Stories from my Father - Automobiles

The First Automobile
The first automobile I remember seeing belonged to my father’s step uncle, Ike Richerson.  It was a CarterCar, a two seated touring car.  I am not sure it had a top covering.  As I remember it, the top was either always folded or that it did not have a top.   That car had a clever type of clutch-transmission.  attached to the rear of the engine was a leather faced disk about 18 inches in diameter. When in the driving mode, a smaller wheel rolled against the large disk and thru gears turned the rear wheels of the car.  When the small wheel was moved along an axle near the center of the disk, the car was in low gear.  As the small wheel was moved nearer the perimeter of the large disk, the highest gear was reached and of course the faster speed was obtained. I remember that mechanism because most of the time Uncle had the transmission apart placing a new leather face on the drive wheel.  The sand beds of the roads of that era made the leather face wear out often.

Advantage of a Hill
 I have mentioned the many advantages of our house being on a fairly high hill.  That Hill had another good use.  That was as an aid in starting our old Model T Ford in cold weather.  We would pour a kettle of boiling water on the intake manifold of the engine.  Then, with someone under the steering wheel, the other members of the family would give the car a push-off.  By the time the car was rolling good the driver would release the clutch.  Most of the time the engine would fire off promptly.  If alternate rounds and clutching did not start the engine by the time the car reached the bottom of the hill we would scrub the proposed trip because nothing else was going to start it.  Of course if it came to that, and the need to go was urgent enough, we would hitch the team to the old car and pull it back to the top of the hill for another kettle of water on the manifold and another run down the hill.
 
Cars and Trucks
The first car I owned was a Model T Ford coupe.  Paid $100 for it,  $25 deposit and three $25 payments each month thereafter.  We were living in Graham.  Patsy was about two and a half months old.  We decided to drive to my parents' home 4 miles north of Godley, anxious to show off our new baby.  Started the journey soon after five on a Friday evening.  A front blew in before we reached mineral Wells, and it began to rain.  We had the bad luck of two flat tires along the way.  Didn't have a spare so I had to get out in the rain and patch the tires.  It was cold.  Car had no heater.  Patsy was crying most of the time and Mom and I felt like crying.  It sure was not a pleasure trip.   The first new car we bought was at Fort Stockton.  A 1936 Chevrolet sedan.  It was painted a bright yellow.  Stood on the show room floor for a long time because no one wanted that gaudy a car.  Finally the dealer said he would knock off the price of a repaint job if I would buy the car.  I did buy it but never painted it.  We called it the, "Yellow Queen."  Paid $800 for it, drove it five years and sold it to brother-in-law Marvin Miller for $200.  Cheap transportation compared to prices today.

Driving to town
I remember driving our old Model T Ford from the farm north of Godley to Montgomery Wards at Fort Worth for three spools of new barbed wire.  We needed to do some fence repair.  Nothing remarkable about going to the city for a few spools of wire except that I was only 17 years old.  I had no trouble finding Wards because the highway I came in on ran into the street Wards was on. Because Wards is going out of business reminded me of that trip.  We often ordered tires and repair parts for the Old Model T from Wards by parcel post.  Send an order in the mail on Monday and the goods would be at our mailbox Wednesday.

The High Wheel Harley

I just today remembered that I once rode motorcycles.  Paid $60 for a used high wheel Harley-Davidson.  Rode it around town on the pavement until I felt I had acquired enough skill to handle the dirt road.  Started out and, within a hundred yards, dropped the front wheel in a rut and fell over on the side.  I jumped up and jerked the cycle upright again.  The motor was still running and it was in gear so the motorcycle pulled loose from me and fell over again.  That got my attention and I turned it off and rolled it out of the rut and rode safely on after that, of course on the lookout to stay out of ruts.

I must have traded that bike off because later I had one with a side car on it.  Thought the girls would flock to ride in that.  Maybe one in five would take a short spin with me.  A sidecar makes a motorcycle is hard to handle.  First, it is a load dragging you back.  Second, turn fast to the side the car is on and you lose control easily.  Swapped the sidecar off for a battery for the cycle.  I last rode the cycle when about half mile out of Venus en route from visiting my cousins near De Soto.  The motor froze and the wheels skidded.  Got it out of gear and pushed it back to a garage at Venus.  Asked if I could store it there and come back for it later.  Caught a bus on home.  When I went back, the  garage man told me as soon as the motor cooled down it became loose again and was ready to run as soon as I put oil in it.  It had run low on oil.  Later hauled it home and sold it to a guy before I ever rode it again.  Guy never paid for it.  Good riddance.

