I was given permission to drive the family car between Gravelly and Little Texas, Arkansas, when I was driver permit age. A Ford XL, 1967 era? It looked like the one posted above.
Once I met with a group of cows filling the road. As I gently nosed through them, one cow kicked the rear of the car,leaving a dent.
GrandPa Oscar was very agitated and worried that I had run over a neighbour's cow that he might have to buy. So I did a sketch re-enactment to calm his mind.
Pretty good anatomy on the cow.
4 comments:
Should I say, "Udderly delightful?"
How did you like the big Ford? Was it a 390 or 289? Or, if a '68, maybe a 302? My great grandmother had a fanatastic '67 Galaxie 500 fastback (rare) with the big 390 that she owned from new and only drove maybe 20,000 miles. It was cherry! She died when I was 22--but my grandfather (a certifiable car guy) decided (in a moment of madness) to trade the car TO THE GARDENER for about $500 worth of work (!!!). Ugh, the ignominy of it all...
Hope yours met a better fate, cow dent or no.
289 seems to jog my memory most. I got this one up to a hundred. On two lane asphalt. One of those idiot moments I thankfully survived.
Yeah!
Hey Ellis, how many more anecdotes do you have about Grandpa Oscar. He died when I was around two years old. I don't remember him at all.
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