Dallas, Texas to Pueblo, Colorado

Saturday, July 30th found us in the beautiful city of Dallas, Texas, after another day of travel.  Called at the home of Rev. H. B. Hudnut, another of Jimmie's Seminary classmates, now Associate Pastor at "City Temple", the largest Presbyterian Church of the south.  Spent twelve days with the Hudnuts, seeing Dallas from every angle.  Visited the Continental Gin Company, where cotton gins were made.  Saw one in operation. 
Played golf, not minding the heat, the first since leaving Washington.  The days are so hot in Dallas that people do their calling in the morning, close the houses and try to keep cool in the afternoon.  The evenings are cooler and restful.  Hudnuts lived a few blocks from S. M. U.
Throughout this section of Texas, the Oil Companies were having price fights and in Dallas we paid as low as twelve cents a gallon for gasoline.
Our first night after leaving Dallas, was spent in Wichita Falls.
Throughout our journey, we had been experiencing considerable tire trouble, partly due to the heavily loaded car and partly to the condition of the roads.  Before leaving Wichita Falls we invested $36.00 in two "full-size, over-size" Racine Tires, and with the assurance that these would outlast the car, we started out, "riding on air".  So confident were we that most of our tire trouble was over, we couldn't believe our ears when we heard a loud "bang" and realized the car was rather dizzy.  We stopped, and to our dismay found a 10-penny spike in one of Those Tires.  The tire was not alone in feeling "flat".
We continued northward thru the Texas Panhandle, stopping in Amarilla Saturday night.  Attended church Sunday morning in a fine new Presbyterian Church.  A young lawyer was the speaker that morning, and Jimmie, being an "orthodox preacher" was asked to take part in the services.  The regular minister was having his vacation and having spent all their money on the new building they did not have supplies for the pulpit, but had various members of the congregation take charge of the service.
The day was extremely hot and we traveled slowly during the afternoon.  When almost into New Mexico, we encountered a terrific rain and electric storm which slowed us up until finally we were forced to stop.  When we were ale to start again, we found ourselves in "Texas Gumbo".  Only those who know "Gumbo" have any idea of our experience.  We slid into Clayton, New Mexico and for the first time on our journey, decided to hire a cabin to be more comfortable.  We soon doubted the wisdom of this move, for the cabin leaked.
The next days travel took us out of the sand and cactus country into the mountains.  We had numerous flat tires caused by the spines from the cactus.
We passed many flocks of sheep, with the shepherd driving, instead of "leading" them, as is the custom in the far east.
The altitude at Claude, New Mexico, was 3800 feet and here we felt high and dry, after aour experience in the flooded territory.
Soon we were at Mt. Dora, with an altitude of 6,000 ft. and up we went through Capulin Mountains, over beautiful Raton Pass at 10,000 ft. elevation, and now we were "up in the world".  Night fell upon us at Pueblo, Colorado, where we found a satisfactory Tourist Camp.

1926 Flood Detour

Spent twelve days with the folks in Grand Bay.  Sightseeing - Shopping in Mobile - Fishing in the Bayou Le Batre - Swimming in the Gulf of Mexico.
Got a boat and went fishing with Dad and Grayce out in the Bay.
Went with Pikes for a beach picnic at Beloxi, Mississippi.
Went Crabbing one evening - Henri's first experience.  Caught crabs and ate them too.  They were good!
We also learned how to grow cotton, sweet potatoes and watermelons.  Incidentally, Dad's watermelons were just right and we consumed several daily.
On Sunday, Jimmie preached in the local Baptist Church.
Wednesday, July 27th, we left Grand Bay, well supplied with fried chicken, watermelons, ect.  Traveled leisurely along the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, thru Passagoula, Biloxi and Gulfport, north thru Hathesburg, Miss. to Wendenhall.  Here we camped for the night in a school yard directly across from a Baptist Church, where the colored Brethren were holding meeting.
After a few hours drive the next morning, we arrived in Jackson, Miss. where we learned we could not cross the "Father of Waters" at Vicksburg as we had planned, but must retrace our road to Natchez where we would find the only southern road (westward) in tact - the "Dixie Highway".
Back we went, traveling slowly, and camped 20 miles north of Natchez, at Church Hill.  Friday, July 29th, we were ferried safely across the Mississippi River and continued westward on the Dixie Highway.  This highway had been elevated, after the food to make it passable and even on it, we had a detour of fifty miles or more.