Tires
The first car tires I have any memory of were made of two layers of woven cotton fabric enmeshed in natural rubber.  Over this was vulcanized a pattern molded tread, also of natural rubber mixed with carbon dust, to give it body and color.  Black unless some dye was introduced to give it another color. The tire was inflated with a natural rubber inner tube.  Of course my early experience with tires was with the ones used on the Model T Ford.  They were called clincher tires because they were held on the wheel rim with molded projections which fit into grooves on the steel rim of the wheel.  The size tires on the Model T Ford were 3 x 30 inch for the front wheels and 3 1/2 x 30 inch on the rear wheels.  Of course if anyone was affluent enough to carry spare tires, they required two, one for the front and the other size for the rear.

Those tires were placed on the wheel with tire irons.  One tire iron came with the tool set that was furnished with a new Ford.  Most users had a pair of broken buggy springs for tire irons.  The spring part was about 1 1/2 inches wide and tapered from the thick end to a very thin point.  Worked real smooth, better than the standard tire tool.  Punctures were repaired with cold patches which came in the kit.  You peeled the backing off and applied the soft side to the tube where the adhesive held it.  I have seen tubes with 35 or 40 patches on them.  Of course those thin tires punctured easily.  To inflate the tires, every driver carried a pump.   The Goldenrod brand of pump was the favorite.  It had a longer barrel than most others.

Next, the cord tire was put on the market.  That replaced the fabric kind with a stronger body.  Then four ply cord tires came out.  Those reduced the blowouts considerably.  About the time of, or soon after, World War I synthetic material began to replace natural rubber in tire manufacturing. "Necessity is the mother of invention."  As natural rubber came in short supply a substitute was found to replace it.

The Company Pickup Truck

I drove a Ford Falcon pickup for the telephone company for a few years.  It, being small and light, was very peppy.  Got in a race with a guy in Chevy pickup once out west of Mineral Wells.  Crawled off and left him behind.  As old as I was, I should have known better than to be racing. But he pulled up even with me and, so to speak, threw down the glove, so I took him on.  Slowly crawled ahead of him then slowed and waved him on.  Another time I was on that road in the rain and a car coming to meet me began to aquaplane all over the road.  I took to the bar ditch and immediately bogged down. The lady in the car got it stopped and offered to try to pull me out.  She was very upset.  I said, "Lady, you have enough trouble already.  Just go on. Someone will be along soon to pull me out."  She went on.  Soon a truck stopped and pulled me back on the road.

Another time, one of our heavy construction trucks ran out of gas few miles out of Breckenridge.  He called the office so I ran out in the Falcon to pull them in.  Tied into that big truck and that little pickup could not move it.  Skidded tires and bounced up and down.  I drove back to town and got some gasoline, as I should have done in the first effort.

The Policeman
While en route from Fort Worth to Breckenridge a few years ago, we were stopped in the east side of Mineral Wells by a policeman.  He asked for my driver's license and then said, "Mr. Anderson, you were clocked driving 55 in a 35 mile zone.  I will have to give you a citation." I said, "Sir, you are to be congratulated."  He asked what for.  I replied, "I have been driving for 60 years and you have the honor of being the officer who is giving me my first traffic ticket."  He tore the ticket out of his pad and tore it in two pieces. saying,  "I am not going to spoil a record like that.  You be careful on your way."  I had gone into mineral Wells with the cruise control on and did not see the change of speed sign, but had slowed before he pulled me over.

Monday Meanderings - 10.28.2013

Some observations and random thoughts while driving across miles and miles of Texas:

Llano Estacado - After gaining the Caprock, gazing out over flat, endless plains, Barb wondered how it was possible for Indians to sneak up on Settlers, or Soldiers to surprise Indians. Anything taller than a Jack Rabbit would be seen for miles.

