Dad had returned from Europe with a new VW, a
shiny red Bug. Wow! A Bug! VW Bugs were taking the USA by storm. This car was
his pride and joy.
 |
| Francis with his dad's red VW Bug. |
On rare occasions he would let me drive it, if I promised to
keep it in showroom condition. My good friend, Paul Evans, was impressed. His
dad had a small Fiat that he would race through “The River Bottoms.” He couldn’t wait to introduce me and the VW to
his favorite racetrack.
Winding
through its curves, adrenalin pumping, tires squealing, was a real rush! As
time went by we were only satisfied with more speed, more G’s, and the feel of
the Bug’s back end sliding out on the curves. We thought we were great drivers!
Dad had asked, “Why are the tires wearing out on the sides?” The Red VW would
become one of his great mortal trials.
The night of BY High’s Homecoming celebration I offered a good friend, Paul Denham, center on our State Championship basketball team, a demo jaunt through the River Bottoms. The excitement was impressive as we leaned into the curves, our hearts pounding, lunging ahead with each shift of the gears. We were on a roll and also totally unaware that down the S-curved road about half a mile a gravel truck had lost its load. We hit the curve and the gravel at top speed. The Bug slid across the road sideways, hit an irrigation ditch and rolled twice into a hay field. Fortunately we were strapped in tight.
The night of BY High’s Homecoming celebration I offered a good friend, Paul Denham, center on our State Championship basketball team, a demo jaunt through the River Bottoms. The excitement was impressive as we leaned into the curves, our hearts pounding, lunging ahead with each shift of the gears. We were on a roll and also totally unaware that down the S-curved road about half a mile a gravel truck had lost its load. We hit the curve and the gravel at top speed. The Bug slid across the road sideways, hit an irrigation ditch and rolled twice into a hay field. Fortunately we were strapped in tight.
We unbuckled, got out of the car, looked
ourselves over for damage, and found none. I couldn’t say as much for Dad’s new
VW. There was hardly a spot on it that wasn’t scratched or dented.
The car started up and we got it back on the road, but as we began the long drive for home we soon discovered that along with other problems the back axle was bent. We bounced along, up and down, up and down. Our top speed was now just 10 miles an hour. We stood around for several hours at the garage where our friend, Paul Evans, worked. It was hard to know where to begin fixing the Bug. We decided it was definitely a job for the professionals.
Climbing the stairs that night at 1:00 in the morning to tell Dad what had happened to his prize import was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. After making sure I was ok, he groaned, “We can fix it, but it will never be the same.”
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