Glen E. Ryan

These are short stories from my 94 year old father, about his life memories. He was born in a sod house on a farm in western Kansas in 1918. Told by him or written by him and embellished by me. Hope you enjoy them!

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

The Hitchhiker

It was just a regular run to town. Dad was 16 and Uncle Gene, his younger brother was 6. Dad was taking the kids to town and when they got to highway 4 they saw a hitchhiker trying to get a ride going the opposite direction. They got all their business done in town and on the way home they saw that hitchhiker again. Uncle Gene wanted Dad to stop and pick up the hitchhiker because a storm was coming. But Dad insisted they shouldn’t because it might be dangerous, so they drove on by him. A little while later they had a knock at the door. It was two policemen and that hitchhiker in handcuffs. They asked if they could stay in their home for the night because they couldn’t get through the storm to get the prisoner to Garden City. Granddad agreed they could stay. The policemen sat up in the living room all night long watching the prisoner. It was scary, Uncle Gene remembers, because the hitchhiker had shot and killed two people in Shallow Water earlier that day. Uncle Gene was grateful for his older brother Glen for not picking up the hitchhiker earlier that day. He could have killed them too and stolen their car.

1 comment:

  1. That's so scary! I'm so glad Granddad had good judgement and didn't pick that guy up!

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