Your Future Granddaughter
p.s. You might honor the Runabout by decorating it with American flags.
I’m excited about tomorrow. I bet the Oldsmobile people will meet us and we’ll have a big parade into town.
Thursday September 17
Whit’s diary
Left Peekskill at 10 a.m.
Received telegram that company would meet us at Yonkers.
Before we reached Yonkers, it rained. No one met us there so telephoned on to city that we would leave in 30 minutes.
Ran into city.
The parade was a fizzle—nothing doing at Oldsmobile Company. Press men thick and some photographers.
Taken to supper and then the newspaper men sat around and took notes.
We then had supper and were taken to the Normandie Hotel by Oldsmobile Company.
Our negatives and photo prints were ready for us early this morning. We delayed our start until Whit could mail the prints to the magazines. We left Peekskill for Yonkers after receiving a telegram that the Oldsmobile people would meet us with a lineup of decorated machines to lead us from Yonkers into Manhattan.
It threatened to rain, and before long, it was coming down in torrents, cancelling their plans. We telephoned the Olds Agency in New York City and told them we were leaving Yonkers. We were on our own to find the American Storage Company garage at Broadway and Sixtieth Street.
What a disappointment! We had entered New York City without fanfare. After all we went through, the least the city could have done is given us a ticker tape parade like they did for the Statue of Liberty!
When we arrived at the garage, Olds Agency officials and men from the press with their photographers were waiting for us. They took us to a nearby restaurant and interviewed us there for nearly an hour. We had our supper, and then we went to the Normandie Hotel, courtesy of the Olds Motor Works.
Outside the hotel there was an old man whittling a small Statue of Liberty. We got to talking, “You came all the way from California in a motor car? Without the use of a railway flat car? No team of horses to pull you up the mountains?”
“Yes,” I said, “under our own power and a lot of sweat.”
“Well, Sonny, you have plenty of heart! I’d like to give you this carved heart so you’ll know you are appreciated. I’m proud to know you.”
When I got back to the room, I placed the heart inside the watchcase for my granddaughter. It just fit. I feel close to my granddaughter and want her to know I care about her.
Whit and I could now honestly say we had succeeded in driving the first Runabout from Pacific to Atlantic, coast to coast! Our total cyclometer distance was 4,225 miles over trails and roads that zigzagged north and south, almost as much as west to east! Tomorrow we would deliver the water-marked and grease-stained letter from San Francisco’s mayor to his New York City counterpart.
Friday September 18
Whit’s diary
Delivered a message to the mayor at 11 a.m.
The police beat back the crowd and we passed inside to the reception hall. The mayor entered. We delivered the letter.
A speech on my part saying this letter sent Mayor Low by Mayor Schmitz by novel manner—automobile, etc.
He opened and read the letter. He asked us some questions about our journey—time 45 1/2 days, etc. Asked if he could assist us in any way, etc.
Thanked him for his attention and left.
Big time and all in fun. Crowd numbered around a thousand.
In afternoon tinkered with machine for start to Boston. New rings and ground valves.
As soon as the post office opened this morning, we had the postmaster hand date-stamp the long-delayed letter to the mayor. That would make it official. Whit and I had delivered the first letter carried coast to coast by motor car!
Mr. G. R. Howell, from the Olds Company’s Thirty-Eighth Street garage, escorted us to City Hall Park. At City Hall, a policeman allowed us to drive onto the stone steps at the entrance. The risers were low and wide, so we drove the little Olds right up to the first wide landing.
The mayor’s private secretary, J. B. Reynolds, came out to tell us that the mayor was ready to receive us. Two policemen led us through the crowd and into the reception room, and introduced us to the mayor. Whit handed him the letter from Mayor Schmitz bearing the seal of San Francisco. Mayor Low opened the letter and read it to the assembled audience:
San Francisco July 6, 1903 Mayor’s Office
My Dear Mayor,
Mr. L. L. Whitman is starting from here at eleven o’clock this morning to make a tour across the continent from San Francisco to New York in an Oldsmobile. San Francisco sends her greetings to the great metropolis of New York.
Any courtesy that may be extended to Mr. L. L. Whitman by you will be greatly appreciated by yours truly,
E. E. Schmitz, Mayor
“This is the first letter I ever received by automobile,” the mayor remarked after reading the letter. The mayor, himself an automobilist, asked about the route and the repairs we had to make along the way.
“Of course we had to make repairs,” Whit replied. “All tourists have to do that, but they were only those that we ourselves or any machine shop could make.” The interview closed with hearty congratulations and a parting handshake.
We could not get back to the Olds without the police clearing the way for us. It was pandemonium! Press cameramen jumped about, taking pictures. Reporters asked many questions and posed us in front of the machine. They filled my pockets with cigars, and I, in turn, gave the reporters a run for their money. “No sir,” I stated, “had no trouble at all. We had a great time watching the scenery. If you want to take a pleasure trip, just take an auto trip across the United States!”
