The following are incomplete notes, jottings evidently from recollections he intended to write or record more fully. Some may be on tape, as such is noted a couple of times.
Time for wedding preparations and Oscar pressed into service. Broke ring day before date. To L.A. to have ring repaired. Left turn when cop said right. Properly rebuked. Wedding day hotter than hubs of Hades. No family flowers so had to go to wholesale mkt. in L.A. to try for some. Managed a few scrawny ones & some greenery as all natural foliage burned by heat wave. At about 5:30 there was a commotion in the folks back yard and I blasted out to see. Dog raising heck and at top speed I hit a 2 ft. chicken wire which dad had stretched across the path I usually took to the back of lot. I took it this time all right but not in the usual way. I picked myself up about 5 minutes later a little the worse for wear and limped back to house to shave and get cleaned up and rest for the coming ordeal. All went well except I forgot to get any cigars which were a must at a wedding in that era. By squeezing minutes managed to get a box and back in time to say "I do." Next night Grace & Herb were spliced and the four of us off. they in Saxon Six and we in "Oscar", the Model T, on our first adventure as newlyweds, and I mean adventure.
In planning our honeymoon, which was to Gen. Grant Park, beside tent & food I included a fishing rod & rifle. When Dad saw that he said "What in hell's the matter with him?" and later I realized why. Back to the road. Left Pasadena at about 11:30 P.M. heading for Ridge Route. Saxon went very well but old Model T made heavy going of it. There were only about 976 curves on old Ridge Route but it seemed like 1976. About 1/3 of way over a National roadster passed us like we were going backward and ten minutes later we saw tracks of a car going over the edge. Stopped and tried to see if recent but no answer or noise and decided all o.k. Wasn't though, as a week later on our way home wrecker was pulling what was left of National roadster up hill by cable. No more events til morning. Had to wait till six A.M. to get some gas at foot of Grapevine, ate a bite of breakfast we took along. Getting sleepy. Last hill coming down to Grapevine Station was well named. Grapevine. Filled up with gas and on our way. From Grapevine Station the road was being resurfaced with about 6" of new concrete and widened from 16 to 18 feet. At outside edge where form was, it was 8 to 10" thick and several large chunks of concrete scattered along close to edge. Road straight as a string for 18 or 20 miles and then one slight kink. As we started from the grapevine the sun came up and it warmed up and the long straight road and nice warm air did their work. Yes, I dozed off and sure enough the old car eased over to the edge, the right edge, and dropped off. At this precise moment I woke up and gave the wheel a mighty whirl. Just at this instant we struck one of those concrete chunks and a miracle happened. The car came up onto the pavement again but with such force I could not control it. A tire blew and we started for the west end of the valley, right across the road, off on the other side and over a young tree planted as a windbreak, ending up about 60 feet off the pavement. During this wild ride Alice woke up when the desert started raining down on us and we both thought that that was the end of the Honeymoon trail. Grace and Herb were following us, on the road, I mean, and when wed went west, they thought we really had gone west. They stopped and came running but by that time Alice and I were fully awake and examining the wreckage, which was not as extensive as one would imagine. Remember, the car we were riding in was a Ford, a model T and they were made of stern stuff. Took stock of the situation and the second miracle happened. I had no tow rope and Herb did have a piece of 3/4" which when attached to the front axle of the Saxon, maneuvered so that its two rear wheels were on the pavement, just left enough to fasten to the rear axle of the model T. By three of us pushing on the Liz and Herb very carefully easing the Saxon back, we finally got the Ford back on the pavement. Then the full assessment of the catastrophe was visible. The two front wheels flat against the radiator. The wishbone buckled almost into a knot. One tire blown to bits and no telling what internal injuries suffered. Anyone driving that road today will not believe that for the 4 hours we were working on the Ford not a single car passed us either way. Since back in 1922 men had to be men, even if they were newlyweds, the phone service being what it was, a small matter of 40 or 50 miles between phones, and the Auto Club not having a very extensive emergency road service, we got out the tools, looked around for any stray material which would help, and went to work. First, by some more miraculous luck, the road construction crew had left an 8' 2 x 4 a few feet off the road, and this coupled with concrete chunks and bits of this and that enabled us to block the front end of the wrecked car high enough to drop the twisted wishbone and unbolt it from the front axle. Also loosening the steering tie bar. [This ends the account. To reassure anyone reading this who never heard the story, Alice and Harvey did make it to Grant Park and back without further help.]