A car with J.
I mentioned buying a car with my brother. The year I turned 16, Dad had another brush with death. I'll tell you about it another day. But, because of the accident, I didn't get my drivers license till the next year. J. and I lacked two days of being a year apart. His birthday was the 27th and mine was the 29th of April. When he turned 16, he wanted his license. Boys are like that. So, we studied together and went to take our tests the same day. Then we decided we wanted a car. When you live 8 miles from town, and go to a country school, and ride the bus to and from school, a car makes sense. I was involved in school activities (editor of the school paper, musicals, drama plays, etc.) that kept me after school and Mom would have to come and get me. So she wasn't against it. Both boys were in sports that didn't always meet the same day I stayed over. I usually needed it during the week, and J. wanted it on weekends. That was ok with me, because weekends were for dates and I had a boyfriend to take me to events. Actually it worked pretty well for us. The farm had the big overhead gas tank for tractors, and Dad wasn't too strict about our using the gas. If he thought we were running around more than necessary, he might grumble, but I don't remember him asking me to pay. If he got money from J, I didn't know about it.
I was the first to wreck the car. Mom sent me on an errand and I left wearing a pair of Genie, (I dream of Jeannie) slippers. They were soft with a flimsy sole. Fine for the house, but outside I must have picked up a pebble that stuck to the bottom of the shoe. I could feel it under my foot against the gas peddle. Soooo, I leaned down to brush off the bottom of the slipper. While driving down the county road. Taking my eyes off the road. That did slow the car down, because my foot was in my hand and not on the gas. But, my face was also down near my foot. The car left the road, dropped in the ditch, tore out about 50 foot of Dads fence. I don't know how I missed the Electrical Pole. The car bounced back up on the road and came to rest. Shook up but ok, I got out of the car.....and twisted my ankle on the road. Story of my life. When I looked to see what damage had been done to the car, it was obvious I wasn't going to drive it that way. The front bumper was embedded in the front tire. I was closer to the neighbor than I was to our house, so I started limping in their direction. After they realized it wasn't bad and could have been worse, my family did the usual teasing. With a swollen ankle, I didn't even have to fix the fence. They pulled out the bumper and J. did what he could to make it look better. I did have to pay for the new tire. But, the teasing was the worst I suffered. It lasted till J. pulled the prank with the pigeons.
J and his friends, (hhmmm, I can't remember if brother S was along or not. They usually were in things together.) went to another town one Saturday evening. We were into ghost stories back then and there was a doozie not too far away. A woman had told her friends her husband was trying to kill her. He was well liked and no believed her. She told someone that if she died, she was going to let them know that he did it in a way they couldn't ignore. All of this had happened years before and it was legend. She did die, was buried and on her tombstone the marbling changed shape to show a womans profile with hands around her throat. The tombstone was removed and the image came back. It was sandblasted and the image came back. It was written up in a national magazine (so the story goes, I never saw the article) and that is how the story lasted till some kids heard about it. This small cemetary was a favorite place for kids to gather. We all saw the tombstone. We would sit around it telling ghost stories till the local police would run us off. It got to the point the cemetary was fenced and locked and we couldn't get in. Now someone told J they had discovered where these people lived and the farm was abondoned. So, kids started hanging out in the country at the farm. Our groups never did any damage, but someone caused some trouble because the police had to start watching the farm. J and his friends were at the farm. I guess they had parked out behind the barn so the car wouldn't be seen from the road. I'm not sure of the details because I was too mad to listen. The boys had been in the barn and haymow. They found about 30 pigeons and put them in the car. Loose. Driving the 30plus miles back, they started stopping at rural mailboxes and putting pigeons inside. I can't even imagine what that (or those) poor mailman experienced when he opened those mailboxes the following Monday. But, that is the kind of "TROUBLE" farm boys thought up in our day. Now, wonder why I was so mad? OK, think about it. Over 30 miles with dirty birds flying and pooping inside MY car. I got up Sunday Morning and was going to Church early because of some reason I have no idea of now. Dressed up, I opened the car door and............I never made it to Church. J spent the whole day cleaning out the car. The seats had to be removed and hosed down. The whole car was hosed down. And it still stank. It was a long time before that story started to be funny to me.
