This letter is for the lonely hitchhiker with your thumb in the air along the equally lonely stretch of rural McKenzie Highway late Christmas night. The two folks who whizzed past you in the blue hatchback were startled at someone coming out of the mist like that, and a little self-protective, too. However, we saw you, we knew and we turned around less than a quarter mile ahead to come back and see if we could help you.

But you were gone.

We turned around and drove past the place where you’d been three times, but you were gone.

So, if you were a stranger in need, you were not left out there alone, though we did not reach you in time. If you were a ghost or spirit traveling the roads, you were not unseen.

Either way, travel in peace.

B.E. Scully

Leaburg

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