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The End of HoJo’s

Bill Tope

In 1968 the war was raging in
Viet Nam and my boyfriend was
selected by the local draft board
to be inducted into the Army.

So I agreed to drop out of high
school and go with Chad to British
Columbia so he could escape
induction.

The only person we told was my
Dad who, having served in WWII,
agreed that it was probably the
best thing for us to do.

He knew how committed I was to
Chad and Dad didn’t seem to think
that Chad could handle being in the
Army, much less serve in a war and
possible combat.

He asked how we would survive, how
we would mke a living. Well, said Chad,
there are Howard Johnson’s in Canada,
too, referencing his position as a fry
cook in nearby Seattle.

So we hit the road, Pacific Highway, to
be exact. We had the advantage of it
being a short trip—just over a hundred
miles—to B.C.

We got a couple of short hops and then
near the border accepted a lift from a
couple of kids even younger than me—
still in high school—riding an old VW bus.

After we agreeably shared our dope witth
them, one of them shocked the shit out of
us by pulling a huge, ugly bllack revolver
and pointing it straight at my head.

They pulled into a clearing in a forest and
both raped me. Though Chad had told me
many times that he loved me, he wasn’t
willing to put his life on the line for me, to
call their bluff. I felt so alone, so betrayed.

We finally arrived in Canada and of course I
turned out to be pregnant. Chad had always
used protection—he said—and of course the
rapists didn’t, so Chad claimed to not be the
fatther of my baby. I named her Samantha.

After she was born, he kicked me and Sam
out and we had to go on Canadian Medicare
and FSP and the affordable housing program,
the lot. While Chad kept his job at the local
Howard Johnson’s—they always needed fry
cooks—he contributed not a penny to us.

So, all alone, we headed back to the States.
Chad wasn’t there to say good-bye; he had a
new girlfriend, I’d heard. Dad of course,
welcomed us back warmly, with open arms; he
didn’t say it, but he could have said I told you so.

Eventually I wentt back to school, then to college
and finally law school; I got my law license in
1977, the same year that Chad returned from
Canada. This was after President Carter issued
a pardon to all draft dodgers in the war.

Seeing as how I was well settled and seemed
destined to become successful and well-fixed,
Chad tried to rekindle the fires of romance. Dad
modestly suggested that Chad make love to
himself. Chad bristled angrily, but I agreed with
Dad.

I never got married, though I did have romances,
as well as two more children. They both have
relationships with their father and though I would
not have objected, Sam never showed any
interest in going that route.

Sam is married now, with children and grandchildren
of her own. She’s an attorney, as well. I’m so proud
of her! She hopes her daughters will follow in our
footsteps and join the law practice she and I have
built. I retired just last spring.

i was reminded of all this the other day when I read
that Howard Johnson’s had shuttered its last existing
restaurant only recently. I guess that means that Chad
can retire now, too.

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