We drove for miles and miles with a swift stream of water on either side of the road - backwater from the flood.  All kinds of debris, animal carcasses, etc., were to be seen everywhere.  What had been an inhabited area was still under water.  We talked with people 25 miles west of the river and learned that the water there had been eleven feet deep.  Such was the result of the flood of 1926.
We stopped along the road, east out a hook and line and in no time had fish for supper.  We ate our fill, too, for there were plenty more in the water, waiting to be caught.  That night we traveled until eleven o'clock and were 200 miles from Natchez (at Ruston, La.) before we felt we were safe from the dampness and odors of the flood.

The First 2900 Miles

June 27th found us headed for Latrobe, Pennsylvania to meet some of the "wife's folks."  Our route took us thru Scranton, Wilkes Barre, Berwich - industrial centers.  At Sunbury, we crossed the Susquehanna River, then across a mountain range into Lewistown, where we spent the night.  From Lewistown, we followed the William Penn Highway and crossed several mountain ranges before we reached Latrobe.
Pa Gillespie may sing the praises of Glen Spey, N.Y., but Henri will give three cheers for her native state-

"I love thy hills and mountains high

Thy valleys rich and wide;

May heaven in love watch over thee,

Fair Pennsylvania!"

At Latrobe, we visited more relatives, had several picnics, painted the car and assembled our camping equipment.  This being our first camping experience, and not knowing where we might "settle down," we had the Honeymoon Express well loaded.

Sister Mary arranged to have her vacation while we were in Latrobe so we had a guide on our journeys.

When July 8th arrived, we again packed up and headed for Ohio.  Arriving at Mt. Pleasant, we called on Jimmies roommate of Seminary days - The Rev. Paul T [Shorty] Gerrard, with whom we spent the afternoon.  That night we stayed at the home of another Seminary friend, Rev. George H. Rutherford, in Dillonvale, Ohio.

The next morning we traveled to south Chester, West Virginia, following the "Beautiful Ohio," much of the way.  The scenery was beautiful along this valley.  The chestnut trees were white with blossoms and everything was lovely until night approached and we looked for a camping spot.  In several towns listed as having "tourists camps", we were informed we would find better accommodations at some of the service stations outside the town and each time, we started out hopefully in search of one of them and drove for miles and miles, but all we could see was a steep mountain on one side and the River on the other.  We had about decided our first nights camping would be done in the car, when coming to the top of a hill, we found a Service Station well above the fog and dampness of the river and with sufficient ground for comfortable camping.  It was not long 'ere two weary travers were in the land of dreams.

Next day was Sunday, July 10th, and checking up our mileage, we learned we had driven 300 miles Saturday and were now 30 miles south of Charleston, W. Va.  We started out to find a church, but soon discovered we were nearing the "Suthern Mountains" where churches were few and far between and by the time we reached civilization again, the church services were over.

We had mountain traveling all afternoon, with numerous showers of rain, so we camped early, some few miles south of Bluefield, Virginia, in a school yard, which seemed to be the only available cleared ground.  Jimmie hiked half a mile to a farm house for water and while we were cooking supper, a couple from New England, traveling home from Florida, joined us to spent the night.

Monday we had mountains and more mountains, but soon left Virginia and traveled pretty well thru Tennessee, in a south-westerly direction, keeping west of the Smokey Mountain Range.  As we passed thru Knoxville, we turned our watches back and lived an hour over again, for we were now in the Central Time Zone.  Passed a Confederate Battlefield and Cemetery.  There are many reminders of Civil War times as one goes thru Tennessee.  This night we camped at Sweetwater, having driven about 270 miles.

July 12th, after driving around in circles trying to find our way out of Chattanooga, we finally had to ask an officer on a busy street for directions.  He very graciously outlined our route which meant we must go in the opposite direction from the way we were headed.  Jimmie always doing things in a hurry, wanted to turn right around, whereupon the officer informed him he couldn't do that.  "Well I just did," said Jimmie.  "Don't do it again," replied the officer and we didn't.  Leaving Chattanooga behind us, we were soon out of Tennessee.  Passed Chickamauga and Lookout Mountain in the Northwest corner of Georgia and before long found ourselves in Alabama.  How did we know it?  - By the roads!  The farther we went, the worse they became and they were nothing to boast of before reaching Alabama. 

