- GM PD-4501

Dreamers

1955 in America

3y ago
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Sunrise in June

Sunrise in June

It was 1955. The window was cracked just enough to hear old man Bauer's Allis Chalmers putter over the dawn hill. A cool breeze rolled over the sill, wrapping with the bent light of morning. It was Saturday. The air smelled of manure and pollen. Eisenhower was president. Vast, concrete highways were built, shrinking massive American horizons. Marian Anderson had sung, Charlie Parker was flying in Birdland, and Disneyland filled the land with fantasy.

Nerstrand, Minnesota

Nerstrand, Minnesota

America was changing. If you were young and idealistic, the rigid structure of future was being ground to fine sand and blown with the wind. Artists and musicians were putting down their rakes and shovels, tossing away their old woolen shirts, and heading away.

There was a movement rolling across the plains through white paged books. It was fueled by sympathy, and to be sympathetic was to be beat. Dreams of flight and adventure were filling youth with a sense of limitless bounds. Chevrolets had throaty 283s, jets were supersonic, and fuel was 23 cents a gallon. There was a pulse of 'being', of following your dreams, of life...

So when you woke up on that chosen morning , your suitcase packed, and travelled from your familiar home in a pick-up truck driven by your Father or Aunt Nellie, it was frequently a greyhound coach that would set the dreams into motion. If you were lucky you would see a Scenicruiser swirling the gravel dust in your direction

1955 Greyhound

1955 Greyhound

The design wasn't new, dating back to the late forties. GM designed it and supplied the engines as well. It was powered by two 4.7 litre GM 4-71 two cycle diesels, each putting out 160 horsepower with 533 pound-feet at 1400 rpm. The electronic clutch, although advanced for the day, led to horrible shifting dynamics, thrusting passengers forward and aft, as if under the influence of Alabama bathtub gin. The mid-coach restrooms, after the hills of Pennsylvania, were dirty and fragrant, and the whole thing seems to rattle down the road.

The first seats of the second level were the ones to get, as you had a grand view over the cab.

Best seat in the house

Best seat in the house

Eventually the potholes of Iowa disappeared, as you became one with the rhythm of the road and America stretched out before you. By the time you were in Indiana the summer corn was glowing pink, as the sun set softly over fields.

1955 Manhattan

1955 Manhattan

After 31 hours and ten fuel breaks, New York City rose in the Eastern sky, green fields had transformed to tarmac, hydrocarbon breeze, and excitement. The city's clank awakening a part suppressed. Walking down 52nd street, you heard jazz out of padded doors, and realized, Charlie was gone, but Miles was blowing.

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Comments (4)

  • I've ridden my share of Greyhounds. Most memorable was one time I was riding at night, drowsy with the long slow song and motion of the bus. Suddenly, in the inky blackness below the seat ahead of me, bare inches from my toes, was a pair of shimmering eyes.

    Swallowing a shriek, I pulled my knees up to my ears, and then realized it was a dog. The seeing-eye dog of the gentleman seated ahead of me. I smiled, and the dog and I both went back to sleep.

      3 years ago
  • Top post Mark. I worked for a subsidiary of Greyhound in the 80s. Never rode on their bus though.

      3 years ago
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