Back in high school in the late 50’s the little band of bad guys that I hung around
with, cruised around on Friday nights in a 49 Chevy 4dr stick shift. Back then you
could find an old Chevy beater for fifty to a hundred bucks. Craig, the guy that
owned the beater, worked construction so he had money to burn and didn’t really
care if he burned up one beater, he’d just go out a pick up another.
One Friday night we picked up our case of beer at the Old Mill Tavern and were
cruising around in the country sucking up suds and for some reason, probably
because the shifter box was worn, it got stuck in first gear. So he just drove it
around the rest of the night in first gear, wide open. Once when we stopped to tap
a kidney the old 216 was steaming like old faithful and when we popped the hood
the exhaust manifold was glowing bright red. Craig went on to drive that old
Stovebolt for the rest of the school year to work and all, and it never did give up
the ghost that I can remember.
They will take one ell of a beating and keep on tickin’.
Denny Graham
Somewhere north of Sandwich, IL
