On the bright side, while I was in hospital I tested for and received my GED certificate that got me into the University of Florida three years later.
A good friend, Bill Rush, from Bucyrus, Ohio and I hitch-hiked to his home a few times. Imagine, we would start on a Friday afternoon and hitch rides across Illinois, Indiana and Ohio, and back by Monday morning. We preferred that to hanging around the barracks.
One very scary accident almost cost me my life. For Christmas we got a 4-day pass to go where we wanted. I was still a homesick kid, so I hitched rides home to Jacksonville. Got lucky and rode with some guys going to Miami who dropped me off within a block of my girlfriend’s house, about 6am. I stayed in Jax for 8-hours and started hitching back to Illinois. I got to Belleville about 3am and two GIs in a 1940 2-door (lucky for me) Ford stopped to ask me how to get to Scott. I got in the back. They switched drivers and we went tearing off for Scott, about 7-miles away. Sitting in the back looking over the driver's shoulder I started to ask him to stop and let me out. Ninety on a two lane country road was not my speed. Before I could tell him, we drifted onto the shoulder; he jerked the wheel back and we went off the other side. When he jerked it back again we began rolling down the highway, how many times I don't know. I wound up with my knee sticking through the rear window. Both guys were gone, thrown out along the roll. I was pissed, not caring if they both were dead. I had hitch-hiked about 1,500 miles with no problem and then I'm almost killed 3-miles from my starting point. I pulled my bag out of the wreck and started walking toward the base. One guy was wandering around calling for his buddy who finally answered from a ditch nearby. He was screaming his fingers were gone. I couldn't deal with it and kept walking. A mile or so later a bus picked me up. Next day I was so sore and bruised I couldn't go to class but I didn't want the hassle of a lot of questions at the base hospital.
