MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172m)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172m)

What are the odds of something like that happening? We couldn’t decide if she was the waitress that “Panda” had grabbed or was just so incensed that someone had done such an act and was letting the perpetrators know about it. Regardless, we all had had something to eat and another memory to add to our collection. Back at the hotel, “Panda” made a tour of the place looking for more wine but all he found was a mound of empty bottles. It was well after midnight when we all gave up and headed for the stairs. “Wick” and I let the others know we’d be on our way home right after we woke up. I don’t remember the others sharing their plans but we all agreed it had been good to catch up with each other.

I’d suggested to “Wick” that we take the Southern route home. When Elle and I were in college and would head home for the holidays I’d drive her and her roommate back to school. Even though the roads were more congested than the thruway, it was definitely quicker. “Wick” grew up just outside the city and the thruway was right there for him. I told him there were two great places to eat on the way he was all for it. The diner from the night before was open when we drove past it in the morning and “Wick” brought up not having paid the night before. I told him we better not stop and ‘to let sleeping dogs lie…’ Leaving early on a Sunday morning gave us the benefit of not having to fight the normal truck traffic on that road which made it even better. We stopped at the first of the two eateries, a truck stop. It was humongous… it could handle over 100 trucks in the parking area. My father had once told me that truck stops had the best food and we agreed that what had for breakfast was really good. I drove the second part and it was to this other large truck stop called “The Apple”, so named because it was right outside the city limits. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since we’d last eaten I convinced him the food was good enough to eat again. I’ve written about a couple of stops that Elle and I’d made there at least ten or more years earlier and it was exactly the same as back then.

Up to that point we’d spent most of the time talking about the guys from our class in the fraternity who hadn’t shown up for the reunion. There had been 30 of us and we only had 13 who put in an appearance at the hotel and wine tasting party. We tested ourselves trying to name all the others. Then we went to naming all the brothers who were there when we were initiated… and some of the ’tales’ their names elicited. Right from the time “Wick’ had made his first call to me I’d been waiting for him to ‘pitch’ his newly started business to me. Even when I showed up in the parking lot where his office was located he’d not said much about it. But, with a full belly and about three hours more to go he started in as soon as we pulled out onto the highway. I vowed to be patient and to listen. Actually, it was very interesting.

At the time we graduated the process was very different than today. Corporate recruiters would come on campus and interview those who were interested in going into the business world. Those who were headed for medical or law schools didn’t participate but the percentage of us who did was somewhere around 70%. I didn’t because I was going off to race horses but “Wick” did. His father had worked for IBM and that’s where he ended up. After a few years he decided that wasn’t what he wanted so he quit. But, when he went looking for a job had no idea on how to go about it. After thinking about that and talking with some others in the same situation came up with the seed of an idea. Long story short… with some financial aid from his parents he was able to make contact with personnel officers of some large corporations to find out just what it was that they were looking for in not only a resume but in how the applicant presented himself when an interview was granted. He came up with any number of concepts. After culling through them decided on a couple and had materials printed to be used in seminars he would offer (for a fee) on how to get an interview and, eventually, a job. It took a while to get ‘traction’ but when it appeared he was on the right path expanded it and took on a few investors to expand the concept. As we drove through the city he told me he now had three offices and was looking to expand even further. When he himself opened the last one it was so he could find “the right person”… and was hoping that I was the one.

I will give him credit for this… he made a great presentation. It was hard to not want to give it a try when he threw out some of the ’numbers’. It appeared that he’d discovered a niche that no one else had made a concerted effort to try to fill. His plan was to have offices not in all the big cities but to place them in their suburbs where most mid to high level corporate employees lived. The thinking behind that was by running the classes at night those interested could do it without jeopardizing their job positions by taking time off. The target market was the higher paid corporate types who could afford to pay the fees associated with the program. This was in early 1969 and “Wick” was talking about me making upwards of $25,000 a year. Compared to the $10,000 I was making it was an ‘eye opener’. He was still ‘selling’ when we pulled into the parking lot at the site of his office.

It’s hard to say exactly what was going through my mind at that moment. I know I was waiting for “Wick” ‘close’ on the offer but as to how I felt about it is hard to say. Back when I was training the race horses, money was not the primary factor and it hadn’t been when I started my banking career. But a potential increase of $15,000 had me thinking for a few seconds. I mention it as seconds because the next words out of his mouth changed everything. It would only take an investment of $40,000 to get my franchise. I know my lower jaw dropped when I heard that… and I know he saw it. As I sit here typing this I can’t believe I didn’t laugh… but I didn’t. Where he got the idea that I had that kind of money escaped me at the time. I wasn’t expecting anything like that. I’ll admit to being naive and had thought he would ask me to make an investment into his business but the term “franchise” was a relatively new one at that time. As it turned out he was far ahead of the times, but it wasn’t for me. To get out of the situation I told him to send me some information and I’d look at it and get back to him.

Arriving home and walking up the path to the house I saw the back of two female heads sitting on the couch in the den. There was no car other than mine in the driveway so I was puzzled. I made straight for the den and got an answer to the mystery when I saw Maddie, the daughter of the new owner of the house next door. She proceeded to introduce me to her sister-in-law, Martha. Seeing the two of them sitting side by side certainly put Martha in favorable light. Maddie was short and sort of ‘dumpy’ whereas the other woman was slim, and compared to Maddie, relatively attractive. My guess was that they were similar in age but as I was doing my initial assessment of Martha the two women got up to leave. I protested but it didn’t slow them down. As they walked past me on the way to the door I made note of Martha’s very nice, rounded backside and started thinking about what might be on the horizon with Summer almost there.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172l)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172l)

There were two problems for me to overcome… finding a coat and tie… as they were required... but managed to find at least a jacket in the coat room of the library. The venue was the new (to me) athletic center and it was a 150% improvement over what we had while there. The featured classes for reunion had their tables clearly marked so I went looking for “Nels”. Not seeing him I asked a couple of his fraternity brothers where he was. They pointed to the head table and saw him among the various dignitaries who were to be honored. I found out he was on the planning committee for the weekend so he had to be there. That was a blow to my plan and left me trying to find a place to sit and to eat. I ended up next to one of the guys who was in my freshman dorm. Even though we’d never been all that friendly we did resurrect some fond memories of our time in that dorm, not the least of which was when he almost got caught with a girl in his room. There was one main stairway and a fire stairs. When the word was out that the campus cops were in the building the guy hustled the girl into the fire stairwell and headed down the main stairs to cut the ‘cops’ off. The problem with that was she was only partially dressed. No one ever got the whole story and, here it was ten years later and I was finally getting it. I’m sure it was embellished but, in any case, he told me the the girl made her way to the first floor where there was a door to the outside. She had no idea that after opening it and going outside she couldn’t get back in as the door locked when it closed. I remember it was in the Fall of the year and was a sunny day (Elle and I were ‘occupied’  at the same time but we were in the shadows of the library) so it wasn’t like she was freezing to death. In a panic, she climbed in behind the shrubbery that circled the building. He told me he was still inside trying to appease one of the ‘cops’ when the other one walked in the front door with the girl. He said he could hear cheering from out in the quadrangle as the cop told him to find clothes for her. As a result of the incident he said he was put on social probation for the rest of freshman year. Hearing him tell it I wanted to ask just what she actually was wearing but didn’t know him well enough to do it.

The formal part of the affair was over before 10pm. Each featured alumni class had a tent out on the grassy area in front of the student union building where the class parties would continue. I was able to get to “Nels” before he got caught up with the confusion of adjournment to confirm he’d be out there. I must’ve waited almost a half hour before he showed up. I was beginning to worry about getting back to the hotel when he walked up with a mousy looking woman he introduced as his wife. Not trying to be critical but she actually looked like the two of them belonged to each other. He apologized for taking so long explaining that his wife wasn’t feeling well and he had to wait for her. He also went on that he really couldn’t spend any time right then and there and asked if I was coming back for the prayer breakfast in the morning. When I said I’d be on my way home he pulled out a business card. Why I hadn’t thought of it earlier I don’t know. I took a peek at it in the dim light and saw a Texas address and asked him if that’s where he lived. He laughed and told me he lived near Chicago. As we headed for the parking lot I asked if he ever got to the East coast and he said at least two times a year. In a last ditch attempt I asked if we might get together the next time he headed that way. He nodded affirmatively and that was it. I was truly disappointed… and out $30 for a ‘rubber chicken’ dinner that I hadn’t wanted to attend. As I went looking for my fraternity brother, “Oddo”, for what I hoped would be a ride back to the hotel I did think back with a smile on hearing the story of the girl in the dormitory though.

Thankfully, when I connected with “Oddo” his wife was sober. I’d met her earlier so I wasn’t a complete stranger to her and they (she) agreed to drop me off. “Oddo” was one of the guys I’d wanted to talk with but hadn’t had a chance to find out how he ended up being a high school science teacher. He was in no shape to carry on a conversation so his wife got me caught up in just a few minutes. After graduation he’d joined the Marines because he had no idea what he wanted to do. He met her just before his tour was up and they got married right after that. She was a teacher and somehow persuaded him to get the courses necessary to be able to teach and he did. They ended up settling in his hometown and were still there. It was a short but sweet story and was over by the time we arrived back at the hotel.

Whatever the guys did after the wine party had pretty much wound down by the time I made it inside. “Panda” was passed out in an overstuffed chair and "Wick" was trying to talk with “Farley” and “Gip” and they looked looked like they were fighting sleep. “Farley” was an interesting character. His claim to fame was that he didn’t participate an any activities while attending college other than to join the fraternity. I confirmed that fact while putting my notes together for this part by getting out the yearbook and, sure enough, the only thing under his name was the high school he’d graduated from and the name of our fraternity. Since “Wick” and I hadn’t participated in the wine ‘orgy’ during the afternoon we were in pretty good shape so we sat there, keeping them awake, for a while. We were about to go upstairs to face the torture of our beds when “Panda” sprang to life. He was hungry and claimed he hadn’t had anything to eat since we’d all eaten breakfast. The next thing I knew the five of us were headed South hoping the diner we’d eaten at in the morning was still open.

