It was late summer in 1972, and Sharon and I had been married about two weeks. Our honeymoon trip, planned by kids who didn’t know what they were doing, was to drive my ’55 Chevy pickup, equipped with a rented camper, from Texas to the scenic Rockies of Colorado, then across Kansas to the Ozark Mountains of Missouri and Arkansas as we made our way back home.

The day I’m remembering was a long one as we began our traverse from Denver to Kansas City, and late that night we found ourselves in the middle of the wide open plains, in Salina, Kan., dead tired as we pulled into a crowded KOA campground. I went inside the office, paid and got my parking assignment, a slot with electricity and water on Row B, space 9. A short time later, we were in dreamland, awaiting another cross country drive on the morrow.

We had talked little that night, and I woke up first and decided to go find the showers. Sharon stirred a bit as I headed outside, and made my way to the building near the office that housed them. The shower water was barely tepid, but it was summertime, so the water felt good. In no real hurry to get back on the road, I took my time, combed my hair to look good for my young wife, and started back to our parking spot.

When I arrived at B-9, all that greeted me was an empty space, no wife, no truck, no camper. And as I assessed my situation, I realized no food, no wallet, no money. What had I done to have made her so mad? Why would she have taken my truck and left me stranded in Kansas, married two weeks and abandoned in the middle of the Great Plains? 

I sat there with all kinds of emotions, and couldn’t imagine what I would tell the folks back home or how I would get there. But, I knew it would take a little money to get back, and, among other troubling questions, I pondered how I would earn some.

But, whether in Texas, Colorado or Kansas, there were signs everywhere, which meant there were sign businesses around, too. I would make my way into town, find a sign shop and offer my services cheap. When I had some cash, I would buy a bus ticket back to Texas and sort out the rest of my problems. 

I remembered when I spoke to Sharon’s dad a few weeks before about my intention of marrying his daughter, he had asked me how I intended to make a living. I told him I planned to continue to do signwork, something I had done to get through two years of college. Unimpressed, but still agreeable, he said, “Well son, you’re a hard working young man, and when you run out of signs to make, you’ll find something else to do.”

Little did I know I would run out of wives far sooner than I would run out of signs. 

Having done enough soul searching and playing mind games for a while, I looked up from where I sat on that picnic table at B-9, and scanned the horizon to see what the weather might bring. The campground was starting to thin a little, as other campers finished their breakfast and got back on the road. This was lucky for me, as from my changing perspective I could now see across the sea of campers, to a parallel spot on E-9. And there sat an old truck painted deep red, with a white top, carrying a small camper, in which a young and beautiful woman was happily cooking breakfast for her equally young, and very dumb husband, who suddenly felt wonderful and hungry at the same time, and quickly made his way back to where he had come from when he left to go and take his shower. 

So, after all these years, though the camping spot has changed a few times, I still come home to the same camping partner. And, there have been no days when I did not have work to do, or times when I’ve had to worry about finding signs to make, not even in a recession. Oh, things have slowed down from time to time, but even in hard economic times business people are willing to advertise, some of them more than ever, and with a bit of marketing we have always had enough work to keep us busy. We have never laid off an employee, and never missed a meal.

Even in the past year or two, when the country really has seen hard times, there is work out there. It may take a bit more effort to go out and get it, but it is out there. I say this as an encouragement to all of us in this business. The sign and graphics business, in all its variations, still holds a lot of opportunity for anyone who will work hard to earn their own slice of success.

I am still working hard, and still counting my blessings, and we are finding work to do for which I am thankful. I hope you are finding your way through this difficult time, too, and your business is going well. And when we finally reach the end of our respective careers, and have the time to once again frequent the campgrounds of this great country, maybe we’ll have a chance to meet and swap a few more stories. And if we happen to cross paths in Salina,… well, I’ve been there before.