I’ve been following this story for a few days. There’s an area on Cleghorn Road that includes old Route 66 near Cajon Junction, Calif., that’s been known for some time as a hangout for men looking for anonymous gay sex.
Of course, when you have a place known for illicit activity, it’s going to become a haven for more serious crimes, like robbery and drug-dealing.
Now there’s been a homicide. The body of a guy was found near the Mother Road, believed to have been killed by suspected serial killer John Wayne Thomson, who was apprehended a few days ago.
Now the sheriff’s department is cracking down on the area, reports the Victorville Daily Press, and netting lots of arrests. I’m glad it’s happening; action was overdue.
I know a few roadies who explore the Cajon Pass alignment of old Route 66. I want them to be aware of what’s going on. The police presence is going to be heightened there for while.
Now you’ve reminded me of my brush with the Dark Side of 66, and the reason I don’t like Barstow, California. After graduating from college in ’75, I thumbed from Seattle to Tucson, to party with friends who lived in northern Mexico. I stood on an I-40 on-ramp on the edge of town all night, with about 10 other hitchers of various ages and destinations. One by one, we were strung out at almost equidistant intervals from the bottom of the ramp to the top. But also standing at my spot was a 15-yo runaway from LA who’d lit out due to some kind of real or imagined parental misdemeanor. He kinda latched onto me, and talked my ear off, but nice kid, same age as my little brother. As in the case of one or two others, we were standing under street lights. The guy at the top of the ramp was in the dark.
About 2 in the morning a pickup rolled slowly by, two young guys in the cab who looked like football players at a glance. They slowed as they reached our spot under the light, but then sped up and continued until they stopped where the next guy was standing. The light in the cab came on, I heard voices, the hitcher picked his pack up and started toward the truck. We were desperate for a ride, so we grabbed our stuff and started running toward the truck, hoping to hop in the back.
Those plans changed immediately upon seeing a double-barreled shotgun protruding from the cab window, and the hitcher being ordered to lie face down on the ground. The passenger got out, took the hitcher’s wallet, and got back in the truck. The truck went to the top of the ramp and stopped, and the hitcher got in. We couldn’t hear the conversation.
The closest phone was a half mile away, but it was flat and we ran the whole way to the convenience store. We got the store to call the police and waited until they arrived. Turns out the perps were (soon to be former) Marines, based at 29 Palms. They’d picked up the guy at the top of the ramp, robbed and beaten him, and left him naked in the middle of I-40. The cops were already looking for them, because they’d also brutally beat a wino in Barstow. This time from the safety of a police cruiser, we saw them again after they were caught. Very scary-lookin’ dudes.
I realized they’d prob’ly passed me by because of my young “ward”. I felt bad about it, but when I was alone with a policeman I told him about the boy running away, and his age. The police didn’t even question him about that, and they took us both back out to the ramp to continue our journey. He never knew I ratted on him, and I always hoped he’d eventually made it back home safely. True story.