When we arrived it still was but before we went in we told “Panda” that if he harassed any of the waitresses we were going to leave him there. That hour before the diner closed proved to be a lot of fun as we poked fun at each other and some of the other 'brothers'. The owner of the place, a woman about 40 or so, came over to talk with us just before she kicked us out. She asked where we were staying and when we told her about the old hotel she made a comment about how sad it was to see it now. She went on that she’d worked there for about fifteen years before getting the opportunity to take over the diner. Hearing that I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been there when “Panda” pulled his stunt. I wasn’t about to bring it up but “Farley” did. I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard him tell her that we’d once been thrown out of the place. I can vividly remember her talking a step or two back and putting her hands on her hips and saying “You’re all shitting me! I know you are!” And that’s when “Panda” stood up, (the best as he could) and took a bow. It was something only he could do. There was silence for a few seconds before the woman, now deadly serious, told us to get out of her diner, immediately. She didn’t have anything in her hands to threaten us but I swear you could see fire in her eyes as she kept yelling “GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!”. We did, as fast as we could, and were outside when “Wick” told us we hadn’t paid and that he’d go pay the bill. We could hear her scream one more time… “GET OUT!” and then headed North, back to the hotel.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172k)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172k)

Background… To have called it a hotel was, by today’s standards, a misnomer. Trying to equate it to the present I would put it in the category of a large B & B with one difference… it had a large dining room and kitchen. It had, when “Wick” and I were in school, a reputation for putting out good food and almost all the fraternities on campus (15) used the place for all their ‘fancy affairs’. In the late 1800’s a rich, locally born, businessman and his wife built an opera house to support the “arts” in this rural area. To support it he built a small hotel for the people who had to travel some distance to get there. When I say rural I’m talking about a town population of well under 1000. With direct support from this man the opera house remained in some sort of operation until the 1940’s when he died and then was turned into a movie theater. By then, the hotel was there in presence only relying primarily on the dining facilities to keep it going. The rooms were only used when the college that “Wick” and I had attended held major events like ‘Homecoming’ in the Fall; Winter party, Spring fling, graduation and reunion.

Walking up the wooden steps to the front door, both of us looked at each other and kind of ‘blinked’ in disbelief. Even with the poor lighting it was obvious that it was quite run down. There were six somewhat familiar faces seated in the lobby area with a card table with a case of Riunite wine and numerous empty bottles around it. We were warmly greeted and joined right in. “Squirrel’s” roommate, “Pudge” almost crushed my hand when shaking it. I looked around for “Panda” and didn’t see him. Asking about him I got a reply, in chorus, ”room 202”, followed by laughter. I think someone made the comment about some things never changing. That brought a smile to my face as they were referring to “Panda’s” penchant for passing out when he got drunk.

It was a little before 11pm when we arrived and it was around 3am when we made it to our assigned room. I, for one, stood in the doorway not believing my eyes. Spartan doesn’t even begin to describe what we were looking at. Two single beds with mattresses about two inches thick. The blankets were Army surplus complete with markings and a lump of material where a pillow was supposed to be. “Wick” thought it was a joke and immediately went looking for “Gerb” who had arranged the whole thing. I stayed, looking around for a bathroom. There were just four walls with no openings other than the window and door to the hallway. There was what might generously have been called a dresser without some of the handles to pull the drawers out and a small table between the beds with a lamp with only a bulb and no shade. I was thinking of telling “Wick” that I’d rather sleep in the car when he walked back into the room with “Gerb” in tow. He apologized and told us he’d made the arrangements, sight unseen, and had no idea that the place had fallen into foreclosure. He said he had his secretary make the arrangements and apologized again. We really didn’t have much to say as he was footing the bill for us. Before he left the room I asked about “Oddo” and he made a face before saying that he and his wife took one look at the place and headed South to find a motel or real hotel. Hearing that I made a note to talk with “Wick” in the morning about making that a priority.

A combination of the wine and the fact I’d been awake for over 20 hours allowed me to sleep for a while. The bathrooms were down the hall and after taking a look at them in the morning decided to forego a shower. All of us were on our own for breakfast and most of us decided to head South like “Oddo” had done. As I had previously written, almost all of our group in the fraternity had nicknames. “Blivet”, “Farley”, “Sip”, “Fire Plug” rode with “Wick” and I while “Panda”, “Animal”, “Squirrel”, “Pudge” and “Ripples” rode with “Gerb”. We found a diner about 15 miles to the South and took it over. We arrived around 10am and didn’t leave until noon. We pretty much got caught up with each other (wives, kids, jobs) before leaving. The wine tasting party that “Gerb” was hosting was to start out behind the hotel at 1pm so we headed back.

Neither “Wick” nor I were interested in the wine tasting and decided to go take a look at the campus. Neither of us had seen it in over eight years. We hadn’t registered for any of the formal events but not having name tags didn’t deter either of us from wandering around and surveying some of the new buildings. A couple of the older buildings were no longer there and had been replaced with modern ones that didn’t really fit with the architecture we were familiar with. Both of us had been Economic majors and stopped at the new building that housed that discipline to see if any of the professors that we’d had were still there. We knew they wouldn't be present but their names would be on the office doors. The first thing that caught my attention was the lighting. You could actually see the names on the doors. The hallway of old Alumni hall had a ceiling that was at least 15 or more feet high and the lights that had hung from it were way to small. While admiring the new facilities I saw two guys I thought I recognized headed in our direction. One of them, “Nels”, was an Eco major with us. I’d taken a few classes with him but we’d not really ‘connected’ until Spring Fling party in our senior year.

Almost all the fraternities let non members come and go during the three big party weekends. “Nels” stopped in that year just to take a look at our facilities. I was married at that time and was without Elle but was working as a ‘bouncer’ to keep rowdy drunks from doing any damage. I saw “Nels” standing in the doorway arch to the living room and walked up to him to ask if he was OK. He was anything but a ‘live wire’ and more of an introvert so when he pointed to one of the couches my eyes followed in that direction. Lying on the couch was a girl and a guy with the girl on the outside. Her whole backside was visible. I remember wondering how I’d missed it. Lights in the living room were located only around the perimeter so visibility was limited. I started in that direction and was truly surprised that he followed. I couldn’t determine if her panties were white or pale pink… but it didn’t matter. I looked at him and saw a smile… and thus was a friendship started.

We walked up to each other and went through the usual, wife, kids and job  routine but when he told me what he did for a living I almost choked. He was a buyer for J C Penney… in the lingerie department. I don’t really know what my facial reaction to that news was but I knew I had to find a way to talk with him without “Wick”. Thankfully, I didn’t ‘jump’ on that interesting piece of information and stayed calm. When he asked if I was going to the banquet dinner that night I almost told him “No…” but didn’t. I don’t remember just what I told him but as we parted I started thinking of a way to attend. “Wick” and I wandered around a little more and when we got down to the library found a temporary registration table. I stopped and asked if it were possible to get a ticket for the banquet and was told I could… for $30. I asked “Wick” if he was interested and and he shook his head saying he’d been the one who had told “Gerb” he’d come and didn’t feel it fair to abandon him completely. I thought about what he said… for a few seconds… and then told him I’d find a way back to the hotel later.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172j)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172j)

To be sure, I was conflicted. Elle seemed sincere but I still wasn’t ready to take her up on it and told her I’d think about it. Later, while lying in bed, some of the ’tidbits’ “Wick” had fed me about some of the guys who were supposed to be coming back to participate piqued my interest. Most of the guys had nicknames used primarily within the fraternity and hearing some of them again made me wonder just what they’d done with their lives. I knew about some, primarily the three guys who had been in the Air Force ROTC program with me, and how they’d stayed and made it a career. The alumni bulletin had promoted that info so it was general knowledge. But hearing “Wick” say he’d heard that “Oddo” had become a high school teacher and that “Gip” was into data processing was kind of hard to process. By the time I awoke the next morning I was seriously hoping that Elle would be well enough on Wednesday for me to join “Wick’ on what he called his Odyssey back to college. Upon getting up I didn’t say anything to Elle about my thoughts choosing to wait… but the more time passed the more I wanted to go. Truthfully, it was a dead week at work. I spent some time in the cellar on the project Mae and I’d started and attended a Chamber of Commerce meeting to finalize the plans for the annual Township picnic. At home, Elle’s mother told me there were signs of activity at the house next door but, when asked, couldn’t tell me much. I found that somewhat interesting because, in her own neighborhood, she knew everything about everybody. I asked her how she knew and was told that she’d seen a moving van. I wanted to laugh upon hearing that because the only way she could know that was to go though the opening in the hedge that separated the two houses. At least it was something.

On Wednesday morning, when Elle told me she was really feeling better, I wasn’t sure she was saying it because she sensed I wanted to hear it or that she really was. The appointment with the doctor was in the afternoon and included blood work, something Elle absolutely hated. I told her that if she wanted an OK from the doctor to go back to normal living she’d have to do it and headed off for the bank. Not knowing how the blood work was processed I called her just before leaving for him and was disappointed to hear she wouldn’t get the results until the next day, if then. The doctor did tell her that her ‘color’ was back and she thought she could resume some of her normal activities but with one caveat… at least a two hour nap during afternoons. Not getting an ‘all clear’ put some pressure on me as to my decision about going with “Wick” since I’d not given Elle the slightest hint I’d been thinking about it. However, on Thursday morning I called him and told him there was a 50/50 chance I’d go with him. I didn’t go into the details but was again told to just show up at his place of business by 4pm on Friday. You probably won’t believe this but when I hadn’t heard from Elle by 3pm I took a coin out of my pocket and flipped it to make the decision. Heads I’d go… tails I’d stay home… and it was heads. Now, how to broach it to Elle. I based my approach on what Elle had told me back on Sunday night… that it would be good for me to go. Added to that I pointed out her improved energy level and the partial OK to resume her normal day to day activities. I remember making my ‘pitch’ to her and watching a smile start at the corner of her mouth before she hit me with a ‘zinger’… “I wondered when you’d finally tell me…”.

