Tuesday, December 17, 1929
Arrived at Meridian, Alabama, about one and the seven passengers changed into two Buick sedan buses. I got in with two young fellows, both Sigma Chi, one from Michigan, now working in chemical research for the gov’t; the second Howard Sanford of Cleveland on his way to Lima and Cleveland.
The roads were dirt, and plenty muddy but the buses made good time to Tuscaloosa considering all in all. There was a river to cross on a broken-down ferry, the usual delay, etc. We arrived in Tuscaloosa two hours late, grabbed a cup of coffee, and went on in a new Buick sedan bus, this time eight of us packed in with the baggage on top.
The driver told us it would be a fast trip—and so it was. The darned fool tore along like mad, sliding all over creation. Passed the University of Alabama, a good-looking place. We did get to Tuscaloosa and had a forty-minute wait till the one o’clock Greyhound left for Chattanooga.
We had only had one puncture and run out of gas this morning. At three this bus jumped a mile in the air, its rear double wheels on the port side going south, the rest of us going north for 300 feet before we dragged to a standstill. Lucky we didn’t turn over. Just now we’re sitting in the road 60-odd miles from Birmingham, 80 or 90 miles from Chattanooga. A bus is on the way to rescue us but all connections are shot to heck. Now we must wait over till 6:30 AM in Chattanooga to go on to Lexington.