Today reminded me of a day we traveled to Grove City, Ohio. A dreary fall day with leaves dull or gone surrounded the highway. Dan drove us in his red and white Cadillac. We ventured to an Am-way rally at the Grove City high school, a large yellow brick building housing an immense auditorium.
Dan, enthusiastic about causes he joined, invited my dad, who as you may remember was out of work from the accident the year before. Am-way provided more than soap. It promoted a business model promising the American dream. Mom liked the L.O.C. for our laundry. Dad, too, joined in selling. The money, though, was to get people to sign up to the company and sell under you.
Five of us fit comfortably on the white leather seats of the boat of a car. Being twelve and a half, in junior high, I must say I did not want to spend my Saturday doing this. But we didn't get out much, since driving wore my father out at this time. We ate at a small diner/restaurant in rural Ohio.
The talks inspired the crowd. I had an attitude that I shouldn't really like this, but they were motivating speakers. Maybe I should even sell Am-way.
Such an odd time seventh grade. I loved my family, yet, the natural thing is pulling away from what they liked. Sitting in that back seat watching the darkness pass on the way home, I said little in favor of the rally or negative, even though that seemed to be the cool thing to do. I'm sure I joked about it rolling my eyes about this Saturday trip on Monday in school.