I was actually at “Wick’s” office a little before 4pm. We both knew the trip to the city would be easy at that time of day on a Friday. All the traffic would be headed East for the weekend and we were going West. Our ‘bottleneck’ would be in leaving the city headed North. While in college I’d made the trip from home to school at least two dozen times. It took anywhere from seven to eight hours unless there was a weather related problem or an accident. Leaving from “Wick’s” office would take almost an hour off that time and we projected arriving somewhere around 11pm which would give us adequate time to join in the party we knew would be in full swing. We split the driving with me taking the boring part, the thruway, and “Wick” driving the back and state roads. We never really stopped talking the whole way there. Going through some of the small towns elicited some funny and not so funny incidents involving them. When we drove down the main drag of the college town it looked almost the same as when we’d graduated. The hotel that “Gerb” had booked for the guys was about 5 miles South and as we approached it we both had the same memory of it, almost simultaneously. It had to do with “Panda” and it was at an all fraternity dinner celebrating the initiation of that year’s pledge class. Almost all the guys in our group were ‘characters’ in some way shape or form. “Panda” when drunk, had no inhibitions… at all. We were seated for dinner and the waitresses were pouring water into the glasses at each place setting. One of them squeezed between “Panda” and “Oddo” and when she did “Panda” reached up and under the hem of her skirt and gave her butt a squeeze. Then, all hell broke loose. She took a step back and with her water pitcher filled with water and ice and threw it at “Panda”. She didn’t pour it on him but actually threw the contents of it by reaching her arm back and then thrusting it forward like throwing a ball. We couldn’t remember who was right across the table from where she was but they got pelted with ice and water as well.

As I said, all hell broke loose at that point. The girl started screaming and was trying to hit “Panda” with the pitcher (it was a metal one… plastic hadn’t taken over back then.) “Oddo”, who was right there had also been blasted by water and ice, jumped up and tried to get him arms around her to keep her from hitting “Panda”. When he tried to pull her back and away from “Panda” he tripped and she ended up on top of him. By then, everyone in the room was aware of the skirmish and were trying to get closer to the ‘action’, me included. “Oddo” was on his back and had his arms around the girl just under her breasts and she was still screaming and by then was kicking her legs. (For a voyeur like me it was picture perfect) The manager of the hotel then came into the dining area and started yelling that the police were on their way… and that pretty much ended it… for everything. The police told us all to leave the building and to go back to the college. The president and other officers of the fraternity tried to plead the case that it had only been a couple of guys that were involved but to no avail. We didn’t get our dinner and, worse, we didn’t get our money back either. Needless to say, the news about what had happened spread quickly around the campus and we were all celebrities, of sorts, for a few days. Even though it had only involved a couple of the ‘brothers’, the whole house was put on social probation for the remainder of the semester. What was really humorous about that was that the majority of the brothers weren’t that upset with “Panda” or “Oddo”. After reliving that ‘escapade’ "Wick" and I couldn’t wait to get inside and to catch up with both of them.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172i)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172i)

Elle was asleep on the couch when I got home. The girls, all of them, were quietly playing in the den. I asked Jean about her mother and she said that she’d fallen asleep soon after I left. I asked if they’d had anything to eat and they said they hadn’t and were hungry. I knew they often made their own peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at lunch time on Saturdays and asked why they hadn’t done that. The answer, “because Mommy didn’t say it was OK”, was strange but it did tell me that they were certainly obedient. I asked if they’d like pizza and, unfortunately for Elle, their answer was loud enough to wake her up. She said she’d make supper but the cat was already out of the bag with the option of pizza having been offered. I did feel better about having Elle awake while on the pizza run.

While picking the pizza up I ran into Davo who promptly asked what we were going to do for a motor. Since Cliffy was the ‘lead’ person for the whole crew I didn’t want to say anything about the ‘deal’ we were working on to him. He did ask if we were going to at least attend the races the next night since it was a special show with some ‘out of towners’ (racers from other tracks) expected. I told him I wasn’t going and that I hadn’t talked to the others. Always one to throw out a ‘jab’ he closed with the statement “Three in 24 hours! That’s really something to be famous for!”, meaning Cliffy having blown up the three motors in 24 hours the weekend before.

I honestly think the older girls enjoyed the pizza, a rare treat for them, more than the cake and ice cream at the party. Once they were off to bed I had the chance to talk with Elle about how she thought the whole affair had gone. I just knew she’d have something to say about “Goldie” and she did by asking just what her role was in the act. Neither of us could come up with an answer. She was certainly different, dressed as she was but I had expected Elle to comment on her general looks. She didn’t, probably because she didn’t feel all that well but I spent some time lying in bed that night visualizing her in outfit as well as those strange colored bikini panties I’d seen.

When Elle seemed not to have recovered by noon on Sunday I had her call her doctor. Because the doctor was a personal friend of my mother she was told to head for the hospital where she’d meet her and authorize a blood transfusion for her anemia. The doctor had suggested it when she’d seen Elle during the week but with Elle’s fear of needles she’d managed to talk her way out of it. We took the girls to her mother's house and then headed East to the hospital. I honestly felt that Elle would feign feeling better to avoid the transfusion but she had reached the point where reality takes over. When the doctor told her she was putting the baby at risk if she didn’t it got her attention. I got a chance to talk with the doctor who told me Elle needed a couple of days of complete rest on top of the new blood. I knew Elle wouldn’t like that.

Back at her mother’s house to pick up the girls I got to see Paula again. She’d won over Elle’s mother enough to get limited kitchen privileges and even though she usually spent the weekends with her parents had come back early with some of her food ‘goodies’, as she called them. Elle, her mother and I came up with a plan for the upcoming week to give Elle the rest she needed. Her mother would give up her card games for a few days and would baby sit Kaye as well as do the cooking for supper each night. Elle was to return to the doctor on Wednesday to reassess her health at that time and we’d decide where to go from there.

Walking up the path to our patio I saw lights on in the house next door. I’d been told the new neighbors would  be coming sometime around Memorial Day but I’d forgotten about it. I pointed it out to Elle and I remember her comment about them only being there for the Summer. We’d both hoped for year-round neighbors. Elle always had ‘contingency plans’ for feeding us when something unexpected happened. She told me to get her own version of TV dinners from the freezer and to warm them up for supper. Even though there really was nothing to doing it I was always uneasy working in the kitchen. It was still daylight by the time I finished cleaning up. The older girls had homework to do and Kaye was told to babysit her mother who had taken up residence on the couch. I went outside to take a peek through the hedge that separated the two houses. There really wasn’t anything to see. There were some cardboard boxes stacked on the new patio that Jonesie, the ‘jack of all’ tradesman had had poured for them but there was no signs of life. I’d not had any contact with anyone from the family after the tree had fallen on the house during the Winter. I was hard pressed to remember just what I’d been told about them and just who would be spending the Summer there. I figured it would all come to light soon enough.

The girls were all in bed and Elle was preparing herself when the phone rang. It was after 9pm which concerned me a bit. It it turned out to be my college roommate, “Wick”, calling to see if I’d had a change of heart about joining him on a quick trip back to the college for our 10th reunion. I’d previously told him a hesitatingly ambiguous “no” and he was calling to tell me that he’d persuaded a couple more of our fraternity brothers to make the trek. One had been a close friend that had dropped out of sight after graduation. Not that I made any effort to keep up with they guys but “Panda” had seemed to have disappeared completely. “Wick” had made a couple of attempts, through the college, to ‘find’ him but they couldn’t help. Once he resurfaced and word got out a couple more of the old “cellar dwellers” agreed to come. I sat there listening to him and all of a sudden had a real desire to go… but reality, in the form of Elle, called to me. I told him I was really tempted and wanted to but that Elle wasn’t doing well with her pregnancy. He knew her and on a couple of party weekends his ex wife and Elle had roomed together so he closed by saying he wasn’t leaving until 4pm Friday afternoon. I sat by the phone for a minute or two before Elle called to me again and I headed up the stairs.

By then it was only a little almost 9:30pm but Elle was ready to go to sleep. I knew she wanted a good night kiss but also wanted to know who I was talking to on the phone for so long. I don’t know why I hesitated but she picked up on it. I can still picture her sitting up and resting on her arm and elbow and almost demanding to know. Knowing how ‘drained’ she was I wasn’t expecting that reaction. I figured I might as well tell her… and she surprised me when she said if she felt better by Wednesday that I should go. It didn’t immediately register with me and she repeated it. I told her I couldn’t with both her and the baby’s health in question. Still resting on her arm she said she’d be honest with me after seeing the doctor. She said she thought it would do me good to get away even if it was for only a few days… and repeated that she’d tell me the truth.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172h)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172h)

On the short trip to the house I found out the magician’s name was Marcus and his ‘stage’ name was Magic Marcus. The woman's name was Melody and was his assistant but, for his act was known as “Goldie”. I thought it was because of her blond hair but I was to find out a short time later it wasn’t. I can tell you this… I knew Elle would be in total shock when she saw her. Elle and I had decided to surprise Jean and hadn’t told her about the magician coming so as soon as I pulled into the driveway Elle herded the kids upstairs to Jean’s room. Jean had won a prize for one of her projects and we’d had it framed as a present and the ruse was to give it to her and to pick a place to hang it. I’d cleaned off the ping pong table in the basement figuring the magician could use it to get his props in order. We had a couple of old chairs for Elle and I to use when supervising the kids so at least they had someplace to sit while waiting. As I led them down the stairs I explained the situation and apologized for the awkwardness of it. Marcus was gracious but did ask if we could provide them with a bite to eat while waiting. I don’t think “Goldie” said anything until I went to go back upstairs when she asked about a bathroom. I’d not given any thought to that when deciding to ‘hide’ them in the basement. I thought a quick trip to the second floor to tell Elle to stall the kids for a few more minutes would take care of that but upon my return she said she’d need the bathroom to get ready for the performance. All I could think of was “what next?” After they both availed themselves of the facilities I called them together to come up with an operating plan. I prevailed upon them to do all their preparation while still in the basement explaining how important the surprise aspect of their appearance was. Marcus was very understanding but “Goldie” was definitely a “prima donna”. When I had to go upstairs Marcus assured me he’d take care of “Goldie”

The guests started to arrive a little before 1pm. Just picture about a dozen nine to eleven year old girls together. Elle had decided to have Jean open her gifts before anything else which served to keep the group fairly occupied. While that was going on I brought the props Marcus wanted to use up into the dining room. Marcus didn’t have to do anything more as far as dressing than to put on what I’d call a two tail formal jacket and a top hat. “Goldie” was making a bit of a scene about needing privacy to get ready. Being an old farm house there was a section of the basement partitioned off that had been a root cellar with a dirt floor to keep vegetables both cool and damp. I’d not used it at all and the dirt was hard and dry. I told her I would put an old piece of carpet down and that seemed to calm her down. However, I had no idea what her costume would look like as I headed back to see how the party was going.

