Hamburger For Christmas

Christmas of 1972 is one Christmas I will never forget. I was 18. I had promised my parents that I would be home for Christmas. On December 23rd I was in Arizona hitchhiking my way to a small town north of Reno Nevada. I was without money and worried that I would make it home in time.

I got a ride from an older man who was driving to LA for Christmas. I could tell he had never picked up a hitchhiker because he asked to see my drivers license before he would let me in his car.

A couple hours later, he dropped me off at the freeway on ramp just outside Kingsman AZ. He was going to a near by restaurant to get a meal. About a few minutes later, he came back. Told me get in the car. Then he drove back to that restaurant, where he brought me a hamburger.

The next day was Sunday, and I was in Las Vegas. A man in his 30's gave me a ride. He dropped me off at a local church. After Sunday morning service, he took me to McDonald's. There he bought me a half dozen hamburgers, before dropping me off north of city.

I got home a 6pm on Christmas day. But I will never forget those Christmas hamburgers.