Around the middle of May in 1968 I pointed my 1964 Ford towards Georgia. As far as I was concerned it was about as far away as Crisp Lake and Van Horn as I had ever been. Not really I guess because I had been to Florida several times with my grandparents, but this was the furthest I had ever journeyed by myself.
My destination was Fort Benning. I was being given the privilege to participate in a basic training sessions for two year ROTC candidates. It was a privilege because if I had not wormed my way into the program I would have been doing basic in Fort Lenard Wood and my classroom the following fall would not have been CMSC (what it was called back then.)
I was not familiar with the interstate highway system back then, I don't really even know if they had one as such, so I cut across Missouri towards Memphis. Once at Memphis I kept driving until I reached Tupalo, Mississippi, spent a short night and hit the road early.
Not much of the nitty gritty of the trip do I remember but I do recall entering Alabama and the first thing I saw was a great big sign saying Welcome to Alabama. The next sign said George Wallace's White Way. I noticed the highway was new and was pretty white. I thought to myself that who ever this George Wallace is he has a nice road named after him.
I spent the second night about 30 miles from the Georgia state line. I called a friend of mine I had not seen since high school, Mike Putman. I knew he was going to medical school in Georgia and his family had moved there also. He was thrilled to hear from me and was ready to drive to where I was, which was pretty far, but his mother decided that wasn't a good idea. I told him that when I got settled in at Fort Benning I would give him a call.
The next morning I sat out towards Columbus, GA located next to Fort Benning where I would spend the next six weeks or so. I had no idea what to expect but knew there was no going back, at least that day.
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