If anyone out there knows a guy by the name of Dick Chilson, who was from Arizona and who served in the Army in France in 1963, tell him I said hello and thank him for me. The following excerpts from my book explain why.

New York, February, 1964 “I gave notice at work and to my landlady. About two weeks later, in early March, I loaded up my 1959 Rambler American with all my clothes, my typewriter, and a World War II bayonet that had been given to me for protection by a friend. I clipped it under the dashboard.”

“My grandparents were distraught.’Where are you going?’ ‘Arizona,’ I said. I had three hundred dollars in my pocket and still owed about that much on the car. I was determined to get to Arizona, look up an old army buddy named Chilson, who once told me that if I ever needed a job, I should come out and drive dump trucks for his Dad.”

“With a full tank of gas, and everything I owned in the car, and a map, I headed west. The first part of the journey was familiar, retracing the route back toward Iowa. [Where I briefly went to college.] It was a relief to leave New York behind for good. I had no plans, no dreams, no driving motivation except to escape. Surely God was through with me now. I just wanted to get out west, and if I died in the desert, that would be just fine with me.”

“I heard a noise, a faint but distinct clicking sound from underneath the car as I accelerated out of the toll booth in Indiana. I had driven all night from New York to New Jersey, across the Pennsylvania Turnpike, into Ohio, and through most of Indiana. It was early Sunday morning as I passed through the last toll booth in Indiana. The clicking noise grew more rapid as I picked up speed. Now, approaching Chicago I began to worry. If the car broke down here, in this city, on a Sunday, then by Monday I’d be broke too, after paying for towing, lodging and repairs. Chicago just sat there, unmoved, waiting to take my last three hundred dollars and suck me into its grasp. Perhaps I prayed. Pulling off the highway, I consulted a map. Where could I go? Then I noticed Racine, Wisconsin, just north of Chicago on the map. Tom Stickland lived in Racine. We hadn’t corresponded since he left France, [Where we served together in the Army.] but he might still be there [in Racine]. I eased back out onto the highway heading north, being very gentle with my Rambler, hoping to leave Chicago behind to find help in Wisconsin.”

“The big rustic sign at the border welcomed me to Wisconsin. The air was so fresh, the sky so big and blue. There were trees and farm fields along the highway. As I neared Racine, I pulled off the highway and located a phone booth. Nervously, I dialed … and Tom answered the phone. ‘Hi Tom! It’s Bob Frohlich, you know, from the Army.’ He remembered. I told him where I was and how my car was having problems and how I hoped he could help me get it fixed. Tom gave me directions to a shopping center near where he lived and told me he’d meet me there. I got back in the Rambler and gingerly continued north to the Racine exit at Highway 11, then turned east toward Racine. Tom took me to his favorite garage where they replaced the worn out universal joint in my Rambler for about fifteen dollars. I took a room at a hotel downtown and started to get reacquainted with Tom over beers at his favorite bar in Kenosha. Racine was a friendly enough place— not slap-you-on-the-back friendly, but mostly kind and helpful.”

“It was [later in] March, and I was running low on cash. Tom and his fiancée, Sue Sorenson, were getting married in August, and Tom suggested I stick around until then. Sure, why not? I thought. I began to fill out job applications at all the major factories but wasn’t having any luck getting hired. Tom said, ‘Why don’t you try Moxness Products? They’ll hire anybody.’ He was right. And if coming to Racine was a profound miracle of redirection straight from the hand of God, then getting a job at Moxness Products was an equally unexpected and profoundly life-changing event. Marleen Sheeder worked there.”

“Marleen was a petite brown-haired, brown eyed girl with a small mouth and a sweet shy smile. Our first date was a cheap one. Tom got us tickets for a company picnic at Muskego Beach Park. We had a great time, playing carnival games, eating, walking, and talking. At one point, as we walked along, Marleen took my hand. I can still feel the electric shock of that first touch. I couldn’t believe it. She likes me!”

“I lived in a rooming house on Main Street, and when I had time I would eat at George Webb on Main Street. Breakfast was fifty-two cents. But I didn’t always eat. Marleen would bring me a piece of toast from home sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon.”

“On December 11th, 1965, Marleen and I were going to attend a company Christmas party with Tom and Sue. I picked her up at home and after we got in the car, I pulled a ring out of my pocket, offered it to her and said, ‘I want you to be my wife.’ She didn’t say a word, but accepted the ring and we kissed.”

“We began to attend Bethany Methodist Church and planned our wedding for Saturday, April 9, 1966. But first I thought it would be proper for Marleen to meet my family. We flew out to New York and stayed with my grandparents. Marleen met the whole clan. It was all very cordial of course, and everyone thought Marleen was wonderful, and that I was a very lucky man. I agreed, except I would have used the word ‘blessed’.”

[After the wedding] “Our apartment was one of six above a hardware store. It had a living room, bedroom, kitchen, and bath. It was about five blocks from Moxness, where Marleen still worked, and about a mile to the Varsity Boot Shop, a family shoe store where I now worked. Marleen was earning sixty-five dollars a week as a clerk typist and I started out at sixty dollars a week at the shoe store. Rent was seventy dollars a month, and for twenty dollars we could buy all the groceries we needed at the A&P store across the parking lot from our apartment.”

“Thus, about thirteen months after arriving in Racine with a broken car, less than three hundred dollars, and only one friend, I was now married, employed, and settled. I could not believe it.”

Excerpt From: Robert Frohlich. “Aimless Life, Awesome God.” Apple Books. https://books.apple.com/us/book/aimless-life-awesome-god/id1129891739

Marleen and I have been married for fifty-four years and counting. My planned escape from New York, and possibly from life itself, instead led to a new and fruitful life in Wisconsin. Thanks be to God, and to Dick Chilson for the role he played in turning a hopeless situation into a great life.

“I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the Lord.”

Psalm 118:17 ESV”