Taking a break on their holiday trip with the Airstream. Somewhere warm, I assume? The ’61 Ford wagon is sitting pretty level, thanks to that load distributing hitch.
I’ve got lots of memories of this and the other turnpike plazas on the PA, Ohio and Indiana turnpikes, especially from my hitchhiking days. I used to ask my rides to drop me off at the closest plaza before they got off the turnpike, as many of the exits were really dead. I learned this the hard way one bitterly cold night…
It was late at night and my ride pulled off on an exit that was in the middle of nowhere in Indiana. He left me off just outside the little toll house. It was a clear starry night in January, and about zero degrees. I stood there shivering in my feeble Army surplus jacket all night long; maybe only one or two cars came by, and they did not pick me up. I was getting a bit concerned about hypothermia. There was no place to go; the exit went to some little town that was like 10 or 15 miles away.
At about 4AM I asked the guy in the tool booth if I could come in and warm up for a few minute. No way.
I squatted on me feet and pulled my jacket around my legs. If it hadn’t been for the thick Icelandic wool sweater under the jacket, I’m not sure I would have survived.
Around 7AM the first car of the day came. I must have looked desperate enough, as the middle-aged man in a Ford sedan stopped and invited me in. I’ve never been more thankful to get into a warm car. He asked me how long I’d been there. All night.
At the next plaza, he pulled off and said he wanted to buy my breakfast. I can still remember sitting at the counter chowing down the hot eggs, bacon, potatoes, toast and coffee. I was so appreciative. He was my guardian angel.
After that experience, I always asked turnpike rides what exit they were getting off at, and looked at the signs to make sure they let me off at the last plaza before they got off. I would approach folks who looked like they’d be relatively more amenable about a ride, which was better than standing out at some dead exit, especially in the winter and at night.
Here’s a shot of Midway, including the HoJo, from the 1940s.
Rick Sebak of WQED spotlighted the Midway Plaza HoJo in a special called “Pennsylvania Diners & Other Roadside Restaurants.”
It was pretty cool to see all the HoJo items collected over the years, and see the tunnel that connected the two plazas beneath the Turnpike
We drive the PA Turnpike quite often visiting family in Jersey, as well as on our trips to New England and out to Maryland – service hours have gotten shorter for the available options at the Turnpike rest stops, with many of the restaurants inside closed up by the afternoon. These days I’m thankful for Breezewood and the easy access to Sheetz for hot coffee and a nosh that isn’t from 7-11.
If anyone gets to walk the abandoned part of the PA Turnpike, it’s amazing how small the footprint was of the original rest areas.
That entire video is a gold mine! Thanks for sharing! I have fond childhood memories of road trips piled into my family’s Buick Century to see grandparents in Clearfield County, PA. My dad would typically stop at the Hickory Run Plaza on the Northeast Extension of the PA Turnpike, as it was more or less the halfway point from our home. I laugh to think of it now, but it all seemed so exotic to me at the time – all those cars and trucks from faraway places – going through the Lehigh Tunnel! Exciting stuff for a kid. One thing’s for certain: various segments of the Pennsylvania Turnpike and I-80 can present some of the most hair-raising winter weather driving this side of the Rockies. It can humble the most experienced drivers.
Wow. I had been wondering if the tunnel still existed and if so, did it still lead to anything on the other side (as the footprint of the north side building has changed). It looks very narrow and dark. Even if the security issue could be solved, it could not be reopened to the public today without a lot of ADA accessibility work.
I cannot imagine saying no to someone freezing for hours right next to me as I worked in a toll booth on an empty night. There is just a basic level of humanity that was completely ignored. That was really awful.
I was cross the Great Divide on Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park on a late Autumn day, and I drove into a snow storm at about 10,000 feet coming down on the Western slope. The visibility was nearly zero and I creeped along in one of my old Plymouth Valiants. Anyway, I made out a human form ahead of me and immediately stopped to rescue them. They couldn’t have been more grateful and by the sound of his English – clearly spoke German. So to his suprise, I began speaking to him in German as well and I took him down out of the snow storm, down to the town of Grandby.
I just got caught hiking by the snow storm and was lost up there. At that time of year, there were few cars and I am very grateful to have been able to be there when he needed to be rescue.