I could see Elle was fading and called me over to say she needed a break and that it would be a good time for the show. I’d put up a rope across the opening into the den with the idea being to have it hold a couple of blankets to act as a curtain. While Elle was building up the ’suspense’ as to what would be coming I moved the props into the den and then put up the blankets. When I was ready Elle told all the girls to cover their eyes and I opened the door to the basement. Marcus was right there waiting for me but there was no sign of “Goldie”. Marcus had some props as he pushed his way through the blankets. I asked about “Goldie” and I remember him looking at me with a bit of a smile. He gave me a card to read as his introduction and I then opened up the blankets and told the kids to open their eyes.. As expected, some already had. I started reading the card and glanced up to see this… I really don’t know how to describe it… “thing” making its way through the kids on the floor. Everyone turned to look and I knew it was “Goldie” but had no idea what she was supposed to represent. She never said a word as she made her way to where Marcus and I were located. I wanted to ask what she represented but Marcus was already playing to the kids. I stood there looking at her draped in this gold material and wearing on her head what best looked like a an enlarged caterpillar’s head and a gold body suit. I took a look at her feet and saw gold slippers. That prompted me to take a look at Elle who was standing towards the back of the room and the look on her face was priceless. The kids faces ranged from disbelief to laughing. With an entrance like that I wasn’t sure I wanted to see any more.

If I were to rate the skill of Magic Marcus it would be about a C+… for the kids. For adults… a D, at best. What he was good at was keeping the kids engaged. A couple of the kids who’d seen a magician before made a couple of requests and Marcus asked me to go to the basement to find the props needed to do them. As I said, he’d laid out all his things on the ping pong table and told me where to find them. Approaching the table I saw the clothes that “Goldie” had been wearing draped over some of the props. Not seeing what Marcus had described I picked the clothes up and lying there was a black bra and a pair of strange colored panties. I definitely wanted to look at the panties but had my hands full with her coat and dress. I also had to find the props I’d been sent to find. Talk about a challenge!

I spied one of the needed props and put the clothes down and grabbed it figuring to take it to Marcus and then returning to get the other and… well, you know where this is going. The panties were by Vanity Fair and were bikinis. The color, as I found out much much later, was mauve. I’d never seen it before and, until I saw a tag on a pair in a lingerie department years later, had never heard of it. In any case, it was a bright spot in a long, tedious day.  Earlier, I’d wondered about how Marcus was to get back to the city after he finished up with us since the last train headed West towards the city was around 2pm. While Elle was serving the cake and ice cream I got around to asking about it. When Marcus told me he thought trains ran all day I just shook my head.

About the last thing I wanted to do that day was to drive Marcus and “Goldie” to the nearest train station that had trains running to the city until 7pm, about 40 miles and an hour away… but I did. He’d been a big success with the kids and Jean was in all her glory since it had been her party. Elle was a walking zombie, she was so tired. When I left the house with Marcus and “Goldie” I told Jean and Anne that they had to take care of Elle while I was gone explaining that with her carrying the baby it made her really tired. To make my point I pointed out that Magic Marcus had been her idea and the best way to say “thank you” was to do any and everything she asked them to do. I got a very serious positive nod from them both… and then I was off. It was a quiet trip to the train station and by the time we got there I was glad that Elle had arranged for Marcus. Jean had loved the attention and her guests were absolutely ’taken’ with the magic. For $100, it was well worth it. It was certainly a birthday to remember.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172g)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172g)

I don’t remember the exact words I spoke but they were to get everybody on “the same page’. It was along the lines of “Is it a go or not?” Cliffy picked up on it and sort of repeated it. Dick spoke up with a bit of hesitation but answered “Yes…”. That left Alan (Buster didn’t count at this point) and I had some doubt about his willingness before he finally nodded in a positive manner. From my conversation with Neil I knew it was going to be ‘process’ moving forward and passed on some of the things he’d told me. As I had mentioned, Cliffy had done some research during the day and one of the things he did was to contact the parts manager of the local Chevrolet dealer. He backed up what I’d been told about parts availability for the 427ci Chevy engine and that it would probably take two to three weeks to finally have a finished engine. I pretty much became a listener until Cliffy turned to me and said he needed to talk with Neil to see how to proceed.  The way we left it that night was that I told him I’d call Neil and let him know when I did and then he go on from there.

Back in part 172e I gave you a hint of what was to come. I’m not going to go over the trials and tribulations of not only the collection of all the parts for the engine but of putting it together. I made the call to Neil the day before Memorial Day and we finally started the brand new motor for the first time the fourth week of June. You do the math.  There were fights, arguments and a lot of doubts expressed during this time. The only detail I’ll go into on the motor had to do with the cylinder heads. In part 172e I mentioned that General Motors had been slowly creating more high performance options. One of them was to introduce aluminum cylinder heads. It wasn’t to increase power but was to reduce the weight of the motor. In racing, weight is a major factor. The less the car weigh the more efficient the power becomes. If you’ve been reading this for a period of time you might remember a part time pit crew member, Robob. He’s the one who arranged for us to have free racing oil the previous season. I arrived at the shop one night to find him there with the other guys gathered around him. I got there to hear him say that he could get us a set of the aluminum heads but the only catch to it was someone would have to go to Buffalo, NY, to get them. Not wanting to ‘break the spell’ that Robob had over the group I didn’t ask for any details… like how much they would cost and, to this day I still don’t have the details of how that all came about. The most important thing for our team ended up being that we never had to pay for them. I guess you could say it was a case of ‘hear no evil and speak no evil’. To actually get the heads I was able to get my friend “Big B”  to pick them up for us. He was an over the road salesman who actually covered as far West as Buffalo. In the end, getting those heads saved us the amount of money it looked like we’d be short. The only other thing I found out about them was that they came from Canada. Now back to the real world outside of racing…

When Elle was still lethargic the next morning I told her to go to her doctor. With the parade and party the next day she wasn’t in any shape to handle either. I wasn’t worried about the parade. It was Jean’s party that concerned me. One of those concerns was the magician who was coming from the city to perform. I really hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he was arriving on the noon train other than I’d have to go pick him up. But, lying in bed that morning while waiting for the alarm it suddenly came to me… how was he going to get back to the city since the last train left around 2pm. It was too late to make any change so I put the thought behind me and headed for work.

Truthfully, after talking with Neil and Cliffy that morning, most of my thoughts for the rest of the day were about the race car. One interesting thing that transpired that day was in getting an apology from Bert, the president, about the way I’d been treated by some of the Trustees prior to the Mortgage committee meeting the previous day. It was appreciated but left me wondering how some of the day to day business of the bank was being communicated to the Trustees. I didn’t dwell on it though. Being a three day weekend I made the decision to let all the first floor staff leave as soon as the tellers were ‘in proof’ with all their cash counted and accounted for. That got them out a little after 4pm. I’d waited to call Cliffy until then to find out how things went with Neil. He was non-committal but said “Things were in the works”. I felt good that I was no longer the ‘lead’ on the project and that Cliffy had it. The next call was to Elle and was told that the doctor said that her malady had to do with her anemia and gave her a shot of something or other. That made me feel a lot better. When I told her I was on the way home I could actually hear her voice get a little life to it, a good sign. During supper we got a call from my mother to say she didn’t feel up to it to attend Jean’s party the next day. She asked if we could drive to the house so she could explain to Jean about her ’shopping spree’ birthday present feeling she couldn’t do it justice over the phone. When Elle told me I rolled my eyes and when I did she reminded me that she was my mother. Although it screwed up a perfectly good evening we did as she requested and, in leaving, knew it had been the right thing to do.

When we woke up Memorial Day morning (also Jean’s birthday) we were greeted with a cool, overcast day, not really a good one for a parade. We had some small presents for Jean to open at breakfast. Elle was to be at the staging area for the parade at 9:30am and when I went out to load the station wagon with the big 4H banner for her group found it was raining lightly. We hadn’t checked with my father (the amateur weather man) when we were at the house the night before and was sorry we hadn’t. I called him and was told it would get worse as the morning wore on. Elle had to make the decision to participate or not and called the other two mothers to get a consensus. It was a unanimous “no” which was OK by Elle giving her more time to get ready for the birthday party. While helping her I pressed her on more information on the magician. She’d gotten his name from Phyllis when participating in the PTA play but other than a good recommendation from her, had nothing more on him.

The birthday party was scheduled for 1:30 pm and he was to arrive on the noon train. As I waited for it to arrive I wondered what he was to do with himself until it was time for him to perform. It took a few minutes to figure out just who I was to pick up but a small black trunk gave me a hint. Walking up to the man I saw a tall woman with dyed blond hair and too much make-up standing near him. When I identified myself he introduced her as his assistant. Another surprise! I pointed to the station wagon and sort of followed them towards it. For some reason, in my mind they just didn’t go together. The man insisted the woman sit in front and as I watched her get in I had my eyes glued to the seat. She sat down with both feet still on the ground before swiveling her bottom to lift her legs, one at a time, into the vehicle. It was a totally unexpected treat.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172f)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172f)

Elle was still not herself in the morning but insisted that she was OK. However, she asked that I make breakfast for the kids and make sure the two older ones made it onto the school bus. I had a busy day ahead of me at the bank as Hobie was taking the day off and I had to be the acting secretary for the mortgage committee meeting that afternoon. Before leaving I asked again if there was anything wrong and she told me to be on my way. At work, I was just opening my Day Timer for the day when the phone rang. It was Lynda and I could tell she was upset. She wanted to know why I didn’t come on into her house the previous afternoon and meet her mother. It was not what I wanted or needed to start my day. I’d wanted to thank her for connecting me up with Neil and now I was defending myself. It took a little explaining but I finally got my point across that I just didn’t feel it would have been appropriate. I was able to get my “thanks” in and I ended up making her a promise that once the parts for the new motor started arriving at the dealership I’d stop in. By the time I was off the phone the doors were open and I had customers waiting for me.