Our first night in Alabama, we camped at a place called "Seven Springs".  Thirty-three miles north of Birmingham.  We had long since abandoned the hope of finding regular Tourists Camps and were glad to find any place near some drinking water where we could "pitch our tent".

The Seven Springs were rather interesting, for there were truly seven springs within a few rods of each other, six were mineral springs and one was fresh water.

One of the natives came out to look us over and talk "Politics.".  Speaking on voting, he said, "Well, I reckon I'll vote the straight Democrat ticket, I always do."  Judging from his easy-going attitude, I don't believe he would have exerted enough energy to read the ballot. 

July 13th and it wasn't Friday.  We wondered how roads could be any worse, but they were!  In addition to everything else that might be the matter with roads, Alabama's are corrugated.  We decided we were going up and down as much as we were straight ahead.  We drove what seemed like ages this evening trying to locate a place to camp.  In this part of the country all kinds of domestic animals roam at large and it is not infrequent to find a cow, pig or mule lying in the middle of the road - even the animals didn't recognize the roads as such!  The pigs, -Razar backs- just run everywhere.

At 8:30 we camped in a farmer's front yard, just north of Jackson.  Early the next morning we were awakened by the Barn-yard Symphony plus the farmers children who had come to examine the tent. At Jackson the morning we were ferried across the Tombighee River and headed south to Mobile.

We reached Mobile at 2 o'clock and about three; found ourselves in Grand By, and not until that instant did it occur to us that Henri had neglected to get directions for the Hartman Ranch.  Well, resourceful Jimmie found a way and within an hour, we had arrived, and were greeted by the last group of relatives.  Mother, Dad and Grayce Hartman.  So ended the first 2900 miles of our honeymoon.

The Postmaster.

The "Postmaster" in person
And Mother Gillespie

The next ten day were spent getting acquainted with the

 Gillespie relatives and seeing the sights of the surrounding

 country, that "Pa" might convince us that Glen Spey is

 Sullivan County's "beauty spot". We also had a trip to

 Elizabeth New Jersey to visit Grandma Green, Aunt Nellie,

 Aunt Carrie and Aunt Lil. Here we were shown the beauty

spots of the City.

"Ma" - "Jimmie" _ "Pa"

We had a pleasant stay with the Greens and

Henri was delighted to have a grandmother again.

Returning via New York City, Henri had her first

 glimpse of the metropolis - the harbor with "The

Majestic" lying at anchor - the tall buildings -

Fifth Avenue and all the rest.

On Sunday, Jimmie preached in the Glen 

Spey  church for Mr. De Graw, a Drew Seminary

student who was supplying at the time.

The New Rochelle Rod and Gun Club
Pa - Henri - Trix - Mother

Mother - Jimmie - Trix - Pa.
 

Just Married

Just Married

June 16, 1927

James H. and Henrietta F. Gillespie
Bride and Groom

"Just Married" So read the sign on the 'Chevy Roadster' as it  left Takoma Park, Maryland 8:30 o'clock in the morning of June 16. 1927.

The Bride
Henrietta Florence Hartman

Just one half hour earlier in the beautifully decorated living room of Mrs. Nellie Taylor, Dr. T.C. Clark had read the service uniting in marriage Rev. James Henry Gillespie assistant Pastor of the Takoma Park Presbyterian Church and Henrietta Florence Hartman, a Baptist of the 'hard shelled' variety. Now, the roadster- which will hereafter be referred to as the Honeymoon Express was winding its way north-eastward.

Dr. Thomas C Clark who tied the knot

When well out of Washington, we stopped to discard the extra 'paraphernalia' which 'kind friends' had attached: old shoes, tin cans, banners, etc. then, stepping on the gas we stopped only to partake of the delicious lunch "Aunt Nelle" had tucked in and to replenish the gas tank, during the  next 305 miles which brought us to Glen Spey, New York. Here were guests assembled, for not only were the newlyweds expected, but "Pa" Gillespie was celebrating his 60th birthday anniversary.

From Park Jervis to Glen Spey, we had the thrill of riding over the famous "Hawks Nest" road - a very narrow road stuck away up on the side of the mountain high above the Delaware.
Hawks Nest Road in Autum

June 17, starting out to explore Glen Spey.

Ain't Love Grand
photographed by the 'Glen Spey News' Walter Schwartz