It was such a wonderful afternoon,
Franky, with his friend Alvie were hanging out with the “ big shot “ on the block,...me. They were
the young boys on our block and liked to hang out some times with me and the Roadster. I had graduated Oakland High
and had a real job, and now a real hot rod. They admired the car but were very careful to conceal that from me. They
were curious about the car, and asked a lot of questions. “Why don’t you have fenders?” or “
How fast will it go?” It was my chance to play “ big shot “ for my two fans. And I basked in
the glory of it. I knew what would really impress them would be a ride around the block.
So the three of us fit very well on the bench seat
with a blanket thrown over it, Frank was in the middle and Alvie slammed the Roadster door shut, it rang with the sound
of Ford steel! We traveled a few blocks to the signal at Park Blvd. then a left and I let the engine wind up a little.
Passing a Union gas station on my left, I remembered on a previous day that someone shouted as I was passing by but I didn’t
have time to stop then. Thinking it might be a friend from school, I made a u-turn at the next block, expecting someone
I knew. Pulling into the station looking to see a familiar face, but the guy standing at the door of the lube room was
no one I recognized. So I said, were you yelling at me? ‘That was me” he said. Puzzled, I asked,
do I know you?
“No, I said your
car is a piece of junk.” Well I was stunned, speechless for a moment.
Here I was showing off my car to my young neighbors and now insulted in front of them.
Oh yeah? Well have you got something better? I blurted out. He
looked like a football player with a muscular build and crew cut blonde hair and he gestured over his shoulder at a beautiful
47 Merc yellow convertible with a white top. “That’s my car, it can blow the doors off your pile of junk!”
Well, I thought there might be some truth in that and I was trying to find a way out of racing him and still save face
when his eyes begin to glare and he started walking towards us. I don’t know what made him so angry, but he took
a quick step towards the side where Alvie was, and I could tell it wasn’t good. I popped the clutch just as he
punched Alvie on his thin arm, and we made a hasty exit. He wanted to hit me, but Alvie was between us and unfortunately
got the hit. We drove off and I just couldn’t understand why a fellow hot-rodder was so mad at me, so violent,
and we had never met before. So I thought it would be best to avoid that area in the future, and I did. Alvie’s
arm had a big black and blue mark on it. That could have been my arm.
About a week later, working on the rod in my garage, I decided to take a little ride and forgot that I had disconnected the battery wire from the coil,
it was barely making a connection but the engine ran. It was a cool evening on a week night and my favorite ride was
to circle the lake in downtown Oakland. I was about half way around and checking out the drive in parking lot to see
if there was any action there when my engine cut-off, went completely dead. My mind raced like a computer as I pulled
over to the curb. What could it be? Standing next to the engine, I spotted the wire and I thought this will be
an easy fix and I’ll be on my way, not realizing that I left the lights on and I had a weak battery. Occasionally
a car would go by ( not like traffic today ) and
I meant to take my time and do a good job. The night had a chill in it, but I was warm standing over the
engine in my leather jacket. Another car went by me and then slammed on the brakes stopping in the middle of the street.
As I looked up I heard a shout from inside the car. “That’s the guy!” Then I recognized
the yellow Mercury convertible with four guys
inside. It was my enemy! And they weren't stopping to help me! My fingers didn’t seem to work right
as I tried to fasten the wire, my mind raced and I thought......... I’m dead! I jumped in my car hoping the wire
could hold a connection, hit the starter button. The starter groaned sluggishly, then clicked and my heart sank as I
switched off the lights. Just then the Merc revved its engine followed by a loud bang, he had snapped his axle trying
to back up to where I was stopped.
In desperation
I stepped out and started to push eighteen hundred and sixty pounds of Ford tin. lucky the street was level or slightly down hill. Maybe the adrenaline helped me, but it was
rolling pretty good and I reached in with my right hand and slapped the gearshift up into second. The engine caught
and the Roadster bucked and stumbled.
I
swung in behind the wheel and stepped on the gas, driving past the Merc just as his doors were opening, and four big guys
jumped out shaking their fists at me. Wow I thought, I am so lucky! Well I didn’t get very far before
the engine went dead again! I took it out of gear and let it
coast as long as it could. I was far enough away that I had time to fix that darn wire again, re-start
and drive home. Now I guess he was really mad at me and blamed me for his axle breaking, and it was a Columbia two speed,
very rare and expensive!
Some time went by before my next and last encounter with my enemy. I had almost forgotten about him, so many
things were happening around that time. A few blocks from my home on a sunny afternoon when I heard an engine, close
in back of me.
Yeah, coming up to stop sign,
I took a quick look over my shoulder, and caught sight of a yellow fender very close to me. Then I realized........
it’s him! It was either flight or fight, I chose flight! I rolled through the stop sign to make my right
hand turn on Trestle Glen and then the pedal hit the metal............. The chase was on! I guess this was to be our
destiny, not side by side in a honorable street race, but with a chase that I better not lose! I could end up black
and blue like Alvie’s arm. When I saw the movie, “ Back to the future “ my enemy looked so much like Biff who chased Michael J. Fox in a Ford convertible,
it was a DejaView ! My Ford flathead wound up in low gear and I shifted, keeping “on the cam.” Second
gear scratch, and I put some distance between us, but I was headed towards my house, not a good idea. I didn’t want
him to know where I lived! This was MY neighborhood and I knew the streets very well having “terrorized”
them many times. There were a series of sharp left and right hand turns, all up-hill and that was an advantage for me. It
was like a wild roller coaster ride, the 750 15s howling at every turn, a quick look over my shoulder confirmed, he was losing
ground. Even if the Merc had a hot engine, it couldn’t fly around the corners like my lightweight roadster. Hardly
even pausing for the stop sign, I crossed Park Blvd. and made the first right hand turn I came to, then in about halfway down
the street, spotted a driveway between two houses and cutting the engine coasted to the very end and waited. That trick
worked before for me when the cops chased me in Oakland, but that time it was at night. “ A brush with the law.”
So I waited, listening, but I guess “Biff”
gave up. I never saw him again. I heard that he joined the Marines and went to Korea. I hope he made it
back o.k. I never knew why he was my enemy, it must have been my car. “Biffs” car was beautiful and it was
souped up too, mine was just a jalopy that I loved dearly, today it would qualify as a
“Rat-Rod”, a work in progress in the “honorable cloak of black
primer.” I guess he just wanted to let me know that my jalopy wasn’t as great as I thought it was. But
it WAS
as great ( in my mind, ) it was like
“ The Magic Cape,” wonderful, when you believe!
True Hot Rod Adventures.................. Ron Francis
