Why would a perfectly respectable, more or less sensible husband, father, and teacher, hitchhike to Alaska? One of his favorite quotes was from Edward Mallory'who, when asked why he climbed Mt. Everest, responded "because it was there." That sums up his approach to life. Why go somewhere's? Because it's there. Warren Ison came from a family known for itchy feet. His ancestors were early settlers in Maine, Conneticutt, Ohio and Iowa. They moved states every generation. Daddy liked to travel, money was scarce, and hitchhiking was an option. So, he went places: Mexico City, the New York World's Fair, any place he wanted to see. In the days before serial killers and interstate highways, hitchhiking was a viable travel option for someone who needed to travel or someone with more curiosity than money. In India, during World War II, he hitchhiked when he couldn't take a train. It doesn't seem real now this was real, but honest, folks, it was. In 1959 Alaska was a new thing. It became a state in January 3, 1959. The state was a mystery to those of us in the contiguous states. It was sparsely populated and difficult to reach (This was the days before Alaska Air). My father had always been curious and (just maybe) he wanted one last grand adventure before settling down to complete adulthood. The stars aligned, my mother was willing, and off he went. Coming home he wrote this book to share his adventures and the stories of the people he met. It had been a grand adventure, indeed.This journey could never be repeated today. Hitchhiking is insanely dangerous. Interstate highways make it impossible. There are more laws than ever. But, step back to a past world and enjoy the adventure. Warren Xaver Ison was a true Renaissance man, a scholar, teacher, B-24 mechanic, rail-fan, hitch-hiker, husband, and my father. He was the son of a teacher from South Dakota and a Bavarian-born steam engineer and Union man. An Ohio boy, he grew up during the Great Depression, went to college, and then to war. After the War, he continued his education, finishing a Masters in History at Bowling Green of Ohio. His calling was as an educator – he taught in small rural schools across Michigan, including the newly formed Maple Valley district in Nashville and Vermontville, Michigan where he was the first librarian.He married my mother, Mary Allen, a good Mormon girl from Utah (and that is a story in itself). He remarried after Mary's death, to Ferceyna Easterlin – who he picked up in the Graduate Library of the University of Michigan. They were in a Reference class together and they both wanted a smart person in their lives. She was the sort of woman who could understand someone deciding to hitch-hike to Alaska and ride trains for fun. And she didn't mind an instant daughter.He was curious, interested, and always ready to learn something new. He wrote because he had stories to tell. While he was never able to get published, modern publishing is allowing me to bring his books to the public.
