With some reluctance, but trying not to show it, I agreed to take the children to see Neal's father. Not that I didn't want to meet him or have him see the children, but he was living in a hotel in a neighborhood that made me uncomfortable, and I couldn't imagine what we would have to talk about. I knew I had to make the effort though - it meant so much to Neal. As it happened, all went well. Neal decided at the last minute to stay in the car with the children, letting them hang out the window to wave at their grandfather, while I went in alone. It was just as well; the poor dear really didn't know who I was, but as long as I kept mentioning his son, he was happy to see me. While I was there, a wonderful floozy of a woman went in and out of his room, clucking and fussing over Neal, Sr., and I was glad to reassure Neal that his father was being very well looked after. Afterwards Neal went up to see him on his own, while I stayed with the children. Neal's filial affec!
tion was appeased, and when his father died a few years later he was able to return to Denver with a clear conscience to arrange the burial."

Carolyn Cassady
Off The Road
(this section also excerpted in Women of The Beat Generation)

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