August 25, 1932

The Man Named Rittenhouse

This letter is from William Haseltine, a professional tennis player who shared his journey across the United States to play in a tennis tournament in 1932.

On Friday morning, July 1st, I left Pittsburgh with about $6 in my pocket and after taking the Elmsworth car, I started my hopping. By 10 o’clock at night I was at Ft. Wayne, Ind., a distance of 306 miles from Pgh., arriving in the town of Columbus, Ind., a distance of 25 or 30 miles from Ft. Wayne. I was approached by a fellow who asked me if I wanted a bed for the night. I took my chances on it and it turned out to be the jail. They put me in a room next to the jail and gave me a bed that consisted of two long poles with canvas stretched between them and which had stands to keep the bed about four inches from the floor. There was an inmate in the adjoining room which was the jail and as I felt like making more mileage, I decided to make the mileage. I have been in jail for about fifteen minutes in my life and that is too much. During that night I made it to Plymouth, Ind., and changed from my blue serge trousers and polo shirt to white linen trousers, a clean polo shirt and brown shoes—not neglecting to shave.

The first fellow I signaled took me to Valparaiso, 45 miles, and the next man I waved to took me to Cedar Rapids, Iowa, a distance of three hundred and some miles. This man went by the name of Rittenhouse and was a gentleman. By the night of July 2nd I was in Des Moines, Iowa and it was raining a little but I still wanted to make time so I got a hop, which took me away out in the country and from shelter except for a roadhouse where I stayed as the rain poured down. There was too much drinking for me and as I didn’t like to stay there I started out for the next small town which was Vidor, Iowa, about 6 miles away.

It rained in almost sheets of water all the way and luckily I had a raincoat and my blue serge pants. I passed about eight barns which were all darkened and the people had gone to bed. It was then thundering and lightning and flashing in the sky and I had no parks or sheds to sneak in every once in a while until finally I reached a hotel in Cedar where I was charged the huge sum of $1.00 for the night. I was pretty tired and felt like turning back and if I had known the country that lay ahead of me I would have turned back. I might sleep and the sun shining in the morning changed the aspect of things. I had reached the hotel by 2 o’clock and slept till 10:30. It did not take me long to reach Omaha, Nebraska, 135 miles away, but from there to the western end of Nebraska, it took me plenty of time. On the 3rd of July, I put up at a hotel for 75¢, and on the 4th, I made rather good time. The roads are mostly gravel and hard to thumb on and the people do not thumb passengers. When I arrived at Grand Island, Nebraska, they were celebrating their 75th anniversary and the people were dressed as they did in the old days. You should have seen the different sorts of beards and sideburns—they were genuine whiskers. They had a parade which was 5 miles in length and beautiful.

Leaving Grand Island I had a tough time. The burning sun made it tougher, but I made it to North Platte before the sun went down. I had a ride with a mexican who had been drinking since Saturday, this day being the 4th of the month, Monday. He acted as tho he had no responsibility in the world and would turn his mind and hands entirely off his driving every once in a while.

By night I made it to Ogallala, Neb. where I got a nice clean bed for 50¢. Leaving early next morning I had the luck to get in with some fellows who hailed from Topeka, Kansas who had a model T’s Ford and took me for about 150 miles to Greeley, Colorado. By night I was in Denver, 50 miles away. July 5th, and here I bought a loaf of bread and some fruit which I ate as I walked to the outskirts of Denver. I decided to walk out of the city as I didn’t have enough money to get a room. I had about 50¢ to get me to Delta, 400 miles away.

At 2 o’clock in the morning I had luck enough to get a ride with a man who was going to Pueblo, 130 miles away. At Colo. Springs he decided he needed some sleep and while he slept in his car I slept in a blanket of his by the roadside. We arrived there a little after 3 o’clock and left by 6:30 next morning and I got around 3 hours of sleep and felt rested. By 10 o’clock we reached Pueblo and I started over route (150). The heat was terrible and everything looked dried up almost desert-like. My luck was not so good and I only made it to Salida in the heart of the Rocky Mts. Over this trail the roads are full of gravel and walking is difficult. The sun is hot as blazes and the road is cut into the mt. side with rocks towering overhead and a hole on the other side into the unknown.

