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A Mile of String: A Boy's Recollection of His Midwest Childhood A Mile of String: A Boy's Recollection of His Midwest Childhood by David B. Crawley
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“So I started circling ads for old cars I could afford. I begged my dad to take me out looking at these cars on Saturdays and Sundays. At first I had no luck getting him interested in doing this. It was fall (1961) when he got tired of my haranguing, and one Saturday we set out to look at some of these advertised vehicles. It was a crisp and breezy autumn Saturday with brilliant yellow, orange, and red leaves blowing from the trees in swirls. The first car we looked at was a 1940 Ford Coupe. I thought at the time, and still do, that it was one of the classiest cars in existence. When we pulled up to the house of the owner, we found both garage doors open with the car inside, the hood open, and several greasy teenaged 'mechanics' bent over the engine compartment. The floor of the garage was strewn with various mechanical parts, and the concrete was stained with oil and grease spots. The front end of the car had been lowered, and the back end had been raised. It had a big V-8 engine block which was painted red. The body needed a little work, but a couple of the fenders had gray primer on them and looked like they were ready for paint. The owner was asking $200 for it. It seemed like the perfect car for me, but when I looked at my dad’s face, it appeared he had more than a little skepticism. He started asking the boys picky questions like: 'Does it run?' and 'Do the brakes work?' I had $200 and I was ready to buy, but after hearing the answers to these questions and few more, my dad said, 'I think we need to go home and think about this.”
David B. Crawley, A Mile of String: A Boy's Recollection of His Midwest Childhood
“Mr. Fortin dragged himself out of the tent and followed me to our tent. He stuck his head in the door and made a quick visual assessment of Robert. Robert told Mr. Fortin he was feeling very sick. Mr. Fortin didn’t keep his head in the tent long. He told Robert he would try to see if he could get into Bonner Springs and get Robert some medicine to calm his upset stomach. We heard a car start, some tire spinning, and then the sound of its engine faded as Mr. Fortin ventured bravely down the steep road to the highway below. I went back into the tent and piled dirt over the disgusting mixture on the floor of the tent and held my breath until I was back inside my cocoon.”
David B. Crawley, A Mile of String: A Boy's Recollection of His Midwest Childhood
“Our school bus driver was a middle-aged man named Ray, who might have shaved once a week, probably didn’t bathe that often, and his huge belly rubbed against the steering wheel as he maneuvered the vehicle. Ray had a perpetual scowl on his face and seemed to be in a trance-like state of detachment most of the time. Every once in a while, however, some particularly violent outburst summoned him from his reverie, and he would yell in an extremely loud, gravelly voice, 'SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP.' This was always a bit of a shock to the rioting passengers, but I don’t recall it having much of a calming influence for more than a few seconds. Other than this one phrase, I don’t believe Ray ever said much else to any of us (Page 33).”
David B. Crawley, A Mile of String: A Boy's Recollection of His Midwest Childhood