I guess Texas has always had more than the average share of crazy people.
I'm glad I left there at an early age.
Damage by tornadoes was shown on TV the other day. There was one especially big pileup of cars. It prompted memory of a trip our family took one autumn. We were going from Eastland to Abilene, Texas, to see my mother's sister and her husband, Lewis, who was a lot like Roy Rogers. I was always excited about visiting them because they had so many animals and Lewis had them all trained like circus performers.
His Palomino horse, Trigger, could count by tapping his right front hoof two, five, seven, 10 or 12 times when Uncle Lewis told him to do so. He would lay down with his feet in the air and his eyes closed if he was told to "play dead." Uncle Lewis' dog did tricks, his parrot did tricks and talked, and his pet raccoon was adept at doing what he was told to do.
It was about the distance to Abilene from Eastland as it is from Siloam Springs to Tulsa.
We had just passed the town of Cisco, driving our 1937 Studebaker, when a car sped around us in a no-passing zone. The car cut back quickly in front of us to avoid hitting an oncoming car. (It was a two-lane highway.)
In pulling so quickly in front of us, the speeding car's rear bumper caught onto our front bumper. The driver sped up and gave us the finger. He apparently thought we were challenging him, for we were right behind him inasmuch as he was pulling us.
After about 40 miles, the car to which we were attached turned abruptly off the highway onto a graveled county road. The bumpers became disengaged in the process.
The driver of the other car jumped out and yelled at us, saying, "Are you crazy, chasing us and on our tail for 40 miles just because we passed you?"
My dad, at that time, was all muscle and had no fear of anyone. He grabbed the other driver by the throat with his big hands and said, "You could have got my kids killed, driving so fast and cutting back in front of us like you did! Didn't you have sense enough to realize your rear bumper was snagged on my front bumper? Didn't you hear me honking and see me flashing my lights on and off? I should wring your neck!"
Fortunately, a highway patrolman came along and took control of the situation. I remember that because he gave us kids suckers. Otherwise, that was one car ride I would like to forget!
-- Louis Houston is a resident of Siloam Springs. His book "The Grape-Toned Studebaker" is available locally and from Amazon.com. Send any questions or comments to [email protected] or call 524-6926. The opinions expressed are those of the author.
Community on 11/25/2015