Oh, yes. At the crossroads of America truck stop, recognized as a hometown girl by a road warrior in a semi. Now, did I worry about that?
Back all those 40 years ago, counties in my fair state were numbered. My father knew where a car was from just by the first digit or two on the license plate. Because it’s a fairly small state in population, you also knew the county seat for the most part, and yes, Geneva was the county seat. So good deduction on the part of the truck driver, probably a “Good Life” native, also. That was my interpretation.
Our drive continued uninterrupted and we both were properly deposited to enjoy the rest of the summer. I had a lovely gift for my sister, whose high school graduation I missed in order to go on this adventure. My parents probably breathed a sigh of relief that the car made it back in one piece. I continued on to that lucrative summer job – foreman for the detassling crew.
And that brought an entirely new set of driving experiences, one which gave my boss a headache or three.
“Travels with Rene”, a fitting title for your journeys ! Your storytelling is always entertaining💚
Did not think of the license plate angle. I’ve been watching Major Crimes on Netflix so am very tuned in to life’s mysteries, ….ok crimes. 🙂 ~