I have been trapped by snow storms during my years of mountain adventures and I know the fear and stress of being surrounded by silent falling snow and being slowly smothered and buried by it. Half the fear is the silence of it all. One could easily fall asleep and die in those situations. I have been rescued more than once and that is what people do. Nature wants you dead. When you leave civilization, you need to remember that.
So I am pretty horrified by the complete lack of humanity and compassion exhibited by the toll booth operator. Even a serial killer wouldn’t be interested in killing you when they are in a state of hyperthermia like that. That was nuts.
That pretty much sums up how I felt. It was a brutal night, the two of us out there in the middle of nowhere; one inside a warm toll booth, the other outside looking in.
THE PHOTO: A great snapshot of a moment! There’s a ’64 Ford parked out front, so Christmas-time 1963 seems just right—the season dampened a bit by the Kennedy assassination in late November.
The ’61 wagon, I suppose, has the 292 V-8 (wouldn’t there be emblems for one of the larger “Thunderbird” engines?) and I see those two big clamp-on fender mirrors for a better view to the rear. I trust everyone got where they were going OK…
HITCHIKING: Your stories always fascinate me, Paul—I did far less of that, but it was the same era. You give your readers a nice feeling for your one long, cold, quiet and lonely night. My own hitchhiking was always south-to-north from college to home, and I remember once dressing for the moderate southern Ohio weather rather than the snow-belt Great Lakes bluster I was headed for. Brrrrrrr!
I don’t know what Turnpike policy was, but if the toll-taker could have been fired for letting an outsider in, I can’t blame him for refusing. Kindness doesn’t help in the unemployment queue. And it doesn’t pay the bills.
Where those who handle money are concerned, employers often set the bar very high.
I understood that at the time. I wasn’t angry at him; just aware of the reality of the situation.
If I had died of hypothermia there, I wonder how that would have been seen?
Luckily it did not happen Paul, and here we are at CC. Now to the question you ask. How would the death from Hypothermia of the unknown hitchhiker be seen?
I can’t answer that. I’m pretty sure however, had that frozen vagabond not been seen, he would have been smelt, just a few short hours after the mid-January thaw began.
Paul, not to be rude but you created your own problem. You didn’t have a plan and relied on other people to provide you with transportation, food, and lodging. Essentially you expected other people to bail you out of a situation that you created.
Well Toad ;
Few if any haven’t made errors in judgement over their lives .
That’s where wisdom comes from : bad judgement .
I look back and am amazed I’m still alive .
-Nate
As someone who has had to be rescued more than once, I find your postition inexcusable and callous. No one plans to be trapped in deadly weather, because weather changes and we cannot control the weather. We are all human and depend upon one another for survival. From toddlers, we naturally exhibit altruism and empathy. Those are natural emotions that have helped humanity survive this long.
However, I’m wondering about how human you and some of these other postings are.
You would let a young man suffer because “it was his fault”? You would let some government policy prevent you from possibly saving a life? What a horrible way of thinking. I was raised a Christian, so I must disagree. Many other religions would also disagree with your heartlessness as well.
Interesting responses.
I didn’t say I would let him suffer, I just noted that as a privileged young man he chose his situation and expected other people to essentially bail him out when made poor choices. He wasn’t a poor starving person who had no other options, he was a privileged (middle class white American male) who put himself in a situation voluntarily and expected other people to provide him necessities when those choices turned out badly.
Noting that is not callous, just a dose of reality.
He wasn’t a poor starving person who had no other options, he was a privileged (middle class white American male) who put himself in a situation voluntarily and expected other people to provide him necessities when those choices turned out badly.
I left home when I turned 18 had no further financial support from my family. I was on my own. And I was essentially broke at the time.
As I said in my other comment, I did not “expect” anything. There’s no expectations when hitchhiking. You simply let the world know that you’re looking for a ride.
Your comments are starting to get presumptuous and judgmental. I recommend we end this comment thread.
Toad, technically, you’re right, in that I ended up in that situation by my own doing by hitchhiking. This is how young people learn. Hitchhiking involves some risk, even more so in the dead of winter. I’ve always been comfortable with taking certain risks. And the potential consequences.
