A long journey home to Christmas

Frederick R. Bedell Jr. lives in Glen Oaks.

Two days before Christmas 1973, it was cold and beginning to snow when I set out from Great Lakes, Ill., at 6 a.m. to get home to my two boys on Long Island. My sons, Tommy and Bobby, were in a foster home in Levittown because my wife had left us.

I was in the Navy and hadn't enough money to fly home. Roger, a buddy, had a car and could get me as far as Ohio. I could get a Greyhound bus there, which would cost less.

The roads were starting to get icy. All of a sudden Roger's car skidded, spun and hit the back of a truck.

We were lucky, though, and escaped unhurt. Now I had to hitchhike. I was 50 miles from Indianapolis. Seeing me in my dress blues, a man who said he never picked up hitchhikers gave me a ride because it was Christmas.

He dropped me off near a ramp that went into town. Just then, another man driving a snowplow offered a ride. He got me into the main part of town. I was walking in snow about a half-foot deep when a young couple picked me up and drove me to the bus station. I got out and wished them a happy holiday.

The station was crammed with homebound soldiers and sailors. I struck up a conversation with a young woman who was trying to get home to New York City to her daughter. We found out that Greyhound was giving couples first priority, so we presented ourselves as a pair and got on a bus sooner.

I finally got to the Port Authority terminal in Manhattan at 7 a.m. Christmas Eve.

The F train and then a bus took me to Queens Village, where I was was greeted heartily by my father-in-law and my mother-in-law. (Their daughter was living now in Nevada.) We had breakfast and set out to pick up the boys in Levittown.

When we got there, Tommy, 4, saw me first and yelled to Bobby, 3, that "new daddy'' was here. They called me that to distinguish me from their foster parents.

We got back to the Queens Village house and that night celebrated Christmas. I opened my sea bag and gave my boys their toys - a Mack truck, a fire truck and coloring books and crayons - which I said Santa Claus had entrusted to me when I was up North. At that they gave me a big hug and kiss.

My long journey was worth it. I hope and pray that the many who are serving our country today can make it home safely as I did so long ago. Families are what the holidays are all about.