Mesquite trees - I was working at a gas station in my youth - back in the days when an attendant pumped gas, cleaned the windshield and checked the oil - when a car with California plates stopped at our station. The driver asked the name of the trees throughout the countryside; he described them and said that in California they had something similar they called a "Pepper Tree." I explained that he was looking at Mesquite trees. His response: "Why did you plant so many of them?"

Wind Turbines - In addition to the turbines continuously visible along the 125 mile stretch of highway between Abilene and Post, there are now a hundred or so turbines under construction south of Goldthwaite. They are getting closer.

Underwood's Restaurant - I once saw a current Texas Supreme Court Justice involved in a food fight in Underwood's in Brownwood. Just wish I had pictures.

Bluffs overlooking Abilene - Always remind me that I once drove a car off one of those bluffs. I'm certain that it's still down there.

Dyess Air Base - Wonder where the front gate is? Been through the back gate often, but don't know where the front door is. Not that I really need to know, mind you.

Yes, we made a trip to Lubbock to see our grandchildren (and their parents). Luke has been playing Junior High football, so of course we had to go see a game. It was a lot of fun; players, cheerleaders, mascots, and parents - the whole nine yards!

Speaking of football, you have no doubt seen the pink towels, shoes, hats, arm bands and other  paraphernalia that players and coaches wear to promote the fight against cancer.  I have it on good authority that a former high-school public address announcer, noting the cheerleaders running onto the field in their pink regalia, pointed out to the crowd that "October was Breast Awareness month."

The Bomb Squad - Stories for my Grandchildren

While going through some old documents recently, I came across a note that reminded me of the evening we the encounterd the local bomb squad. Here's the tale:

A number of years ago we were car shopping, and after several trips to several dealers, we decided to go with an offer from Howdy Honda. They didn't have a car on the lot configured exactly like we wanted, so they were bringing in a vehicle from another dealership, and it would be later in the day before everything was ready, so just to be sure we set the time for the closing at 7pm.

After supper, Barb and I drove back to south Austin, and as we got close, we saw lots and lots of flashing red and blue lights. Now, you don't like to see an EMS unit in front of the place of business you are destined for, and you get even more concerned when you see a bunch of cop cars there, and of course it's almost expected that there will also be a fire truck or two, but thankfully we didn't notice the bomb squad vehicles until we got inside the dealership!

The salesman greeted us and said "No problems. I moved your car to the other side of the building while the bomb squad disposes of the bomb the police found inside of the stolen car in our service driveway." And sure enough, there is a guy walking around outside in some industrial-strength padding, and a little red trailer with a heavily armored canister mounted on it, and guys with portable x-ray equipment taking pictures of whatever is in the trunk of this car!

I'm like, "We can do this tomorrow - no problem. Yes, why don't we come back in a few days - if there is a car left."  The salesman assures us everything is okay - we'll do the closing in an office on the far side of all the activity.

It seems the deal is, a kid came in with a car with the steering column broken. He said that his car had been stolen (the broken column) but the police recovered it and he needed to leave it to get it repaired. The service manager checks and finds out he has to order parts, but he didn't get a phone number for the guy, so he looks in the checkbook that's lying in the front seat and calls that phone number and the people say, "We don't have a car like that. How did you get our number?" The manager says from the check book in the car, and they say, "That check book was stolen - call the cops."

The cops came, and checked the out car and found a big, heavy, suspicious-looking plastic PVC pipe all wrapped in duct tape in the trunk - so they called in the bomb squad! We got there about the time the bomb squad x-rayed the pipe and saw that there were wires and batteries and stuff in it, so they wrapped the pipe in lead blankets and gingerly hoisted everything into the canister on the trailer and clamped the lid down tight. At this point, one might think that they would haul it off and do something remotely, but no! Standard procedure apparently is to set off an explosion inside the canister to detonate the bomb - while parked in the driveway of an all-glass building surrounded by dozens of new cars! I am not making this up!

They set off the detonation (while we were signing the papers) and it sounded like a very heavy metal object - oh, say, a car engine block - being dropped on a concrete floor. You sort of felt it before you heard it. At that point they opened up the canister and dug out what was left and determined that they had very definitely ruined a battery-operated fluorescent shop lamp.