I called Elle around noon time but got no answer. I was concerned but not worried. Between planning for marching in the Memorial Day parade with her 4H group and Jean’s birthday I knew she had her hands full. Because Hobie had been around for the past few months to handle the secretary’s duties I was a little nervous when I walked in to the meeting. I knew Polack Joe would be there so was prepared for possible ‘jibes’ from him but I was not prepared for the lawyer/Trustee from the area where the branch was located. I’d been pleased with the branch performance since the move had been made to put Betsy and Mae together and to reduce Jerry’s role. Between Bret and I we’d made contact with one or the other of them on a daily basis. Jerry had been pretty much adhering to the limitations that had been placed on him so when I was ‘attacked’ by this Trustee I was totally unprepared. Somehow Jerry had ‘caught his ear’ and had complained about being nothing more than a glorified new accounts clerk. I had no idea how that whole matter had been handled by senior management with the Trustees so I really had nothing to say to him. I’d worked well with the man on the planned new branch matters so I looked pretty dumb by not answering his questions. Of course, other Trustees heard his questions and added some of their own. Truthfully, I was trying to protect Hobie by not speaking to them. By the time Bert and J J walked in I was wringing wet with perspiration. After the meeting ended I headed for home not wanting to be accosted by any more of the Trustees. Plus, I was concerned about Elle.

I’d been right about where Elle had been when I called. Never one to wait until the last minute for just about anything, she’d been shopping for Jean’s party and lining up some mothers to walk in the parade with her. There was one thing that was lingering in the back of my mind and that was the magician that she told me she’d hired as entertainment. I’d not questioned her when she first mentioned it but with the birthday just a day and a half away I wanted to know what was entailed to make it work. I wasn’t happy when she couldn’t give me much in the way of details other than it was going to cost $100 and would be arriving from the city on the noon train. Not a lot to go on but I couldn’t say much as we’d both agreed that we wanted something special for the party.

I was a little nervous on my way to the garage that night. Other than to tell the others of my meeting with Neil and the handshake promise of $1,000 there wasn’t much I could tell them. When I’d told Cliffy about the ‘deal’ he’d been less than enthusiastic about it and, with the need for more money from the others, I wasn’t sure what their reaction would be. I got there early and, as I expected, Cliffy was waiting for me. It was obvious he’d done some research on the 427 ci Chevy engine because his greeting to me was something along the lines of “This isn’t going to be easy.” He’d talked with “Seeg”, C J’s father to find out what they’d done when they switched from Ford to Chevy and it was a clear example of what you can get when you have money. There was a place in New Jersey that did nothing but build racing motors… and they went there. I asked Cliffy if’d asked how much it cost and Cliffy just rolled his eyes. We waited for the others to get there and then I told them what I’d told Cliffy about how much money (credit) we’d get and combined with the money we already had we’d still need about $500 more. Dick just looked down at the floor while Alan shook his head. Not liking what I was seeing I spoke up to say if they couldn’t come up with the money I thought it was time to put the car up for sale.

That got an immediate reaction. I knew Cliffy wanted to race more than anything else and I also knew that he and Dick were in ‘lock step’ with each other. I saw them look at each other and heard Dick say, hesitatingly, that he had a piece of farm equipment he thought he could sell. Cliffy followed suit saying he could probably borrow some money from his father-in-law. That left Alan and Buster. I knew Buster wouldn’t offer anything as he still owed money from before the season started. I waited to see if Alan would speak up before offering anything myself. It was Cliffy that ‘pushed the button’ when he asked him if he was going to do anything with the intake manifold for his car. As I’ve mentioned, Alan and I would sometimes race on the way home from the garage after we finished working on the car. It galled him that I, with a little 327 ci Chevy engine, could beat him and his Ford with a 389 ci engine. The reason was because Alan’s car had but a two barrel carburetor and I had a four barrel. Alan had traded something with a guy he worked with to get a four barrel intake manifold that fit his motor but didn’t have the money for a four barrel carburetor. Cliffy told him he could get between $50 and $60 for it. I was looking at Alan when Cliffy told him and I could see his ‘pain’, but he nodded in agreement. Cliffy got a pencil and started tallying up what each was able to put up. Cliffy was the first to come up with an amount… $150. I followed with the same and we both looked at Dick. He hesitated but when Cliffy started to say something to him I remember him putting up his hand and agreeing to the same amount. With Alan’s $50 we had the $500. But, when I’d been speaking with Neil I was guessing about the amount of cash we still had left from our opening night winnings. So, I asked Cliffy. He said he didn’t know but it was somewhere around $450 which was less than I’d figured. With the $200 that Cliff from the restaurant had promised but still hadn’t given us we were still about $100 short. I didn’t say anything but made the decision in my mind to cover it. I wanted to go racing!

To be continued...

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172e)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172e)

I let Lynda’s phone ring about a dozen times before giving up. It wasn’t quite 6pm and I knew if she stayed just a little late she’d be in traffic the whole way home so chalked it up to that. Neil was headed back into the office as I was headed out. I’d told him I needed to get with Cliffy as he’d be the ‘contact person’ as far as getting all the parts for the motor together. It’s at this point I’ve got to interject the fact that I knew little to nothing about the Chevrolet, “big block” 427 cubic inch engine. So, when Neil told me it would take some time to “put all the pieces together” I didn’t know what he meant. The previous Fall Alan and I had taken our 428 ci Ford engine apart and put it back together in a matter of a couple of nights. It was here that I got my first lesson on the “big block” Chevy engine. If this were a blog about engines I’d be able to write at least three posts on what it was like but I’ll give you the short version (say “Thank you…”)

Neil wasn’t fully up to speed on them as the car he was involved with used a “small block” 327 ci Chevy engine. Parts for them were available everywhere parts were sold and not just from a Chevy dealer. However… and it was a BIG, however, General Motors kept pretty close control of all aspects of the 427 ci engine. It was introduced in 1966 and was only available in certain model Chevrolet cars and trucks. GM also was into auto racing and made the engine available to a limited number of teams. That meant that parts for it were not available at all dealerships. In 1967 GM made the motor more available and with certain high performance options. Racers who had money were able to get them. By the end of the racing season that year after market manufacturers got involved and the ‘gold rush was on’ to build the biggest, baddest motor that could be built. Engine blocks were also more available with racers staking out junk yards to get the motors out of wrecked Chevy’s. In 1968 most of the faster race cars were sporting the 427 Chevy engine. But, GM was still in control and had limited the parts for them to be handled by what they called “High Performance Dealerships”, the ones who were selling the high performance cars with the factory installed “big block” engines. Smaller dealerships like the one Lynda’s father-in-law owned didn’t carry the parts for them and they had to be special ordered or, if they were lucky could find a “High Performance Dealership” with parts on hand. If you’re confused, don’t worry about it. I put that in to give some background on the trials and tribulations Cliffy, I and the team were about to go through. So, after Neil quickly went over the above with me I had an idea of what he’d meant by “putting all the pieces together” meant. He told me to tell Cliffy to get a complete parts list for the engine (right down to the smallest of clips and clamps) so that as they became available he’d have an idea where he was in the process. I stood there wondering if I hadn’t created a bigger problem than we already had… and I hadn’t told Cliffy that we’d need the money he had on hand to get started. From the “high” of picturing us back racing I’d dropped back to a low of wondering if we could collect all the pieces we’d need what with their scarcity.

Since I was already in the town where Lynda lived I decided to drive by her house on the chance that she’d arrived home. She was but as I pulled into the driveway I saw an older woman walking up to her door. I’d already pulled in when I saw her and felt it wouldn’t look too good if I just went and backed out… so I stopped and got out. The woman was her mother who’d come to spend the week. It was kind of awkward because I couldn’t do or say what I’d wanted to. To get out of a bad situation I made some reference to the brokerage office and that I’d get back to her after reading the materials Stan (her boss) had given me. I was able to give her a ‘thumbs up’ to let her know I’d had a positive meeting with Neil before getting back in my car and driving off.

My supper ended up being eaten at a McDonalds that had just opened in that village. While eating I tried to figure out just how long it would take to track down all the various pieces we’d need to put the motor together and when we might be on the racetrack again. Being that it was after 6pm I was sure Cliffy would be home so got some change and went to the pay phone (remember them?). He was eating supper and seemed a bit annoyed that I’d called at that moment. I didn’t want to be too upbeat with the news so moderated my excitement by saying something like “It looks like we’re going racing again…” and then waited for a reaction. Instead of a big “Hooray!” I got a dull sounding “How?”. In looking back on it all these many years later I can understand why he wasn’t jumping up and down and screaming with joy. In his career he’d been promised any number of sponsorships and the few that came through were always less than what had been discussed. He was thinking “Here we go again…”. I told him what I’d been able to get from Neil and he kind of snorted. Not wanting his reaction to control the situation I interrupted him telling we’d be able to buy all the parts at the dealerships cost. That slowed his negativity down a notch or two. He knew what the mark-ups were on parts from a dealership so that was a plus. I knew I had to let him know we’d need more money but even though I was carrying the thought in my mind that I’d cover it told him the rest of us would need to come up with about $500. I actually heard him sigh and, knowing him as well as I did, thought it might’ve been the end of the conversation… but it wasn’t. I’d run out of coins and I could hear Beth yelling at him in the background so told him I’d see him the next night. He said OK and that he’d call the other members of the team to be there as well. Just as the phone was about to go dead I told him to get a complete parts list for the Chevy 427 ci motor.

