquitoes in Arkansas and spending all day at a small town park in Missouri while a local mechanic changed out our transmission.

Even with all the breakdowns, flats and mechanical challenges of traveling by automobile, America’s love affair with their vehicles hasn’t waned. In fact, it seems the older cars and trucks are becoming all the rage again. With modern improvements in refurbishing engines and better roads to travel, car and truck clubs are growing by the year. I am a sucker for nostalgia and whenever I see an old 1950s Bel Air or a ‘60s Buick Electra, I can’t help but smile.

Like smells and sounds, the sight of one of those icons from the past rolling down the road tends to trigger a wave of memories – like how small I felt riding in the back seat of one of those behemoths, or how my grandmother’s hair looked from the back, or how much fun it was to watch out the window and count cows or look for out of state license plates, and make fingerprints animals on the fogged up windows.

Whether you’re going across town or across the country this holiday season, take time to be thankful for our improved way of travel and reminisce a little with your own favorite travel stories. Share them with your family as you gather this year. Who knows? You may start a new tradition.

by Tamra M. Bolton