10-4, over and out!   Click!   I can remember vividly the CB radio in our motor home.   We would use it to communicate with my uncle and aunt when they would travel with us.   We were a band of RV gypsies.   My dad called us gypsies, because we roamed from oceans to mountains.   We were like covered wagons migrating to different states.   We would use our CB to stay in constant correspondence with our fellow nomads.   Chatter made its way through static… “How’s everyone doing?”                    One year, we traveled to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.   We loaded up the campers with sand toys, towels, bathing suits, and globs of sunscreen. Before we drove out of the driveway, we turned on the CB.   When traveling, communication is the “dial” to safety.   Wheels turned down the freeway and so did the hours.   A quiet relaxation filled the air of the motorhome, but then we heard, “Come in Bob, come in!”   My dad answered back, “Everything ok, Michael?”   My uncle had t