We Go To The Store.

My three older brother all had different approaches when it came to their cars.
Steve would take a car on it's last legs and spend all his time fixing it up so he could get it to run. He loved nothing more then to work on cars. Sometimes I would stop by and hear him swearing out in the garage at his new project. He acted mad but you could tell he was really having fun. Nothing pleased him more then taking some old rust bucket and turning it into a speed machine.
Geno treated cars like people treated disposable contact lenses. He'd buy the cheapest piece of junk and drive it till it fell apart. Then he'd leave it were it broke down and go off and find a new one.
John on the other hand would buy speed machines and turn them into rust buckets. John's first car (in 1976. Late 1976) was a 1969 brown Plymouth Road Runner. Within a short amount of time he had reduced it to junk. When Dad sold him his Mustang after some evil youth had put a rock though it's top John took no time at all in turning into a undrivable car. John treated cars like an abusive husband treated his wife.
Dad just wanted a nice car to drive back and forth to work. In January of 1978 when we lived in the small town of Atkinson, some of Dad's contacts at the local county sheriffs office let Dad know they were selling some of their squad cars. They were 1974 LTD's with nice big police engines. One was brown and the other was green. Dad went to the station to check them out and really liked them. The local sheriff was willing to sell them to Dad really cheap for all the help Dad had been in the last few years. Dad hadn't owned a car this new in many years. He had spent many years pouring his money away in booze.
When Dad came home that evening it was in his new brown car. The cop engine meant nothing to him. He just liked the way it looked. I hadn't seen him that proud in years. That evening he took Mom, Rose, and I for a ride. He drove everybody's house that we knew so they could see him in his new car. As we were driving on the highway Mom pointed out to Dad he was doing close to 80 miles an hour.
"Wow I didn't even notice. I'm going to have to watch that. The pedal is really sensitive."
Geno and John were drooling over that car. Each wanted to take it out for a spin before the other.
A week and a half after Dad bought the car Mom wanted to go into Kewanee for some grocery shopping. Dad was tired from a long day at the office and decided to let John drive Mom into town. John was so happy he was almost doing the Snoopy dance. I asked Mom if I could go so I could get some candy. Mom thinking it would be nice for Dad to have some time alone said ok. (I think Rose was on one of her "I'm running away from home" moods again)
Just as we were walking though the snow to get into the car Geno came home from work. He was glaring at John as John pulled out of the driveway in Dad's new car. Right before we left John rolled down the window and said to Geno, "I wish I had a picture of you so I could remember the look on your face."
It wasn't a nice look.
There was two ways we could have taken to Kewanee that each would have kept us on a highway. John decided to take the backroads. He told Mom it was a shortcut. Even though we were doing well over 80 on the way there it seemed to take longer to get to Kewanee then normal. There were many hills on these backroads. I swear to God it felt like we left the ground at times when we got to the top of those hills.
Mom finally yelled at John and made him drive more slowly. Once in Kewanee Mom and I went in the store to shop while John "drove around the block". When we walked out we had to wait just a few moments for John to pull up and help us load the groceries into the back seat. Mom had bought so much there was barely any room for me back there.
On the way home John took the same back roads. This time he kept close to the actual speed limit. For most of the ride home the only interesting thing was trying to find which bag held the candy.
As we were going up one hill we saw the headlight of another car coming up the other side of the hill. John actually slowed down a bit more and moved more to his side of the road.
He should have just kept moving.
Apparently John wasn't the only kid hill hopping that night. Some other local boy with the last name of Sims was out driving his Daddy's new car as well. This kid was in the middle of the road when he came over the hill. I don't remember much about the actual impact, but I do remember Mom screaming.
My next clear memory was of laying in the backseat covered in ice cream. At least one can of Pepsi had burst and was spraying the inside of the car with soda. When I sat up I could see the other car actually sitting on top of our hood. I stumbled out of the back of the car. John helped Mom out and looked at the wreck in disbelieve. When the Sims boy crawled out of his car all he could do was look at both cars and say with a smile, "Wow!"
John went nuts. He grabbed the other kid by his neck and threw him against his car. John started screaming, "Why? WHY? He'll kill me. Dad will kill me! What have you done to me?!" Tears were pouring down his face.
Luckily for us (And the Sims boy John was choking.) a local farmer saw the wreck and called the police. He ran over to us before the police showed up and help Mom separate my brother from the other kid. Every now and then John would rush the other boy again only to drug back by the farmer and Mom.
The entire front of Dad car was smashed. Both front tires were flat and the windshield was cracked. The frame was bent enough that Mom's door would not open. John was right. Dad was going to kill him. While we waited for the police, I crawled back into the car and found my candy and a can of Pepsi.
The police and the ambulance soon arrived. Mom was treated for a cut above her left eye. John had a sore arm. I was giving a large towel or blanket to wipe off the ice cream. The police arrested the other kid for drunk driving. The cops were laughing as they put the kid in the back of a car.
"You know the class you have to take to get your license back after a D.U.I. ? You just wrecked the guys car who teaches you that class." (Sadly Mr. Sims was unable to pass the class for another 18 months) Another squad car pulled up to take us home. Just as we left we saw the tow truck pulling Dad's pride and joy away. The officer told us that someone had already called to tell Dad about the accident. John looked more and more sick the closer we got to home.
As pulled up in front of the house Dad was standing out on the front porch in the cool air waiting for us.
He did not look happy.
The police officer talked to Dad for a little bit letting him know it wasn't John's fault. When he left Dad came back into the house. He looked at Mom and asked, "You ok?" Mom nodded.
"I'm ok!", I shouted out. Dad looked at me and just rolled his eyes.
He looked at John for a long moment. "You're very lucky", he finally said. John turned and walked up the stairs. He went into his bedroom and turned off all the lights.
Geno looked up at him. "He's going to pout up there all night isn't he?" I swear there was a slight smile on Geno's face.
Later while John was sitting in his dark room, (Which by the way was also Geno and mine's dark room) Geno went in and turned on the lights.
"Leave me alone!", John shouted.
Geno looked at him for a moment and said, "I wish I had a picture of you so I could remember the look on your face."
Then he pulled a camera out from behind his back and snapped off a shot of John.



Geno raced out of the room and downstairs before John could do anything. Since it was a Friday night Geno and I stayed downstairs watching TV and laughing at John all night. The next morning he was still sulking in his room.
The insurance came though very quickly for Dad. By the next week he bought the Green LTD the police were selling.
He never ever let anyone drive that car.

Tuesdays Question
What's the worst wreck you've ever been in? And was it your fault?