Elle was still passive when I got home. It wasn’t like her at all. When she was mad she’d let me know about it. I knew I deserved at least a little of her wrath but all I was getting was indifference. I asked where the kids were and she pointed to the basement. She’d been lying on the sofa but without the TV on. Not that she was a TV fanatic but she did like to watch the news. I asked if she was OK and, as I expected, she answered that she was. I backed off my questions and headed to the basement to play with the kids. Once there I asked the two older girls if they thought their mother was OK. Anne piped up that she was fine but Jean shook her head. I asked why and she said she didn’t know but she “wasn’t being mommy”. That got me to thinking about her pregnancy. She was about four months into it and other than a little bigger waist line no one wold have known by looking at her. She’d not had any morning sickness and the only thing the two of us had noticed was that her incontinence was worse. The only thing I felt I could do was to keep a closer eye on her.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172d)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172d)

What made the meeting so incredible was that my father had bought Neil’s race car back in 1958 for my brother. When I decided to start my harness racing career I gave my race car and all that went with it over to my brother. The last year I’d owned the car(s) had been a disaster totally wrecking two cars (I wrote about it in earlier posts). When Cliff, the driver, found out that Neil was looking to sell his car without the motor he told my brother. He didn’t have any money so my father jumped in and bought it for him (which pissed me off to no end because I had to buy everything for the car(s) myself.) Cliff stumbled on to sponsorship money to pay for running the car during the season and ended up coming up a lap and half short of winning the championship with it (flat tire). So, for the first ten minutes we reminisced about that. Then it was on to Cliffy and our race car.

Neil recognized Cliffy’s name from way back when the local track was built in the early 50's because Cliffy’s father won a couple of track championships as an owner. I tried to be as brief and to the point as I could but Neil would ‘drift off’ and start talking about himself as a racer. It took about a half hour before we got down to just what Neil was looking for from us. Putting it as simply as I can, he’d gotten the racing bug with his brother after WWII and when he sold his race car to my father he thought he was through… but he wasn’t. He told me he recognized that he wasn’t a very good driver (I already knew that) but he still wanted to be involved. He’d put up money for some of the local drivers from time to time (think of Fairlane John with our team) but still wasn’t satisfied. He’d hired a young guy who’d just finished his service time at the local Air Force base to work in his used car lot. The kid convinced him he’d driven race cars back when he was a teen and Neil gave him some money and hooked him upon with some guys who worked at the local Chevrolet dealership. They put a car on the track using a six cylinder motor and ended up winning a lot of races but it wasn't in the top division. Like a lot of young guys, he thought he was capable of “blowing the doors off“ the top cars and had convinced Neil to continue to back him. But, by then Neil had gone into partnership with Lynda’s father-in-law to sell his dealership’s used cars. Neil’s son and Lynda’s husband were good friends and because of that the dealership put some money into the car as well. As I mentioned earlier, Lynda had told me the driver was a “wreck magnet” and how Neil was trying to find a young driver who was capable of winning. The problem was that he’d already given the ‘hot shot’ money and since he didn’t own the car, couldn’t fire him. At this point he hadn’t offered anything and I’d spent about 45 minutes with him and still didn’t know where the meeting was going. So told him I really needed to be going. That got his attention.

When he finally stopped talking about what he’d done and was presently doing he mentioned Lynda’s name and how she’d called him to set up the meeting. He added that he thought she was “a real sweet girl” and was one of his “favorite people”. With all he’d previously said about how monetarily involved he presently was I was sure there was nothing in it for me. But, he went on and said she’d asked him if there wasn’t something he could do to help me out… and he asked what I needed. I’d not heard anything she’d said to him on the phone the previous day so I just blurted out “a motor”, and that was all. I didn’t think he heard me because he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

I don’t want to bore you with the ’nitty gritty’ of what we discussed so will ‘cut to the quick’. After his initial shock after hearing my request he kind of stalled a bit. I don’t know just exactly what I said… something about any kind of help would be appreciated… and that’s when he finally responded in a positive way towards me. At first he said he could get discounts on engine parts through the dealership… which would be good if we had money to start with… and then he asked what I remember as only his second true question… how much cash did we have. I wasn’t prepared for that and, since Cliffy handled all the money, didn’t really know but I knew I had to give him an answer to keep him interested. I was pretty sure we hadn’t used much of our opening night winnings and I still had to get $200 from Cliff at the restaurant so I threw out a figure of $750. Without a change of expression he commented that it wouldn’t take us very far. I had no idea what putting a Chevrolet motor together would cost. I did know, based on comments from others including “Seeg”, C J’s father and Cliffy’s father, that it would be a lot less than building a Ford motor. Our experience with C J’s cylinder heads the previous year was certainly an eye opener for me. Two Chevy heads cost the same as one Ford head. I sat there waiting for him to tell me he really couldn’t help but then leaning forward and saying he could probably afford to give us $1,000. I almost jumped out of my seat. It wasn’t what I’d gone there hoping for but, realistically, it was probably way more that I could’ve expected from someone I didn’t know at all. My body language spoke louder than words. Before I could say anything he was on the phone. I sat there listening to him talk to what were obviously people involved in racing. He’d turned away from me and after a few minutes he turned back around and asked if I thought I could raise another $500.

I’d sworn to myself that I wasn’t going to use any of the $1,000 profit from the sale of the stock but I also knew that none of the other people involved with the car could come up with any meaningful money, at least right then. But, I told him I thought it could be done with over a period of couple of weeks. He gave me a smile and said he thought we might have a deal. He told me he’d just called the mechanic who’d built the motor in his car and asked how much it would cost to put a Chevy racing motor on the track… about $2,500. Being with a mathematical mind I knew we were still short and mentioned it. His response was this was not the time to worry about”nickels and dimes” and wanted to know if I was ready to move forward. I said I was… and we shook hands. It was now after 6pm.

I promised Elle I’d call so asked Neil if I could use his phone. I decided to take a positive approach and told her that it appeared we’d still be able to race even knowing that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Her response seemed to be similar to her attitude of the previous night (and morning), that of being resigned to the situation. What I wasn’t prepared for was what she did say when I said I was on my way home… “Why don’t you stop and eat on the way? I want to clean up the kitchen.” And then I heard the click of the phone hanging up. While I was on the phone I saw Neil head out to the car lot and had an idea pop into my head… maybe Lynda might be home and we could get a bite to eat. In a matter of seconds that became my goal. I knew I had to thank Lynda for putting me in contact with Neil. However, doing it with others around might prove embarrassing so I thought if I could get in touch with her it would be perfect for each of us.
         

If ever there was proof of how small the world is, this receipt is it.

To be continued...

   

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172c)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172c)

It wasn’t until I was well on my way home that it came back to me that I’d made $1,000 profit on the sale of my stock. What triggered it was that Elle had come up with a list of things we’d need when the baby was born and I’d started to put money aside for them. Now, with my sudden ‘windfall’, that ‘need’ would be satisfied. Another thing along the same lines was that Jean, our oldest, would be ten years old on Friday. My mother had planned to take her to the city to see her first play but her stay in the hospital had changed all that and now we had to come up with something to replace it with. When told she wouldn’t be going Jean understood the reason but was still disappointed. Right from the time each of our girls was born my mother had stepped in to help us out by buying clothes for them at both Christmas and for their birthdays. However, the choices were hers and the girls had no say in the matter. About a year earlier Jean complained to Elle that she wanted to be able choose some of her clothes. Initially, it didn’t go over all that well with my mother but she did back off and said that Jean could go with her this year. Again, my mother’s illness changed that plan and Elle was contemplating a ‘shopping spree’ for her but didn’t know if my mother would still pay. Now, it didn’t matter. So, by the time I pulled up the driveway I had a plan to, hopefully, blunt some of Elle’s expected anger. I knew it would cost me some money but it was my decision.

As I walked up the path to the back door I was rehearsing what I’d say, hopefully, to divert what Elle would have ready to say to me. I’d heard it many times before but it still hurt. The kids were busy doing their homework on the kitchen table and the kitchen appeared to have been cleaned up from supper. I don’t remember the exact words but they were something along the lines of “I hope you’ve eaten because there’s nothing here for you… “. That was a shock to hear and it was in a clear, calm voice. No apparent anger… just fact. It took me a few seconds to figure out just what was happening and when I did I decided to go ahead with some of what I was originally going to say. I didn’t lie… I just didn’t fill in some of the details. I told her that I’d sold the stock I’d bought around the first of the year and after work had gone over to the broker’s office to find out just what we’d made. That was partially true. Then I told her we’d made $1,000 profit. I thought that would lighten her up a bit but, still in a controlled manner she said that was good news as we could buy the things she wanted for the baby without having to worry. So, I’d been right about her priority but… I wasn’t ready for her next pronouncement. I was pretty sure it would have to do with Jean’s birthday which was on Friday, Memorial Day. Because the schools were closed Elle had planned to have a big party for her friends after the parade. But, somewhere along the line, she decided to hire a magician to entertain all the kids. Hearing that, all I could think of was “OUCH!”… more dollars from the stock profits. There really wasn’t much for me to say. I certainly wasn’t about to mention the possible help I might be receiving for the race car but did tell her I was going to the garage to unload the car and to make some decisions on what to do with it. She didn’t protest and, as I remember it, told me she’d see me in the morning. While changing my clothes I was having a hard time figuring out her mood. Expecting to get another ‘reaming out’ for not calling all I got was what best could be called “indifference”. I wondered what had happened to cause that.

I was late arriving at the garage and the car had already been unloaded from the hauler. The rest of the crew was busy in removing the now destroyed Pontiac motor. I went up to Alan and asked if Cliffy’s father was going to ask us to pay for it. He laughed saying he’d tried giving it away and nobody wanted it. Still confused about the way Elle had acted when I got home I wondered if it might be better not to say anything about my next day meeting with the used car guy. The attitude of the guys who were there was pretty solemn. I thought if I got them all buoyed up and then found out it wasn’t going to happen it would not be good. I vowed to be a ‘listener’ for the rest of the night and by 11pm the car, without a motor, was safely back in the corner of the shop where it had spent the Winter. No one brought up what I’d felt was the obvious question… what were we going to do with the car? I left it at that and headed home. Alan and I would sometimes race but neither of us felt much like racing at that time.

