Trig, you asked for it, you got it.
For those of you who's age starts with a 5 or more you may have to explain some of this to our younger readers. Back in the day we had cars that had balls. No rice burners, just pure American muscle.
My friends all had GTO's, Mach 1's, Chevelle SS, etc. Me, I had a Sin Bin, but that's another story. My mother on the other had a 1972 98 Olds, with a Rocket 455 in it. While it was a boat at over 6000 pounds, when you got it moving it ran.
In 1974 I was 17 years old and living in a small town just east of the VA/WV state line. It was a great place to grow up. You had lots of freedom to move around and go places since you didn't have the big city bad influnces.
On Saturday one of the things to do was go to shooting matches. You really didn't win anything but it didn't cost anything to enter. The other good part of it was there was always free food and you could leave with more ammo than you went in with since they gave it to you to shoot with and didn't ask for the extra back. Hey, ammo is expensive so we had to have something to hunt with.
Anyway, I got home after the match and my mother informed me that I had to take my Grandmother to Princeton, WV to my aunts home. That wasn't a problem. I liked going there, so off we went, shotgun, ammo and all.
So I cruised my way the 45 minutes to Princeton with my Grandmother. It was my Grandmother. I couldn't drive with her like I would with my friends could I? Remember, this was during the era where if I screwed up at your house your mom would bust my ass then call my mom and tell her so I would get it again when I got home. Back then parents didn't believe in double jeopardy and could have cared less about CPS.
My Grandmother had her own form of justice. When it was time to get your ass beat she would give you a knife and send you into the woods to get your own switch for her to beat you with. It never failed that when you got back with it, it was to thin, or to thick, or whatever. It didn't matter, you had to go and get another one. Then you got your ass beat. I drove like a saint to my aunt's house.
When we got there I stayed awhile. She always had good chow and the basketball game on. That night there was a Laker home game on. Because of the time difference halftime came late. I was determined to make it home before the 3rd quarter started.
So off I went. I cleared town and put in a BTO 8 track. That was good driving music and was always good for a few extra MPH on the open road. I was going to make it home for the game.
After a few minutes you get to a hill that is about a 6% grade for about 3 miles. At the bottom was a bridge then it was about a 6% grade up the other side. While mom's car would fly on flat ground, you should have seen it go down hill!
Sitting on a little side road at the bridge, hiding from everybody, was a WV State Trooper. He was out in the middle of nowhere where nobody was going to go. Let's face it, they were eating donuts or something.
I'm sure his eyes lit up when his radar unit went off. I don't know how long it took him to realize I wasn't a false signal or something but I never did see him pull out. In fact I didn't see him for about 20 minutes until he caught up with me and turned on his lights.
For the younger crowd, if you want a car that will run like a raped ape, go find one of the old Plymouth Fury's with the police interceptor package in it.
Back to the story. So at over 100 MPH this cop ran me down. I may not have been the brightest bulb in the string back then, but I was bright enough to know there was no place for me to go. So I stopped.
They seemed to take forever to get out of the car. The driver was the first out and he walked up to my side of the car. His partner kind of hung back. The first cop asked if I was trying to kill myself. I responded, “well when it's my turn to go it doesn't matter if I'm going 1 or 101”. Folks, for future reference, don't ever say that to a cop.
The second cop starts coming up to the car with his flash light looking at things. In the next few seconds I only remember 2 things. The second cop saw my shotgun in the back seat and yelled “gun”, and my face hit the hood of the car.
What I don't remember is is how the first cop got the door open, my seat belt off, got me out of the car, around the really big door on that car and on the hood of the car. Even at that time I was well over 6 feet tall and 200 pounds. So with hand cuffs on, off we went to the squad car and off to jail.
One of the other things I remember is not being able to sit on the back seat. It was really hot. What I later found out is that car would do over 220 but only do it for a few minutes before the rear end comes out.
I don't remember much about getting booked. They were surprised to find out I was only 17 so I got my own cell. Typical gray cell with hall on both sided. Steel bed with no mattress or pillow and an old green army blanket.
Across the isle was the windows. It was the type that had several gray small pane windows with the small reinforcing wires in it. The one on the far right, second row up was broken out, letting the cold February air in.
The guy in the cell next to me must have been drunk. He yelled all night long, not like I could sleep anyway. What I remember about him was he was dreaming about doing Marilyn Monroe. He also did it graphicly which was an education to me as I was still a virgin.
The next morning here came the food. Metal serving tray like we got in school. It has scrambled eggs, an apple, milk and toast. Wasn't that bad but.......
So that one cost me dearly. The fine was $118 plus $11 for breakfast, and the night in jail of course.
Before you ask, yes I got my one phone call. I call my uncle and told him where I was. He said “see you in the morning” and hung up the phone. I forgot the family rule. You got your ass in jail, you can get it out.
BTW, what he did by leaving me there was the best thing he could have ever done. I found out a few days later that I was in trouble and didn't know it yet as I had out run my father. That wouldn't have been such a big deal if he hadn't been in his airplane at the time.
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Comments
and they charged you 11 bucks for THAT breakfast?
harsh treatment I say!
Great story C&L
rated.
Yup, I outran him and he even cheated. I had to go around the curves. He just flew in a straight line.
I was not the type that anyone ever had to worry about doing stupid things that would have to deal with becoming the 3 D's. That being Dead, Durgs, or DAD.
Really the only thing, and I do mean only thing, is the speed that I drove. I've never smoked or even tried drugs. It did however, slow me down. Forever!
My mom had a 67 Mustang, my dad had a 69 parts built Fast back Mustang, and I had a 70 302 boss Mavrick.
In my story though,subtract the shot gun,and add just a little too much beer. Dumb kid!
The horror! How did we ever survive to tell the tells?
Now you need to tell me you are from SW VA down around VA Tech.
Live was better back then wasn't?
Retire? I didn't know anyone in Michigan had a job!
Actually for a while I was the manager of the Pizza Hut in Southgate, MI. I joined the USAF to get the heck out of there.
I don't even know how I got talked into taking the transfer up there to start with.
"back in the days we had cars with balls, no rice burners" See that's your problem. You never gave a damn about pollution or anything else. I have always driven a "rice burner" and I'm proud of it. I have only owned one American car, a Corvair the only decent automobile GM ever built. It was copied from the VW!