DIY History | Transcribe | Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries | Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

Page 163

meant every word! I had reason to be apprehensive of that trip. It proved to be worse than my imagination had ever envisioned it.
The journey to Omaha was irritatingly leisurely; fatiguing. I had a double seat and a pillow, however, and lay down as I always do, curled up tightly in a ball, to save stress and strain and travel wear. Moreover everyone was considerate and helpful in packing me from train to train, and in lifting and carrying my parcels and overnight case.
In Omaha the red cop checked my things to get a pullman reservation and stretched out on one of the fat davenports in the Burlington station. This required the minimum of effort for I was exhausted. It occurred to me that I really should go to one of the hotels, and get a room while waiting. However, I was too tired to think of making the effort, to say nothing about the arrangements of transfer. I did nothing. To make bad matters worse, the Chicago train was an hour late, so that it was almost three when I finally got on the pullman, all done in. However, I stayed in my birth until around ten when the train finally made Denver, which helped substantially.
The trip troubles, however, were not yet over. Van was at the train in Denver to meet my incoming train, but he was anxious. "Kippy toe," our venerable Dodge. As an anticlimax, capricious nature had had to go and dump and heavy, wet snow all over Colorado the night before. The highways were clocked and we were snowed in at home. The few times we really need a car, it is not available. In the meantime however, Van had succeeded in holding the Boulder bound "gasoline" car until my train got in. And it was stationed practically upon the same track within but a few yards from the Chicago train. we didn't even have to clunk down a lot of steps and then back up to another track.
This gasoline car - I was told- is just a convenience

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meant every word! I had reason to be apprehensive of that trip. It proved to be worse than my imagination had ever envisioned it. The journey to Omaha was irritatingly leisurely; fatiguing. I had a double seat and a pillow, however, and lay down as I always do, curled up tightly in a ball, to save stress and strain and travel wear. Moreover everyone was considerate and helpful in packing me from train to train, and in lifting and carrying my parcels and overnight case. In Omaha the red cop checked my things to get a pullman reservation and stretched out on one of the fat davenports in the Burlington station. This required the minimum of effort for I was exhausted. It occurred to me that I really should go to one of the hotels, and get a room while waiting. However, I was too tired to think of making the effort, to say nothing about the arrangements of transfer. I did nothing. To make bad matters worse, the Chicago train was an hour late, so that it was almost three when I finally got on the pullman, all done in. However, I stayed in my birth until around ten when the train finally made Denver, which helped substantially. The trip troubles, however, were not yet over. Van was at the train in Denver to meet my incoming train, but he was anxious. "Kippy toe," our venerable Dodge. As an anticlimax, capricious nature had had to go and dump and heavy, wet snow all over Colorado the night before. The highways were clocked and we were snowed in at home. The few times we really need a car, it is not available. In the meantime however, Van had succeeded in holding the Boulder bound "gasoline" car until my train got in. And it was stationed practically upon the same track within but a few yards from the Chicago train. we didn't even have to clunk down a lot of steps and then back up to another track. This gasoline car - I was told- is just a convenience