Elle was cordial at breakfast for which I was thankful. When I was leaving she got her ‘digs’ in by asking if I was going to join them for supper that night. That was a good question because I didn’t have any idea how long my meeting with the used car guy would take. I’d not wanted to tell Elle about the possible arrangement but this appeared to be the best time to do it. It meant being late for work but… I ‘fudged’ most of the facts about it saying that at the garage the night before we’d gotten some indication that we might get some help to continue racing. I’d been asked to meet with the guy because I could get the time off. The look on Elle’s face told me she wasn’t ‘buying it’ but I continued on, saying the guy had a business right across the bay from my parents house. Facts didn’t matter to Elle. She had just heard the ‘death knell’ for her Summer. I left without her saying much of anything and me promising (again) to call and let her know when I’d be home.

At work I called Lynda to make sure the meeting was still on. She gave me the guy’s name, Neil, and telephone number and told me to call to set the time… and wished me luck. He seemed amenable to just about any time that would work for me so, I chose 3:30pm. That let me get in a full day at the bank and would hopefully give me a chance to make it home by 6pm. It took about a half hour to get there. I expected to see the used cars right next door to the dealership but had to go about a half mile down the road to find them. About 30 or so cars filled the lot and they surrounded a building that looked more like a shed than a place of business. It was obvious it was tied to the Chevrolet dealership with one exception… the actual name of the dealership was missing and in its place was the name AOK Used Cars with Chevrolet signs and decals all around the property. I parked and walked in the building. As soon as I did I felt I’d seen the guy before. He was sort of ‘round’ with jowls and a ‘spare tire’. My guess was that he was in his 40’s. Dressed casually, he introduced himself and promptly asked where Cliffy was. That caught me by surprise because Lynda had never mention anything about anyone other than me meeting him. The immediate thought was that I’d screwed the whole deal up. As I was explaining that to him I glanced at some pictures on the bookshelf behind his desk. As I did I saw one with a race car with the number 25 on it. I knew immediately who he was… Neil Wilson… and that my first race car driven by the Cliff that owned the restaurant that was giving us some money had raced against him back in the 50’s. As soon as I brought that up and saw his reaction I knew I was ‘home free’.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172b)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172b)

I stood there with what I know had to have been a puzzled look on my face and watched as she cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. I wasn’t sure it it was to keep me from hearing what she was saying or to keep Stan, her boss, who was sitting in the desk right in front of her from hearing. It seemed like a long time before she took the phone down from her face and sort of whispered a question to me… “What are you doing tomorrow night?” My answer was that it was nothing that couldn’t be changed. She immediately went back to talking on the phone and just before she hung up I heard her say that she’d “confirm” something and get back to the person. While hanging up the phone she looked up at me and told me she’d meet me in her car at the bank parking lot around 5:30pm… and proceeded to make another call. When I didn’t move she made a motion for me to leave.

Outside, on the street, I was completely confused. One minute we were making ‘small talk’ about my race car and the next thing I know she’s making a mysterious call that seemed to involve me. If it hadn’t been for the question about my availability the next night I wouldn’t have had any indication that her call had anything to do with me. I had the envelope from Stan with the information about possible investments in my hand that I knew I could read before 5:30pm but I didn’t want to go back to the bank. I stood there contemplating what I could do for the next 45 minutes or so and decided to head for the library which was about a five minute walk. Since it had been renovated I’d only been there the one time when the brokerage office ran a seminar on IPO’s (initial public offerings) and had only been in the conference room. When I walked in I saw the woman at the information desk was busy with something under her desk as all I could see was her back. I walked up and saw a very nice DP, only she was wearing a skirt and not slacks. She didn’t see me standing there so I had about a ten to fifteen second look at the waist elastics for a white slip and pale green panties. I was close enough to recognize the green elastic as being from a pair of Vanity Fair panties. Vanity Fair, at that time, didn’t use picot-edged elastic with the little loops but used a flat elastic that had something woven in it to make it shimmer. As I’ve written before, for some reason I got (and occasionally still do) a thrill knowing what brand of panties a female was wearing. When she finally realized I was standing there she apologized and pointed me in the right direction for the rest rooms. She was nothing special to look at and probably could’ve lost 10 or more pounds but it was something for me to think about while waiting for 5:30pm and Lynda. (BTW: I didn’t read the information on the stocks while there.)

Going to the library had provided an unexpected benefit (the DP) but another was that to get back to the bank I had to walk past the lot where Lynda’s car was parked. As I did I saw her start to duck down to get into it (a Corvette) and ran up to it. Her initial reaction wasn’t positive but she quickly told me to get in. After she started the car I expected her to drive me to the bank parking lot but she made a right turn as she exited. I started to say something but, as she’d already done a couple of times that day, put a finger to her lips indicating for me to be quiet. She took the left that took us across the river and to the County Center buildings. She then pulled into the empty parking lot by the Surrogate Court. In my mind this was turning out to be a full fledged adventure. When she shut the motor off, she, obviously anxious to talk, asked if I remembered the previous Summer when she’d asked me if I was interested in sponsorship for the race car. I did because the question had so excited me at the time I’d thought I’d stumbled on something really good for the team. But it had been shot down by just one word from me… “Ford”… when I told he we were running that brand of motor. Lynda’s father-in-law owned a Chevrolet dealership and they certainly weren’t going to help a team running a competitor’s motor. That conversation ended right there. However, when I answered affirmatively she got really excited and it was hard to follow her initial words.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++

I’ve been struggling with just how to describe what followed without dragging it out. So, what I’m going to do is to give some background on her father-in-law’s dealership to shorten it… The father-in-law had set his business up in two separate parts…  a new car dealership and a used car division. He owned the dealership outright but for the used cars he had a partner. When opened the dealership he had a number of local investors including the owner of the biggest farm in the area. That man had a son who had gotten into stock car racing when he was a teen and had become successful, winning a number of track championships with sponsorship from the dealership. However, he was in a terrible crash at the track where the season ending championships were held and got hurt quite badly and gave up racing. The pit crew for the car had been employees of the dealership and were disappointed when they had to give it up. When used cars became much in demand, the father-in-law took in a partner to open and run a number of free standing used car lots. He’d been a member of that pit crew and when he was hiring people for the used car venture one of the people was a Southerner who had been a race car driver… and he was back into racing. However, after initial success in a lower class of cars they decided to move up to the top division and he'd become a ‘crash magnet’. The partner had been quietly looking to get involved with a car in the top division that was capable of winning. Lynda’s husband wasn’t actively interested in racing but had become good friends with the guy who was the partner with his father and Lynda talked with him quite often while her husband was away doing his service duty.
 =====================

I’d never seen Lynda this excited. I had to put my hand up to get her to slow down and when she did I found the call she’d made had been with the used car partner and he wanted to meet me to get a dialog started. Of course I had questions and they ranged all over the place with most of them impossible for Lynda to answer. It was during this time I got her to slow down enough to get what I printed right above this. But, I also found out what really had Lynda so excited. Ever since I’d driven her home on New year’s Eve when she was drunk she’d been after me to come up with something so she could repay me. This was it… putting me together with someone who could help me keep racing. It hit me like a ton of bricks… and I’d been satisfied with a few panty pictures. I didn’t know what to say except a meek “Thank you”. She said she’d get back to me the next day with a time to meet the guy. I was having a hard time breathing by then.

It was well after 6pm when I finally looked at my watch. I hadn’t called Elle and knew I was ‘in for it’ when I got home. I’d figured out the reason for Elle being so forgiving on Sunday was that she knew that with no motor and no money for the race car my racing days were over. Now I’d be headed home to face an angry woman for not having called and then to be told there was a chance that we’d  be able to continue racing. Not a good combination.

To be continued…

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172a)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172a)

To keep harmony for the rest of the day I made myself available to do anything Elle wanted done. I wasn’t surprised when she said she wanted me to spade up the flower garden out behind the garage. The perennials we’d planted the previous spring had not made it through the Winter in very good condition so she wanted to start over. When I’d ‘conned’ Bob and Phyl into donating a couple of flats of flowers to the church they reminded me that they were in business to make money and that even though their primary business was wholesale, they would love to see us stop by. It didn’t take long for me to do the spade work and by mid afternoon we were at their nursery. As I remember it the cost was around $25. After planting and seeing how happy Elle was with the result I felt I got off cheaply. At supper I was rewarded with gingerbread with whipped cream, my favorite dessert.

At work, the week didn’t look to be be anything out of the ordinary as I looked down at my desk planner. Basically, there were a number of things to be ‘put to bed’ including getting the daily deposit print outs out of Moira’s work area and down to the cellar. Mae and I had cleared enough space in bin one to have had shelves installed down the outside wall to house them. That had been the easy part. Now came lugging the print outs for the past year and a half down there and to make sure they were properly identified and accessible. I’d contacted Ward, the man who did the daily cleaning of the bank facilities, to bring in his crew for the job. However, I knew he’d need supervision. Moira was the one to do it but I didn’t want her to be the lone bank person there and I’d asked Bret to join her. The only time Ward could do it was on a Saturday as he was the lead custodian for the school district and was required to be at work during the day. His ‘crew’ was made up of other custodians that worked under him in the various schools in the district. Bret hadn’t taken kindly to the request and had let me know it, but in a nice way. However, now with no motor for the race car I wouldn’t be headed for the track on Saturday and would be available to do it.

When Bret showed up at his desk the first thing he wanted to know how the car had made out in Connecticut. In a matter of fact way I told him we’d “hand grenaded” the motor. It was obvious by the look on his face he didn’t believe me. I immediately told him about the other blown motor while at that track and now, for sure, he didn’t believe me. When I continued with the results of our ‘Pontiac experiment’ on Saturday night he finally spoke and demanded that I tell him what really happened. It took a little time but I don’t think he really grasped it until I told him he didn’t have to work on the upcoming Saturday and that I’d do it. It was a hard concept to grasp… three blown motors in 24 hours.