Monday Meanderings - 10.21.2013

At California Pizza Kitchen the other evening, two girls were seated in a booth adjacent to our table. They received their meal order, and then after a brief consultation, began trying to get the attention of a server. Any server. As their waving and gesturing became more and more animated, I thought that there must be something seriously wrong with their food order. Soon, Barb and I were looking around for waitstaff as well, and finally someone stopped to see what was so urgently important. After a brief discussion, one of the girls joined the other on the bench seat and the waitress sat down in the other seat... and took their picture!

Barb moved all the plants inside this weekend. They prospered during the summer months and she had to hack them back significantly in order to fit them into their allotted space inside. Even with major trimming, they still sort of overflow the plant stands.

It was time to bring them in - temps were in the low 40's Sunday morning. We also added the blanket to the bed Saturday, and it was needed!

I have seen these before (and perhaps have posted them), but I'm still amused.
Senior Citizen's Text Codes -
* ATD- At the Doctor's
* BFF - Best Friend's Funeral
* BTW- Bring the Wheelchair
* BYOT - Bring Your Own Teeth
* CBM- Covered by Medicare
* CUATSC- See You at the Senior Center
* DWI- Driving While Incontinent
* FWIW - Forgot Where I Was
* GGPBL- Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low
* GHA - Got Heartburn Again
* LMDO- Laughing My Dentures Out
* LOL- Living on Lipitor
* TOT- Texting on Toilet
* WAITT - Who Am I Talking to?
*GGLKI - Gotta Go, Laxative Kicking In!

And speaking of Senior Moments, I was amused when I parked by this van. It occurred to me that this might be a new mobile service being offered."Yes, Sir. You're next. Climb aboard."

Her Highness - Stories from the Tree

If you climb far enough out on your ancestral branches, there's no telling what you will find. I've already reported about being related - somewhat distantly - to Pretty Boy Floyd, and to Bob Will's piano player, but my discovery this past week tops everything.

Barb is descended from royalty. It's the real deal. She may even be in line for the throne of England - behind a few other people, of course.

I have been working her side of the family, and I had established a line from her grandmother Anna Black Wesson, through a line of Bucklers, and then through a line of Allens, which in earlier generations was spelled  Allin, then Alleyn, then Alleyne, then came a bunch of Fitz Alans (who by the way were Earls of Arundel), then who should pop up in the list but William I? That would be William the Conqueror, crowned King of England in 1066! Never mind that he was actually French, illiterate and never spoke English. Oh, and there was that little matter of his momma and daddy not being married. But still, we are talking King here!

But it gets better! If you climb Williams tree eleven more generations you wind up on Charlemagne's doorstep!! Charlemagne Carolingian, Duke of Bavaria, King of the Franks, King of the Lombards, Holy Roman Emperor, born 1 January 747 in Belgium to Pepin the Short and Bertrada of Laon.  And he's Barbs umpteenth great granddaddy! Sweet!

Of course, I'm thinking about how to best benefit from this new-found information, so I'm doing some more research and I found this unsettling fact: If you are of European descent, you, too, are probably a descendant of Charlemagne! Just do the math - about 12 centuries from then to now and if there were only 4 generations per century that's 48 generations and my calculator can't even compute how many people 48 generations would be, but it's safe to say old Charley has a bunch of descendants!

Charlemagne had twenty children over the course of his life with eight of his ten known wives or concubines. Genealogists have shown that fourteen presidents of the United States, including George Washington, Ulysses Grant, Franklin and Teddy Roosevelt, and the Bushes are all descendants of the King of France. Others in that list include the current Queen of England, of course, and notables such as Manfred Albrecht, Freiherr von Richtofen (the Red Baron), Nicholas II Romanov (Tsar of Russia), Bill Gates (Tsar of Microsoft), Ralph Waldo Emerson, Cary Elwes (the Dread Pirate Roberts), Brad Pitt, and Justin Timberlake.

And probably you and me. Oh, and Barb, who has to stop lording it over me now.

Monday Meanderings - 10.14.2013

Delighted to experience a rainy weekend. A very rainy weekend; flash flood watches and everything! It was raining so hard Sunday morning that I dropped Barb off under the portico at church, then after parking the car, dug out the umbrella. Easier said than done - it has been a long, long time since we needed an umbrella.