I must have walked about twenty miles over the 100 miles I traveled between Pueblo and Salida. On my whole trip I saw no more than two snakes and I did not stop to investigate—they were killed on the road and one of them was revealed to me, as I walked at night in the dark, by the headlights of a car.

Salida is a pretty little town in the heart of the Rocky Mts. They have a pretty park and a pool in which rainbow trout swim about. It’s a lively little place as the people seem to stay awake all night and it doesn’t quiet down like so many places.

It was almost dusk and I had expected to make it to Delta by that time but was sadly disappointed. I got a lift out of there that night, but it took me 45 miles out of my way to a small town on the other side of the Monarch Pass. Here I was stranded with but 10¢ and I had to get back to Salida to begin the trail to Delta. I spent the 10¢ for a quart of milk and they gave me a few crackers with it. They wanted to give me some sandwiches but I know they did it out of pity and so I refused.

By luck I got a hop on a fellow’s fender back to the town of Salida, but was chilled by the ride over the mts. I had two sweaters and my trench coat on and was very cold. I couldn’t sleep that night and stayed on my feet all night leaving town just before the sun came up. I walked about 5 miles where a fishing party took me part way up Monarch Pass from which point I walked to the top, 11,008 or more feet. There was snow on top of the mt. and I couldn’t get a hop at the top. I walked down for six miles and things looked bad as the next town was 40 miles away and I had a good ways to go to reach the foot of the mts. My luck held good and I managed to get a ride with a fellow who was going to Delta and beyond. He was filled to capacity and the only place I could ride was on the front fender and besides that I had to carry my grip in one hand and hold on with the other as we wound in and out in the mts. These people offered me food but as they were a little hesitant about it I told them I had eaten earlier and so they ate while I waited for them. We then started out and on the way the lady gave me an orange which I devoured, all except the seeds.

By the time I reached Delta I was covered with dust, burnt by the radiator and sun and wind-blown, but feeling better that I had accomplished that which I had set out to do. I went to the Post Office to find out whether my Uncle Bill was in town and was bitterly disappointed to find that he wasn’t. They told me where I can find some friends of his but to make me feel worse found that they had gone up to his ranch with him. There was an old shack down by the railroad near the friends of my uncle and there I met a fellow about 26 years of age, and a friend of my uncle. He let me bunk with him for the night and gave me something to eat by 8:30 that evening. The next morning, Pat Murphy told me he was going to meet me and take me to breakfast, but he never did and by 12 o’clock I was plenty hungry to be relieved of that condition by the Postmaster a friend of my uncle. He offered me money so I borrowed 10¢ and bought a loaf of. bread and a milky-way. That was one of the best meals I have tasted and by night I borrowed 15¢ more and got another loaf of bread, 4 hotdogs and a pack of chewing gum. Mr Smith came over and asked me to come to his place for the night. I had a nice bath and good sleep plus breakfast. Looking up a friend of Uncle Bill’s, I at least got a ride to his place. The country out that way is dry and there are small trees with little bits of sagebrush growing here and there. Irrigation saves the place from drying up and blowing away. The Sun is awfully hot in the daytime and at night it is so cold that two blankets must be used. The shack my uncle lives in has two rooms. The rooms are not finished but are rather nude, two beds are in one room, no rugs on the floor, there are two windows without any screens and the mosquitos are pretty bad. I fact, altitude doesn’t seem to exclude them as I found them on Monarch Pass.

The room is all clustered up with a deer antler here, magazines there and other things scattered around but the real delight is a seven-tube battery radio, which is real entertainment up there. In the other room there is a closet for dishes and a stove for cooking and baking and a table also in the room besides a wood box to refuel the fire.

The final stretch was tough, but I made it. I got to the place and found my relatives fine. We had a dinner of beans and roast and corn on the cob and then built a number of small log houses.

I’m glad to be home and tho I lost my tournament this year, I expect to reverse things next year. Hope you are well and happy and will be glad to see you when I come on next year.

Your nephew,

Bill