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I let the work life rest.  It was early May with 6 weeks of school left.  I was 15 1/2 yrs old and thoroughly fed up with it.  My grades had dropped back to a D average and I was flat out flunking in English, Spanish and doing "D work" in everything else except my Shop class.  Lazy and friends that were of similar mind and condition, maybe not as awful but still had a big dislike of SUHS.  Hazel was on my ass too and Harold was working so I had no protector.  So one particular late night I summoned up my anger and angst.   Just past midnight I  grabbed Hazel's keys, removed the key for the Buick, packed a few changes of clothes, robbed her purse of $10 and left for San Diego and my mother.  Hazel had been sound asleep in the lounge chair in the TV room, Harold was asleep too so I was free to go, and go I did!  The year was 1960 and gas was about 30 cents a gallon.  The Buick was never empty as it was needed to take Hazel to the hospital when she had a crisis or a cigarette need.  I dared not fuel up in Selma or Kingsburg as everyone about the town recognized the pink and white 1956 2Dr Buick Century of Hazel and Harold Petersen.  So down Highway 99 South I went towards San Diego and relief from Hazel's yelling, my bad grades and the gang of fellas I was hanging with in those days.  I kept my speed to 55 to avoid being harried by the CHP or local police and finally stopped in Bakersfield to fill up.  Bakersfeild was 90 miles or so from Selma and at the foot of the "Grapevine" as it  was called leading to Los Angeles.

Grapevine Hwy 99 

 The Grapevine was a terror for both cars and trucks, the long, steep curvy roadway caused many an accident and deaths over the years.  After filling up I set out climbing the Grapevine behind a long line of semi-trucks as I had little experience on hills as it was and with the sun coming up over the hills I was blinded now and again, behind the trucks was shadow and relative safety at 35 mph!