I finally found it, jammed way up under the seat, only to discover that perhaps it could use a bit of repair. Apart from a few broken ribs, the biggest problem was that it would not click open; if you wanted coverage, you had to hold one end and push up on the little slidy thing and hold it there. A bit awkward, especially if you are trying to carry other objects at the same time. Mind you, I'm not complaining about the rain - just making a statement about the condition of my umbrella.

Halloween is getting closer. You can tell because the incidence of panhandlers wearing masks and freight wigs is increasing. Really, would you be inclined to stop and give a buck to some dude wearing a ghoul mask?

And it's not just the panhandlers; the burglars are also getting into the spirit of the holiday. Like the Austin man who police say broke through the roof of a North Austin convenience store while wearing a wolf-like mask. Police say Michael Todd Jones, 48, used a rope and a metal claw-like hook to gain access through the roof of a Chevron convenience store. Jones was seen on surveillance footage dropping into the store shortly after 1 a.m. and then trying to conceal his face with the mask before removing two cases of scratch-off lottery tickets. Unfortunately for Michael, he is not going to get to go trick-or-treating this year.

Stopped at Mimi's for breakfast the other day and ordered Apple-Bacon-Waffles. I guess I should have paid more attention. They brought me a dish with three dinky little baby waffles, each about the size of a silver dollar!

Really? I'm not complaining (well, yes, I really am) but these suckers were barely enough to hold me until I could get to a place that served real breakfast food, like biscuits and gravy, and a couple of breakfast tacos, and oh, throw in a couple orders of bacon, please. There. That's better.

The case of the always missing car - Stories from the Attic

In our great attic clean-out, we came across several boxes full of keep-sakes - old photos, notes, letters and such. From those, I have mined some blog stories. Here's one about my roommate.
 
Poor Skeeter. It was hardly fair to gang up on him like that. But I should start at the beginning.

I was in the minority when I was in college in that I had a car. I had a job at a radio station on the far side of Abilene, so I needed reliable transportation - thus the car.

One weekend I was to fly to Dallas to do some film work with the Herald of Truth, so I left my car keys with Skeeter, my roommate, so that he could have the benefit of the car while I was gone. However, unknown to Skeet, I left another key with Thayne, who lived next door in the dorm (and later became my brother-in-law). And the stage was set for a very disturbing weekend - for Skeeter.

Wherever the guys went in the car that weekend, it was never found in the place Skeeter left it. If they went to eat, someone moved the car down a block during the meal. Movies? Where's the car? I left it right here! Back at the dorm? Look, it's over there in the other parking lot!

Thayne kept switching co-conspirators to move the car so that Skeeter would not get suspicious that the same person was always missing - and it worked well.

When I got home Sunday evening, Skeet handed me the keys and said, " I don't know where your car is. I left it in front of the dorm, but I know without looking it's not there now. And don't ever lend me your car again." and he walked out.

Just another story that needs to be recorded in the family history.

Monday Meanderings - 10.7.2013

Hello Fall. We have missed you!

We stopped by the post office the other day to mail a package. While I was inside standing in line, Barb waited in the car, where she overheard this conversation from the folks parked next to her:

Man, returning from the line I was still standing in: "They said it would get there in 3 days."

Woman, waiting in car like Barb: "Well, that's shorter than the time you spent in line."

Bees have taken over our hummingbird feeder. So much so that they have chased the hummers away, and they give us pause as well whenever we are on the patio. Barb read that a liberal application of petroleum jelly on the feeder will keep them away, so she greased that sucker up and it looks like that is doing the trick. I'm sort of like Pooh, though. If there are bees, shouldn't there be a bee tree nearby?

And speaking of bees, we drive by a pet supply that advertises "Burt's Bees for dogs." I'm familiar with Burt's Bees lip balm, but I don't think I've ever seen a dog that needed lip balm. Curious.

A telephone salesperson snuck in under the caller-id screen the other day. This was one of those folks that press even harder if you say that you are not interested, so after Barb politely told them "no," and was hanging up the phone she heard the strident seller yelling, "Don't hang up! I know you can still hear me."

