Photo credit: Kent Bonham
In 1968-9, Terry had an old powder-blue VW that I was learning to drive. I had a little trouble with the gear shift-clutch thing.
One evening we were tootling along a back road so I could practice. Only thing was, I didn’t know about the railroad tracks hidden by tall grass, so when he hollered “STOP!” I did–right over the tracks. No help in sight. He pushed and I tried to steer. Finally a pickup truck and two hefty young men showed up. The three men lifted the car off the tracks and onto the road.
Laughing all the way.
(This was an instant flashback in time! It’s amazing to me that he married me anyway 🙂 But then, he couldn’t understand why I was embarrassed and mad as a hornet when all those macho dudes laughed until they cried. Men. No sensitivity at all. I don’t usually comment on my stories here, but this one, I felt, needed a bit more explanation than 100 words allowed 🙂 )