I didn’t feel entitled to be let into the toll booth to warm up. But I thought I’d ask, as I’ve found out there’s basically two kinds of people in the world: those that can empathize with the human condition (which invariably involves frailty) and those that don’t.
I didn’t bitch or moan about him (or the rules of the game) then and now. I accepted them, and sucked it up.
I didn’t “expect” anything; hitchhiking is putting yourself out there and seeing what happens, not expecting. And I certainly didn’t expect that driver to pull into that plaza and buy me breakfast.
I remember being very impressed by these Pennsylvania Turnpike service plazas as a little kid. My family rarely traveled, but occasionally we’d take a drive somewhere and would stop at the service plaza closest to Philadelphia (near Denver, PA, about an hour west of where we lived). I’d see folks on long trips like this and would just be amazed at how people from all over the country would come together at these places. For a little kid who often daydreamed about far-away places, this was exciting stuff.
And also, I can’t help thinking – driving a 1960s Ford towing an Airstream, in a snowstorm, couldn’t have been fun. I hope they enjoyed Florida when they got there!
Those old rest stops were beautiful but Midway is the prettiest: built of local fieldstone with those beautiful rolling mountains in the background. Though many of them had gotten pretty shabby by the 21st century. In 2007-2009, I did a lot of driving between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia and watched as most of the old rest stops were demolished and replaced with newer ones that were a lot more comfortable but lacked the same charm.
The PA Turnpike is a really beautiful drive, at least from Pittsburgh to Harrisburg. Try it sometime in late October when the leaves are changing.
Pretty scenery from Breezewood to Pittsburgh, but harrowing to drive. Heavy traffic, narrow lanes, constant construction, huge rigs barreling down hills and crawling up. Even worse in the winter, with frequent snow squalls and zero temps.
Not quite like a drive some years back on I-70 across Kansas. 400 of the most stress free miles one could possibly drive. Light traffic, nary a hill and practically perfectly straight. Loafing along at 80 is a breeze and you can cross the state in little more than five hours.
It’s gotten a lot better over the last couple of decades. Yes, the median is very narrow, but there’s super-tall Jersey barrier almost everywhere now.
There are also climbing lanes for the trucks on the long, steep upgrades, and the winding section west of the Allegheny Tunnel has largely been bypassed.
Last, the never-ending road construction seems to be a thing of the past.
Oh no “210”, the eternal construction continues , alive and well.
It’s pretty “nerve jangling” most of the time , on that stretch now a days.
Considering the “insane” tolls now , it’s almost unbelievable.
Started riding along “Rt 30 (Lincoln Hwy) from Breezewood to “Rt 220”.
Connects to tpke @ Somerset. Save’s a bit on the toll.
Traffic , generally, moves along. Don’t lose much time. Still some of those “iconic” murals, oddities, in existence along “30”.
The stretch of Rt 30 from Somerset area to Greensburg is a bit less friendly or I’d just stay on “30”.
As the “tpk tolls” are due to rise , yet again, in January 2023, Rt 30 may look less uninviting.
We used to bypass the Turnpike westbound from Breezewood by taking US Route 30 through Bedford and then taking PA State Route 31 over Allegheny Mountain into Somerset, then getting back on the Turnpike there.
Never did much Hitchhiking, Was lucky, I suppose, always had a car. Did pick up plenty of hikers. Hwy 244 (now 270) and Hwy 40 (now I-64) near and through St. Louis was sometimes seemingly lined with folks, usually young kids like myself, trying to get somewhere. Often it was the same destination as my friends and I, a Concert in one of the larger venues. Sometimes they were passing through to far distant destinations. This was from the late 60s through the mid 70s. By 1980, hitchhiking seemed to become more dangerous for both hiker and or driver.
Wonderfully written article, which, of course, leaves me with the mental thunderbolt of, “Hitchhiking? That was at least fifty years ago.”
A much kinder, gentler, and more trusting time when you could go anywhere by virtue of your thumb. And even if you had long hair, as long as you looked clean and non-threatening you’d have a fairly good chance of getting a ride.