It wasn’t yet 9:30am when Joanie told me that Stan, my stock broker, was on the phone for me. It was to tell me it was time to “unload” the Pacific Petroleum stock that I’d bought earlier in the year. It was up 40% and he told me it was foolish to go any further. If I sold it at the bid price I’d end up with about a $1,000 profit. I’d been standing when I took the call but after hearing that I ended up sitting down. I told him to go ahead with the sale. He closed the call by saying he had some other stocks he wanted me to look at and had the information at his desk. I told him I’d be over at lunch time. I can honestly remember sitting there, contemplating the $1,000, and telling myself NOT to put it into the race car and to keep my mouth shut and just re-invest it with the principal  from the sale. I couldn’t wait to hear the noon siren.

When I walked into the brokerage office I saw Stan and Lynda over at Bill, the manager’s area. The two of them were standing by his desk and seemed to be in deep conversation. Lynda happened to look over to where I was and put a finger up to indicate for me to wait. Approaching me, I could see she was agitated. I also noticed that Ruthe, Bill’s assistant, wasn’t at her desk. She rarely left the office to have lunch and if she did it was usually with Bill. So, I had a slight indication that what was troubling Lynda might have something to do with Ruthe… and I was right.

Eddie, Ruthe’s ex husband had been held in jail since he’d been apprehended after beating her up. Bill had just received word that a plea deal had been worked out for him to avoid going to trial. They didn’t know the details but they did know the only jail time would be the time he’d already served. Ruthe, as soon as she'd heard the news, left. My knowledge of the court system was practically non existent. Bill’s father was a Justice of the Peace (sort of like a judge) in the township where Bill lived and he’d called him to see if he could get details on the decision. After Lynda told me about it she added that something just wasn’t right. I’d not gotten too involved with all the machinations of Eddie’s past transgressions but did know the reason he’d been held in jail was that he’d broken his probation for a previous beating of Ruthe. So, with little to go on all I could do was to listen. Lynda suggested that I stop by after work to talk with Stan about re-investing the proceeds from the sale as he was a little “distracted” at the moment.

When Bret returned from his lunch break I told him about Eddie and what I’d heard. His immediate reaction was to say that he pretty much felt he’d get off “light”. He went on that Eddie’s father, one of the richest farmers in the township, was “well connected” and that’s how Eddie got off with probation the last time. It made me wonder what Ruthe was going to do what with him now freed from jail. Again, I didn’t have knowledge of the courts or details of the plea deal but I pretty much knew that Ruthe was not in a good frame of mind.

I left work at around 4:30pm and headed back to the brokerage office. It was pretty much deserted with only Lynda, Bill and Stan still there. As soon as Stan saw me he handed me an envelope and told me to take a look at the suggestions he’d placed in it and there was nothing that needed an immediate decision. It was obvious he didn’t want to discuss anything with me as he turned back to his desk leaving me standing outside Lynda’s work area. She didn’t seem to be a stressed as when I’d been there at lunch and asked what I’d been up to. It had been a couple of weeks since I’d been in the office so, with nothing earth shattering to say, mentioned that the stock car season had started and ended for me. She gave me a funny look as if to say “What are you talking about?” I told her that we’d won on opening night but had blown the motor up the past weekend. I had to explain the “blown motor” to her but she was aware of the precarious position, monetarily, that our team was in and that I was not going to underwrite it, she asked what was next. I shrugged my shoulders and made a funny face. She said but one word… “Seriously?” That’s when I said that we’d probably sell the car without a motor and try to get as much of our investment back as we could. The only way to describe the look on her face was one of disbelief. “But you guys just won a race and you’re quitting?” My answer back was “No motor… no racing…” She immediately dialed up a number on her phone.

To be continued…

LIFE GOES ON... and on... (Part 171z)

LIFE GOES ON… and on… (Part 171z)

There was no doubt about it… I was caught ‘red handed’ and, if the light on Elle’s night stand had been on, red-faced as well. Sometimes the easiest thing to do is to tell the truth and I did. I stood there holding the panties and told her I thought they were different when I observed her getting undressed and I was curious and took them to ‘inspect’ them. I could see the outline of her face with the light from my side of the bed and she didn’t seem too upset. I started to explain what I’d discovered but she put her hand up as if to tell me to shut up. I did and put the panties back on top of the borrowed slacks on the chair. In bed, I wondered why I’d never seen any like them what with my many trips to various lingerie departments over the years… and eventually fell asleep.

I managed to make it to the 8am service at church in the morning and, for the first time since the flowers had been planted, got to see what they looked like in full bloom. A definite improvement! Seeing them, I thought of the ‘other Elle’ who I’d helped plant the flowers and looked for her inside but she wasn’t there. A couple who I knew as Summer residents were there and commented on how nice the grounds looked. I smiled inwardly as the only thing that had changed was the addition of the flowers. I’d kept the hedges trimmed, lawn cut and weeded and picked up the trash that got blown onto the grounds. Now, at least some of my efforts were noted. When the service was over I ventured down to the undercroft just to make sure it was ready for the 10am service ‘meet and greet’. When I got to the bottom of the stairs and opened the door I had to stop. As I’d previously written, the church had operated a “Thrift Shoppe” for a while and had obtained about ten tables to display the goods. When the store was discontinued we still had the tables and had lined them up down the walls and pulling them out for various events held there occasionally. On one of the tables at the far end of the room were two people, a male and a female, who were very obviously ‘going at it’. Even as I stood there with my hand on the doorknob they didn’t stop. I think what made the situation so bizarre was that the stairs were old and creaked loudly. If someone used them during a church service everyone would know. The heads of both of them were farther from me that their feet so I couldn’t see anything to identify either of them. I honestly don’t know how long I stood there observing before I made a coughing sound to, hopefully get their attention. I had to do it multiple times before the male literally jumped off the female and without turning around tried pulling his pants up and headed for the kitchen. The female tried to sit up and to follow the path of the male by turning her upper body to the left and letting her left leg slide off the table. She wasn’t wearing panties and even though I was at least some thirty feet away, I knew what I was looking at. She called out to the guy a couple of time before she realized I was in the room. When she turned towards me I could see it was the minister’s middle daughter. She then jumped off the table and followed the path of her partner. I wasn’t about to chase either of them choosing to let them work the situation out together. However, I let the voyeuristic happenings pass and went over to see what condition the table was in before parishioners showed up. As I said, the tables had been shoved up against the walls and as I looked at the top of the table I saw something white stuffed between it and the wall. Reaching for it I found I had a pair of cotton bikinis in my hand. Unable to help myself, I inspected them immediately. The label was readily visible and I recognized the name… Lollipop, and saw they were a size 6. When I opened them up I discovered they had flowers embroidered across the front and the elastics, both leg and waist, had pink interwoven in them. There was not a doubt in my mind that they were going home with me. I wasn’t sure if the girl saw who I was or not but, since she was the one being ‘naughty’, I wasn’t worried about her saying anything about missing panties from the undercroft of the church. At the back door, and with sunlight to do a close inspection, it was obvious that they’d been ‘visited’ as the crotch was damp. After that I folded them up, stuffed them in my pocket and headed for my car.

Naturally excited about my ‘prize’ I’d actually forgotten about the panties Elle had worn home the night before until I walked into the kitchen and saw the borrowed clothes on the counter along with some of the kids clothes she was going to wash. I eyed the panties but knew I had “a snowball’s chance in hell” of getting them for my ‘stash’. Eating breakfast I kept looking over at the pile of clothes eyeing the “V” shape of the crotch and wondering who made them and, even more, where the lady had bought them. Then, when Elle got up from the table she took the panties off the pile and proceeded to open the door under the sink where the trash container was located. I couldn’t see her because the counter was in the way but when she picked the clothes up off the counter and headed for the basement the panties weren’t there. When I realized what I’d just witnessed I couldn’t believe it. Elle had thrown the panties away. There had to be a reason but I wasn't about to start a discussion on the subject. Other than being caught the night before with the panties in hand, Elle had seemed to have let my trip to Connecticut go and I didn’t want to do anything to get her riled up. 

After returning from the basement she headed upstairs to get dressed for church and to make sure the kids were ready themselves. As soon as she was out the door and on her way I was in the trash container. I was able to check there wasn’t a brand label but the label did tell me they were a size six and were also nylon satin tricot confirmed by the label reading 100% Antron Nylon. They were well worn with a tear in the material by the left leg elastic but certainly not bad enough to be thrown away. I put them back and then tried to come up with a plan of attack to ‘rescue’ the panties for my ‘stash’. It’s funny but after finding the cotton bikini’s at church I’d forgotten about the other panties. Now, with them as my main focus, I’d forgotten about the bikini’s, until I put my hand in my pocket to get a handkerchief and pulled them out with it. I didn’t want to get too euphoric about having two new pair (to me) to add to my ever growing collection because I knew I had to wait for Elle to put the trash outside for me to rescue the nylon pair. However, I had to leave for the hospital to visit my mother so it would have to wait. Back in those days they had set visiting hours and the ‘window’ was fairly short.

On my way I was able to think of something else… how had Cliffy and the race car done with the Pontiac motor. I decided that I’d stop at Cliffy’s house on my way back home. Walking into my mother’s hospital room I could see some color in her face. They were still pumping liquids into her intravenously but she seemed to be in good spirits. She’d been told they could possibly release her the next day and then, when visiting hours were up, thanked me for coming. She told me it wouldn’t be necessary to return in the afternoon as some neighbors were stopping by. At Cliffy’s house I saw his truck was gone but knew Beth, his wife, would know how the night had gone. When I asked the question it was answered by a big laugh. On the third lap of practice the motor had blown up… Three motors in 24 hours! Unbelievable!

Walking up to the back door at home I saw something that made my day… Elle had put the trash container out on the patio for me to empty it into the big garbage pail out by the garage. Upon seeing it I knew I was home free as far as ‘rescuing’ the “V” panties as I’d already dubbed them. The only thing left was for me to get them and the bikinis into my “stash”. 

  

the "V" panties... front (note crotch up to waist)

the "V" panties... back (Note the crotch up to waist)

Lollipop cotton... size 6