We were ready to drive back to the Olds garage but were hemmed in by the crowd. I shouted, “Get out the shovel. We’re stuck again!” Finally, police opened the way for us. We waved and smiled at the excited crowd as we drove off.
After dinner, we spent the rest of the afternoon tinkering with the machine. We installed new piston rings and ground the valves for our trip to Boston. My family was meeting me there, and, in a few more days, Whit would see his family in Portland, Maine.
We were guests at a banquet given jointly by the auto club and the Oldsmobile people. Cigar smoke was heavy, champagne flowed, and people gave short congratulatory speeches. How did they gather so many people for the affair on such short notice? They didn’t know when we would actually arrive. WE didn’t even know! We never had a schedule.
Connecticut—The Journey Home
Saturday September 19
Whit’s diary
Left West 60th Street in New York at 9:30 a.m.
Ran via Old Post Road to Bridgeport, New Haven and Hartford.
At 10 p.m. pin holding cap on inlet valve came out.
Went to bed at 1:30 a.m. in Hartford—125 miles.
We had vowed in Omaha that if we were lucky enough to make it to New York, we would continue on to Boston and Portland, Maine. We had read in the Omaha newspaper that Tom Fetch arrived in New York on August 21st, beating Dr. Jackson’s time by a day. By traveling on to Maine, we would establish a transcontinental distance record.
Though our elapsed time from San Francisco to New York had been seventy-four days, our actual running time had been a little more than fifty-four days, after taking into account nineteen days we lost due to bad weather and mechanical breakdowns.
Whit and I shook hands with our Olds Agency hosts and left for New England. We lost a half hour on the way when the pin holding the cap on the inlet valve came out. We had to put in another from our spare parts box. It was after midnight when we finally went to bed at our hotel in Hartford, Connecticut.
Massachusetts—Front Wheels in the Atlantic
Sunday September 20
Whit’s diary
Left Hartford at 6:30 a.m.
Ran to Springfield for breakfast.
Arrived at Worcester at 4 p.m.
Left at 5 p.m. and ran to Waltham arriving at 9 p.m.—125 miles.
With less than five hours of sleep, we were back on the road this morning. It was an easy run to Springfield, Massachusetts, where we had breakfast. By late afternoon, we were in Worcester. Then we rolled on through South Framingham over good roads to Waltham for the night. We had made good time today with no problems. It was great to be back home in Massachusetts again! I hope to see some of my family tomorrow.
Monday September 21
Whit’s diary
Left Waltham at 8 a.m.
Telephoned Shattuck and Sons. They said they were not prepared to meet us so came in alone to their place on Columbus Avenue.
Big rush—newspaper men, pictures taken by the dozen. Spent afternoon talking to reporters.
Changed cam (put on new).
I took a room at the Quincy House.
This morning from our hotel in Waltham, Whit telephoned Shattuck and Sons branch of Olds Motor Works at 239 Columbus Avenue in Boston. They were completely surprised and delighted to learn that we planned to stop off in Boston, since we had given them no advance notice. Had we done so, they said they would have organized an escort of Curved Dash Oldsmobiles to show us the way to their establishment. However, they gave us good directions, and we were prepared to come into Boston on our own.
We left Waltham, and by early morning were in Boston and had located the Shattuck Olds branch. Before we could turn off our engine, we were surrounded by a curious crowd as well as newspaper reporters and photographers.
I had telegraphed my family in Mattapoisett last night. My father, two brothers, and one of my sisters came by early train to see me in Boston.
I heard my twin brother, Joe, matter-of-factly tell a reporter, “Yes, my brother drove out from California for a short visit.”
We spent the afternoon talking to the reporters. In the evening I went home overnight with my family. This way I could visit with Mother.
Although our cyclometer readings totaled some 4,350 miles at Boston, our auto magazine editors estimated we had traveled more than 4,500 miles on our coast-to-coast journey!
Tuesday September 22
Whit’s diary
Boston Herald and Boston Journal had pictures and a big piece in the papers.
Also there was a smaller notice in the other papers.
We went out to City Point with machine. Put the front wheels in the Atlantic
Ocean and took some pictures.
Left Boston at 11 a.m. and ran to Salem, Lynn, Ipswitch {sic. (Ipswich)}, Newburyport and Portsmouth.
Spent the night at Kennebunk. Reached there at 9:15 p.m.