Accommodations? I always preferred graveyards to sleep in, at least it guaranteed you’d be left alone for the night. And between 1968-1973 I covered a lot of ground on the weekends. Always got home safely, had a few mild adventures in the process, but nothing seriously life threatening.
I still pick up hitchhikers, mostly on my regular drive to and from Port Orford, which is in a relatively remote area and feels a bit like a time warp. I picked up one guy twice now, in the same spot, who had his truck stolen. The first time was to go see his truck after it had been found. The second time was to go and get it. I think he was a bit surprised to see me pick him up both times; what are the odds?
I’ve picked up one guy near PO three times now.
And I picked up another guy near PO in the rain; we’ve become friends now. Very interesting guy my age who’s lived most of his adult life outdoors in the woods, mining old creeks and foraging for edibles and such. He’s got lots of great stories, and I may go take him down to the Sierras next summer to a spot where he’s convinced pack rats have hoarded goal in a big pile of rocks.
I very well might still pick up a hitchhiker if I encountered one, but I have to say that it’s probably been 10 years since I’ve seen one. And I even still frequent some of the areas where hitchhikers I know were common.
Which reminds me that at least around here nearly all of those places where one used to encounter hitchhikers are now occupied by folks standing with signs attesting to their needs, and asking for charity. Makes sense, given that both hitchhikers and people looking for handouts depend upon spots where cars come to pause; but it’s somewhat disturbing to see the changed usage of the same locations over the years.
I’m obviously glad that things ultimately turned out ok that winter night at the toll both in PA; but I also think that it’s 50-50 as to whether you wound up with the booth attendant you did who wouldn’t let you in to warm up versus one you didn’t who would have been willing to bend the rules and at least let you in for a short while. I think that a lot of people, regardless of the rules, would have cut you a break. As John Prine said, “Some Humans Ain’t Human”….but I like to think that the flip side to that is many humans are (good).
You better believe I pick up someone in need. While I do know that a stranger could be dangerous, and I do not pick someone up when I am with my kids, I would rather be the man who helps others, than the frighted lemming who scurries away.
Just a month ago, my wife and I found a young man along the road and we discovered that he was trying to get to a new job at Walmart. He was wearing his uniform. His rusted out Toyota truck ran out of gas. He had no money. We picked him up. Bought him a can of gas, returned him to his truck and even phoned Walmart to tell them that he would be late to his new job.
That is what you do. As an adult, you help those in need. You cannot live in fear of the unknown. It is only with courage we can all live together, right?
Right yes .
However, those in charge of things have a vested interest in keeping you scared because a scared populace is more easily controlled .
I work hard at teaching our foster boys that fear is un American .
So true. our corrupt rulers want a scared and divided population. Unfortunately, too many of us buy into what they are selling instead of fighting back.
One is in charge of one’s life. No one is keeping one from being a caring human being. No one ordered you to fall in love with your spouse. No one told you to love your family. No one is ordering you to post here.
No one keeps you from being who you are, except yourself. You choose your fears and excuses from being who you are.
“No one keeps you from being who you are, except yourself. You choose your fears and excuses from being who you are.”
That’s a very simplistic and incorrect view .
Maybe Paul needs to create a hitch hiker’s journal thread so others who have done it will share their stories good and bad .
-Nate
When I was a youngster in the late 1960’s into the early 70’s, we’d pick up the PA turnpike at Carlisle,PA. on trips from NY to North of Bedford, PA in our ’65 Impala to visit the Grandparents.
When Route 80 was completed and opened in NJ and PA in the 1970’s, we stopped using the turnpike.
Nowadays, the tolls have gotten so high on the Turnpike, I avoid it completely
You and a lot of us!
My gosh, Paul – what a nightmare. I came to comment about what a great, nostalgic picture the lead shot was and was thoroughly unprepared for the reading. You should have a similar breakfast at the same time of year, every year, to commemorate not dying that night.
+1!
I’m glad all my hitch-hiking has been in warmer climates/seasons Ive been soaked thru in the rain a few times but never nearly frozen.
I too remember turnpike trips with pit stops at the plazas in Pop’s then new 1959 Peugeot .
Different times for sure ~ I hitch hiked all over California when first I arrived .
