When I was in college, my best friend and roommate decided one day to change to a different school; one located on the other side of the Dismal swamp. One day I was missing my friend as he never kept in contact with me so I decided to go visit. having no mode of transportation other than what God had given me, I set out on my journey figuring it would take several hours at the longest. Rides were far fewer and for shorter distances than going from Murfreesboro to Hickory. I left a nine in the morning and it was well after one before I finally arrived. I was hungry but pretty much broke and the diner I stopped in wanted to charge me for a glass of water. I went thirsty.
Sad thing was, my friend had joined the navy. I never heard from him again.
I'll never forget that hard trip, the frustration, the cop who hassled me, telling me I could hitchhike or walk but not do both. He kept coming back to see what I was up to. The best part of the trip was going through a small town with a hand painted sign indicating the number of residents. I remember receiving one ride and the man had his radio on and the news told of a man killed in a car wreck. He was from that little town. On my return trip, they had changed the sign.
I miss my friend and think of him whenever I hear about the Dismal Swamp. I wonder if he ever went to one of our high school reunions. I wonder if her ever thinks about me.
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