The Boston Herald and the Boston Journal carried long articles with pictures telling of our transcontinental adventures over the past seventy-five days. We were handed a copy of the New York Times Sunday, September 20th edition, which read:
Transcontinental automobile trips are now becoming quite common, but L. L. Whitman and E. I. Hammond, who left San Francisco on July 6th and arrived in this city last Thursday afternoon, are the first transcontinentalists to make the trip in a light Runabout, weighing only 800 pounds. All previous attempts have been made in heavy touring cars of twice that weight. The light weight of the Runabout seems to have been no disadvantage, however, as the net running time of the trip was only 51 days, which is 7 days less running time than that of Fetch and Krarup, though the gross time of 73 days is 11 days more than the record of 62 days held by Fetch and Krarup.
From San Francisco to Omaha required 39 days actual running time; from Omaha to Chicago 4 days, from Chicago to Detroit 2 days, and from Detroit to this city 6 days. The longest day’s run was 170 miles from Des Moines to Cedar Rapids, Iowa.
The rig was running well, thanks to the fellows at the Shattuck shop who had put on a new cam for us. We left to drive out to City Point Beach on Massachusetts Bay. Here we ran the front wheels of the Olds into the Atlantic Ocean while a photographer recorded the event. The newsmen stated we were the first to drive from San Francisco to Boston!
I had put four small American flags on the CDO: two up front on the lamps, and two on the rear of the luggage box. I honored Olds’ Scout and my granddaughter for helping make this trip possible. I hope she sees the decorated CDO in the photo. I picked up a small shell from the beach and put it into her watchcase which was getting full now.
After the photo was taken, I took a deep breath and touched Whit’s arm. “I’ve got something to share with you,” I said as matter-of-factly as I could. “I received a letter from the future that had information in it to help us along the way, like, ‘When in doubt, don’t cross the river. Use the railroad bridge.’ I tried to use the notes whenever I could.”
Whit laughed. “Good thing we are so close to the end of the line. The trip has gotten to you. It’s time to go home.”
We took our leave of Boston, traveling along the shoreline road through Salem and Ipswich. As we peered at the ocean, Whit asked, “Are you hungry for lobsters like I am?” We dined on the delectable crustaceans at a roadside eatery that specialized in seafood. Continuing on through Newburyport and Portsmouth, we reached Kennebunk, where we spent the night.
Maine—Journey’s End
Wednesday September 23
Whit’s diary
Left Kennebunk at 8 a.m.
Reached Portland at 10 a.m. There were no agents at Portland so stopped at F.O.
Bailey and Company’s automobile station.
Portland papers gave us a good send-off. Press especially.
Lizzie met me at P.O. Square. I took her out to Union Station to 1:15 p.m. train.
Mother out to Woodsfords and Mrs. Harrison took her in automobile out to meet us, but they missed us as they went out of the city as we came in on another street.
The longest automobile trip in America finished.
Telegraphed Oldsmobile for orders about machine. Received a telegram to ship it to New York.
We left Kennebunk, Maine, this morning. It was hard for us to realize that the longest continuous automobile trip ever made in America would soon be finished.
On our way from Boston, the fall weather was ideal. Apple trees by the wayside were laden with red apples, while leaves of the maple trees showed their autumn colors. Days like these make motoring a pleasure. New England could never have looked better or have given us a better reception.
On our way to Portland, we stopped for a drink of water. There was a young man playing with a bag of marbles. “Hey, Mister, do you play marbles? Will you play with me?”
I told him I didn’t have any of my own to play with.
“That’s OK, you can borrow some of mine.”
I dumped out a handful and one of the marbles wouldn’t roll. It looked like a carved leaf.
“Say, could I keep this funny carved piece?”
“Yeah, sure.”
We played marbles for a while, then Whit called, “Time to go.”
“Sorry, we didn’t have more time to play,” I shouted over my shoulder as we drove off in the rig.
The kidlet’s leaf made me think of autumn in New England. I turned it over and saw the number 103 on it. Must be some sort of item number or maybe part of the design. There was just enough room for the leaf in the watchcase.
We were on the outskirts of Portland, Maine, our final destination and Whit’s hometown. We experienced no breakdowns or weather delays from New York. The machine ran better the last day than the day it left San Francisco.
I felt sad the trip was almost over.
A friend of the family drove Whit’s mother to meet us. We all joined up at Post Office Square, where Whit’s sister, Lizzie, was waiting for us.
The Portland newspaper chose the Civil War monument at the Square as the setting to take several pictures and hail the finish. The news story did us proud!
Lizzie got a ride in the Olds. When the time came, Whit drove her to the Union Railroad Station to catch her train home.
I t
ook the time to put together a letter, a newspaper article, and the watchcase in a big envelope. I mailed it to Mr. Olds and asked that it be delivered to Gene Hammond’s granddaughter. I hoped for the best. I had no address for them to send it to, nor did I have a name. If she could get a letter to me in her past, then I could get one to her in my future.
This evening, Whit invited me to come along with him and his old-time friends to a clambake, where we could enjoy refreshments, relax, and talk about ‘the good old days’ when we crossed the country.
In Remembrance of You Page 12