No man’s land

(Pictures:  Politics and happenings in 1955/56)

(In 1955 our flag had 48 stars)
That is where I felt I was, no man’s land.  First thing, dad says son, report back to school, you are too young to join the military. The next morning found me in Mr. Gerald Cortner’s office. “So the adventure didn’t work out? Let’s see, you have  few hundred hours in detention, I think that is a record.”

(Ike was President)

I asked Sheepishly, “Isn’t that wiped out because I quit school and turned my books?”
“No son, as a matter of fact I have to add about 48 hours more.”  OUCH!  but in my mind I said I am not planning to spend those hours after school. I have a date with the USMC in Raleigh.

(1955, Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus)
Life went back to normal. Everybody got a good laugh, as they should have, at my expense. I bought a split manifold for the 6 cylinder and installed twin Smitties (Loud good sounding mufflers).
Within two days, Officer Burris, stopped me for loud mufflers, after a little conversation, he figured I was a smart-ass and he got in the car and revved it up and let off, to hear it ‘back off’ (or pop ratatat tat real loud). He kept saying that sounds like, $20 then $30, then  $40 each time he would rev it. I thought he was going to throw the bearing out. So I begged him to stop. (To top it all he had pulled me over in front of Jinks McCumbee’s house, dad’s church clerk)

(Miss Lube Rack 1955, Nancy Pelosi)
He was nice and took me to jail for a couple hours until the Judge could see me. I barely had enough for the $35 fine.  “Those mufflers had better come off today!” was the judges last words.  I don’t remember taking them off, but I sure drove around town more carefully.

(That gas price is 23.9¢, around home it was around 25¢ a gallon in 1955)
We were still double dating.  One fateful night It was my turn to drive. After the date we dropped the girls off at their homes and Von Dale needed to go to his sisters house in Paw Creek to pick up something.
  On the way back I made an amateur mistake.  My right front tire dropped off the pavement on a curve and I immediately yanked the steering wheel to the left. and I felt her slide and then start to roll. I remember it well. The convertible top was up, Bill Haley and his comets were singing LOUD, “We are gonna Rock Around the Clock Tonight, Rock…….” And I rolled my beautiful ‘48 Chevy. I felt over where Von Dale had been sitting and he was gone, but my hands slid across something sticky. “Oh NO!” was in my mind, when Von Dale came running up to the car. He was okay, he had went out with the convertible top. The sticky stuff was not blood but touch up paint that I had in the dash.

(When there was a gas war we paid 20¢ a gallon of gas)

I climbed out of the car, we both looked at the car. It was in the ditch but on all four, and the radio was still blasting ‘Rock Around the Clock’, and we had to laugh in relief that we were okay.
Thanks for coming by the log.
Nite Shipslog
PS:
Tomorrow, I lost my license, finally joined the USMC.
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WOW, just across from our coach here in the RV park is this:
It isn’t towed of course, he hauls it in that trailer.

(This is a very unusual car, a Studebaker Avanti)