Here's proof that bacon is not good for you:

Man injured by half-tonne of falling bacon.
A man was sent to hospital in Gothenburg in western Sweden after being crushed under nearly 600 kilogrammes of bacon. A man who works in a warehouse in the meatpacking area of Gothenburg's historic Gamlestaden district found himself underneath 500 to 600 kilogrammes of bacon after a trolley carrying packages of the thinly-sliced pork toppled over. The man was conscious when he was rushed to Sahlgrenska University Hospital with unspecified injuries following the mishap. Doctors later declared that the man sustained minor back injuries as a result of the accident. 

And let me be the first to tell you that there are only 79 more shopping days till Christmas.

Stories from my Father - Guns

At the age of 93, my father set out to write down by hand some of the things that he remembered over a long and active life. My brother transcribed these recollections, and I share some of them with you now.

One Shot Wonder

When our work was light enough, we farm boys would get together and go rabbit and bird hunting.  On one such time, I was carrying a single shot 22 rifle.  Have forgotten where I got that and what happened to it later.  I was bragging that I did not have to shoot game on the ground because I was a good wing shot.  Of course I was not such a good marksman as I boasted to be.  About then a quail flew up and away.  I drew a bead on it and fired.  The bird tumbled to the ground.  The other boys called it an accident, which it was.  No other birds flew up that day to prove I was a fake.  Some time you get by with a boast. 

 

Soldier’s Bullets

The area in front of our house in Fort Stockton was an open prairie.  However the ground had been disturbed as if it had a previous use.  After a rain we could go out there and find lead bullets.  About 45 caliber, some an inch long and others three-quarters of an inch long.  We suppose the long ones were rifle bullets and the shorter from pistol ammunition.  Beyond question those chunks of lead were from the guns used by the soldiers that were at the Fort when it was activated.  Probably fired in target practice.  History does not record any real battle having taken place that near the fort.  And ammunition of that size would sure be a lethal weapon. 

My First Gun

Every farm boy wants a gun to go rabbit hunting.  I pestered my dead to get me a target rifle.  He made excuses for a few years, knowing I was too young to safely handle a gun.  In a few years I learned that the hardware store in Godley had a second-hand small gauge shot gun for sale.  I had a few dollars from picking cotton for a neighbor.  I bargained for the gun and bought it.  It was called a 44XL gun and used a special ammunition that had a short brass shell extended with a regular fiber shell to hold the charge of shot.  It was the equivalent of a 410 shot gun in performance.  The gun prove to be a very good rabbit and bird gun.  I do not remember what ever became of that gun, but no I had no longer had it when I reached adulthood. 

  

 Dad’s Muzzle Loader

My father had a very long double barrel shotgun that a neighbor friend had given him.  It was a muzzle loader.  I did not have anywhere to purchase shot, powder and caps for a muzzle loader.  I took the powder and shot from regular 12 gauge shotgun shells and, using old rags as wadding, I loaded the old muzzle loader and fired it with regular kitchen matches touched to the tip the percussion cap was supposed to be on.  It kicked like a mule so I did not fire it many times.  I inherited that old gun and passed it on to grandson, Bill Gann, who has an interest an old guns. 

Assaulting The Barn

The center stem of a drinking fountain came into my possession some how.  It was a brass cylinder about 3 inches long and one-half inch diameter with one end rounded like a bullet.  I got the idea it would make a good cannonball for the old muzzle loader I have told about.  I assembled the wadding and powder and proceeded to load old “Long Tom” with that projectile.  Then what to shoot it at? 

The barn looked like a good target.  Couldn't miss it.  I aimed at the hay loft window closure from about 100 yards distance and fired away.  A hole a cat could crawl through appeared in the door.  I went in the barn loft and saw the projectile lodged in a rafter.  It had almost broken the rafter in two.  I never mentioned the experiment to my dad.  He would not have been pleased with the damage to the barn.  I wonder if that old barn is still standing on that farm? Been 75 years since I shot the cannon at it.  That old gun was the kind you mixed salt with the shot to preserve the game you killed until you had time to travel to it.  Now top that one. 

 

The Marksman

Sometime after we were married I bought a single shot 22 caliber small  rifle.  Cora proved to be a better marksman than I.  We were sitting on the front steps shooting at various targets on the fence about 20 feet away.  I stuck a match in a crack in the top of the post and challenged her to strike the match.  She raised the gun and struck the match the first shot.  I said you can't do it again.  She did, with the next shot.  I went on in the house and washed the dishes.