I passed through Albuquerque.I passed through Albuquerque. The weather was getting warmer. I was unwinding a bit as my car traveled west over Highway 66 through the vastness of the desert. I found the open space awe inspiring. Distant mountains that turned to purple when the sun set, a golden sunrise in the morning. There was a sense of serenity and stillness. Maybe I'd discovered my personal island in this vastness of quiet and beauty. I was almost out of gas and my radiator was steaming when I pulled into a gas station at Amboy, California. The gas station and a small cafe was the town. There was nothing else. An extinct volcano crater in the distance added uniquely to the desert scenery. An old timer, wearing a dirty white shirt and baggy black pants, held by suspenders, ambled out. My gas was delivered from the single gas pump that measured the gallons from a glass container that sat on top. "Fifteen gallons. That'll be two-twenty-five." I fetched the money from my wallet as he pulled a lever back and forth replenishing the glass container for the next customer The Amboy cafe was certainly not inviting. Dirty windows and a door with its screen half pushed out. I still decided to risk a cup of coffee. Entering, my suspicions were confirmed, but I felt a cup of their coffee would not poison me. A juke box and pinball machine stood in one corner. Those funny "quippy" little signs were tacked on all walls. As I sipped my coffee, my eyes wandered, catching one sign saying "This Property For Sale." This sign was for real. I continued sipping my coffee and pondered. Yes...I bought the Amboy cafe and gas station. II. Renovation went rapidly. Labor was supplied by the caravans of dust bowl farmers who worked for food for their familys and a small cash reimbursement. I just needed to have building supplies, tools, lumber, and paints available. With the ample labor, I even built six motel rooms. My Amboy cafe and gas station started to thrive. I had found a new life. I was at peace with myself. I was always reminded of my good fortune when the caravans of Okies passed or stopped and begged for food. I always did my best to feed a hungry family or allow them to clean up and rest in one of the motel rooms before it was made ready for the next paying traveler. |