The summer before my Senior year, J and his friend D asked me if they could change the car from automatic shift to standard shift. I'd driven both and didn't care. I don't know anything about converting this kind of mechanical job, but neither did they. They did accomplish the task. But, we had a hole the size of a football in the floor of the car. You could see the road go by underneath. And the dust! Then winter came and the COLD blew all over your feet and legs. Then it snowed and the SNOW blew all over your feet and legs. The car pretty much became J's own property after that. When I graduated and left, the car was his. I don't even know what became of it.
But then, hey, brother and sister got along fine with the shared car.
I was the first to wreck the car. Mom sent me on an errand and I left wearing a pair of Genie, (I dream of Jeannie) slippers. They were soft with a flimsy sole. Fine for the house, but outside I must have picked up a pebble that stuck to the bottom of the shoe. I could feel it under my foot against the gas peddle. Soooo, I leaned down to brush off the bottom of the slipper. While driving down the county road. Taking my eyes off the road. That did slow the car down, because my foot was in my hand and not on the gas. But, my face was also down near my foot. The car left the road, dropped in the ditch, tore out about 50 foot of Dads fence. I don't know how I missed the Electrical Pole. The car bounced back up on the road and came to rest. Shook up but ok, I got out of the car.....and twisted my ankle on the road. Story of my life. When I looked to see what damage had been done to the car, it was obvious I wasn't going to drive it that way. The front bumper was embedded in the front tire. I was closer to the neighbor than I was to our house, so I started limping in their direction. After they realized it wasn't bad and could have been worse, my family did the usual teasing. With a swollen ankle, I didn't even have to fix the fence. They pulled out the bumper and J. did what he could to make it look better. I did have to pay for the new tire. But, the teasing was the worst I suffered. It lasted till J. pulled the prank with the pigeons.
J and his friends, (hhmmm, I can't remember if brother S was along or not. They usually were in things together.) went to another town one Saturday evening. We were into ghost stories back then and there was a doozie not too far away. A woman had told her friends her husband was trying to kill her. He was well liked and no believed her. She told someone that if she died, she was going to let them know that he did it in a way they couldn't ignore. All of this had happened years before and it was legend. She did die, was buried and on her tombstone the marbling changed shape to show a womans profile with hands around her throat. The tombstone was removed and the image came back. It was sandblasted and the image came back. It was written up in a national magazine (so the story goes, I never saw the article) and that is how the story lasted till some kids heard about it. This small cemetary was a favorite place for kids to gather. We all saw the tombstone. We would sit around it telling ghost stories till the local police would run us off. It got to the point the cemetary was fenced and locked and we couldn't get in. Now someone told J they had discovered where these people lived and the farm was abondoned. So, kids started hanging out in the country at the farm. Our groups never did any damage, but someone caused some trouble because the police had to start watching the farm. J and his friends were at the farm. I guess they had parked out behind the barn so the car wouldn't be seen from the road. I'm not sure of the details because I was too mad to listen. The boys had been in the barn and haymow. They found about 30 pigeons and put them in the car. Loose. Driving the 30plus miles back, they started stopping at rural mailboxes and putting pigeons inside. I can't even imagine what that (or those) poor mailman experienced when he opened those mailboxes the following Monday. But, that is the kind of "TROUBLE" farm boys thought up in our day. Now, wonder why I was so mad? OK, think about it. Over 30 miles with dirty birds flying and pooping inside MY car. I got up Sunday Morning and was going to Church early because of some reason I have no idea of now. Dressed up, I opened the car door and............I never made it to Church. J spent the whole day cleaning out the car. The seats had to be removed and hosed down. The whole car was hosed down. And it still stank. It was a long time before that story started to be funny to me.
The summer before my Senior year, J and his friend D asked me if they could change the car from automatic shift to standard shift. I'd driven both and didn't care. I don't know anything about converting this kind of mechanical job, but neither did they. They did accomplish the task. But, we had a hole the size of a football in the floor of the car. You could see the road go by underneath. And the dust! Then winter came and the COLD blew all over your feet and legs. Then it snowed and the SNOW blew all over your feet and legs. The car pretty much became J's own property after that. When I graduated and left, the car was his. I don't even know what became of it.
But then, hey, brother and sister got along fine with the shared car.
posted by LeeAnn | 7:19 PM
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