Now, all this hard work, dry weather, inconveniences, and low farm wages got us to wondering if we might be missing something. So in the fall of 1943 we toyed with the idea of getting into war work. Later the toying became a definite plan which led to the purchase of a travel trailer. In November we stored our furniture, left our farm machinery for Earl to sell, and headed for California. We knew some folks who had gone to California from Royston and they told us to come on out, the wages were fine. We called it war work, but its purpose was twofold, to help produce the weapons of war and to help the Clarence Johnsons make more money faster. But getting into war work wasn't all that easy. Before I could work at any job I had to get a release from farming, because farming was an essential industry in the total effort toward winning the war. I went to the Sweetwater Employment Agency Office and they couldn't give me a release. They sent me to the Abilene office, and Abilene didn't have the authority to grant me a release either. They told me I would have to go to the Sweetwater office. I told them that Sweetwater had sent me to Abilene. Then they told me I would have to go to Dallas. But I didn't go to Dallas, I went home. I figured that Dallas might send me to Chicago and Chicago might send me to Washington, and I didn't want to go to Washington. I kept hoping someone would send me to Los Angeles, because that's where I wanted to go. But they didn't. So we got ready and headed for California anyway. Crazy, you say? Sure, most of my friends thought so, too. But I knew what I was doing. I was backing my judgment and going out on my own again, like building a tractor, like repairing a motor bearing, like not letting Federal Offices shove me around. Every town of any size had an Employment Agency. Every Agency had the authority to grant a permit to work. All I needed was to qualify for a permit. They called the permit an availability slip. And without the slip, no one could hire me. They didn't want people switching from job to job. They wanted all of us to stay put and produce goods to win the war. Now, I was producing about enough on the farm to feed my family. And I figured most any of my neighbors could make the old farm produce that much while I was away. That's one reason we headed west. We stopped somewhere west of Hamlin and east of California and I applied for a permit. They handed me a form and I filled it out. But, since I was a farmer, they couldn't release me and give me a work slip. So, what now, go back? Certainly not. California was west and that's where we were going. We never could get there by turning back.