-Nate
The Midway Plaza was a common stopping place when I traveled from Pittsburgh to college in the Philly area in the early 1970s. It’s called “Midway” because of its location on the halfway point of the original PA Turnpike section between Irwin and Carlisle, PA (near Pittsburgh and Harrisburg, respectively).
Even though many of the stone buildings used for the rest areas were torn down and replaced, the one at Midway still stands today. Of course Howard Johnson’s is long gone.
Great feature! Your splendid depiction of waiting and freezing at a Pa. TP gateway brought back several memories of doing the same. In 1971 and ’72, a Navy friend and I hitchhiked home to Pa. from New Jersey a number of times. When our helo squadron would get back to our home base in Lakehurst, we’d hit the road. At first, we would wear our woolen dress blue uniforms which was a mistake. We may as well been wearing Charlie Manson masks. On one winter trip, we waited unsuccessfully, just outside a TP toll booth for quite a few hours. Thoroughly frozen. Eventually a semi driver pulled over and we crammed into his cab over. I’m nearly certain that a toll booth employee helped us out on that one. It had just started sleeting in earnest. Eventually we both somehow bought cars and then were transferred to a Fla. home base. I stopped to pick up hitchhikers many times both before and after those days.
The TP service plazas were a treat in the 60’s and 70’s. I’ve likely stopped at most of the old ones a time or two. My memories of the HoJo’s are that they had more than acceptable burgers and a good Reuben. I’ve read that in the earlier days of uncompleted Pa. TP, it had no speed limits. It was said that the service plazas were full of overheated and cracked block Ford V8’s. Evidently, it was a trend to take the family out for a Sunday high speed jaunt from one end to the other and return.
Another hitchhiking thread. https://www.curbsideclassic.com/auto-biography/auto-biography-the-hitchikers-guide-to-the-galaxie-500-and-other-rides/
I did my share. A couple of notable occasions.
When I was living in the Sierras in a small town, and came across a young woman. In the snow. Barefoot. I picked her up and she practically screamed for a place to sleep for the night. Attractive young lady, I took her home but I relegated her to the couch when she asked where was she going to sleep. Gave her a ride back to… near where her boyfriend was beating her up (I’m guessing) Oh well.
And Florida. Actually had good and bad, but the toll booth attendant who insisted I sleep out in the rain overnight when nobody was picking me up stood out. He said he would call the cops if I dared try to sleep under the overhang around the toll station. This was a building, perhaps 20X30, with maybe an 8 foot overhang, but he wanted me out in the rain. Funny what you remember 50 years later… There were some good people there too, but sitting in the rain makes for memories.
Enjoyed the hitchhiking story and accompanying reminiscences. I was hitchhiking from Cleveland to CT in August of 1980 and had my scariest ride ever: I had to threaten violence on the guy to make him pull over. I got dropped off outside of Rochester on I-90 and the hitchhiking was grim. Every car seemed to be a station wagon filled with kids and beach toys, and no room for a stranger. I remember idly noticing a sign for the next rest stop and I think it said seventeen miles away and I wound up walking into that place (I always believed in walking while hitching to demonstrate I was trying). Sore feet, hungry, desperate, I started asking for rides in the parking lot. I had just gotten my umpteenth refusal and a young guy jumped out of a cherry red convertible and motioned me inside and said he’d buy me lunch and give me a ride. Had a great ride a few more hours to the east and then he dropped me off, but it somehow changed my fortunes as I made Hartford by late that night.
Change that brown station wagon to a slightly older blue Ford wagon and that could almost be a shot from my family’s photo album.
In September 1961 my father was transferred from northeast PA. to Mobile, AL. Except for my parents, none of my sisters nor myself had ever gone more than 75 miles from home and had rarely eaten at a restaurant. We would travel from PA to Alabama over the Christmas holidays in 1961/1962 before moving back to PA “permanently”. I remember stopping a few times at plazas like this that year, and several other years in my childhood. The inside of our wagon was always so cold in winter so stopping for a meal was always a big treat…getting to order nearly anything on the menu.
The Midway plaza was the Bedford exit. We grew up there. Dad and Mom would take us to HoJo’s for lunch on Sundays for the fried clams. The building is still there.