My (One Week) Project Car

In 1969, after blowing reverse gear in the transmission and junking the first car I bought, I was in the same predicament as before. I had a motorcycle for transportation, but when I needed a car due to weather, I had to borrow one of my parents' cars. And, I knew winter in Wisconsin was coming pretty quickly. I had a part time job after school at a Clark gas station, so riding the school bus was not going to enable me to get to work on time. 

Within a month or two a guy at work told me he knew somebody with a 1953 Dodge car that was free to take away. Well, the words car and free rang in my ears as I perked right up. I asked him if it ran and he said yes, all it needed was the brakes fixed. So we went over to his house to take a look. It was a kind of ugly brown and kind of beat up but the body was in OK shape. I didn’t care what it looked like and I said if it runs, I’ll take it. He said “OK it’s yours for a dollar to make it a legal sale” and asked how I was going to get it home. I replied that I’ll drive it and get it there and he signed off on the title while I gave him a dollar. I also didn’t tell him I was only 16 and underage to legally buy a car.

After getting a ride back to his house, I got the keys and jumped in. It had a straight 6 motor and 3 on the tree manual transmission. It started up and I drove it slowly home and when having to stop would leave it in gear and turn the engine off. The hand parking brake didn’t work or I would have tried using that. It’s funny how hearing the word “free” kind of caused me to neglect looking very carefully at the car. I noticed as I was poking along Silver Spring Dr at a few miles per hour a blue haze behind me from burning oil coming through the tail pipe. Getting back home I parked it in the driveway and started to look the car over a bit more, finding two tires nearly bald. Opening the hood there was smoke and fumes saused from oil getting on the exhaust manifold. Looking underneath there were some wet spots on the motor from some oil leaks dripping. Not exactly a chick magnet. I had to keep telling myself “it was free”.

Well, then dad gets home from work. “What’s that in the driveway”, he asked. I told him and said the car was free, all it needs is the brakes fixed. He asked “How did you get it here with no brakes?” I told him how. My dad could be a man of few words, especially with me. I remember these, “Get that thing out of the driveway!". He was not happy and I went out and parked it on the street in front of the house.

So, there it sat for about a week. I imagine dad went out and looked the car over after I went to work, but he didn’t say anything or tell me. I was still young and knew nothing about fixing cars. Although I was reading every Hot Rod and Car & Driver magazine I could get my hands on, I had no idea of brake systems and how they work. As I started to realize that I may have made a foolish decision, I kept a low profile around the house, made myself scarce and stayed quiet.

The following Saturday, my dad came in and asked “What are you going to do with that car?” I told him I wasn’t quite sure and he said “Don’t you think that the reason the car was free was because it wasn’t worth fixing?” I said “Yes, I suppose so.” He then said “Then get the car title and start heading down to the junkyard and I’ll come pick you up". And, that was the second trip for me to Larry’s junkyard in Butler, with many more to come! I wasn't having very good luck buying cars.

A couple days later mom came up to me and said she was going to stop driving for the time being. She was pregnant with her last child, my sister Karin, and was content to just stay home and didn’t have a need to go anywhere. So, I took over the 1957 Chrysler New Yorker after that and my car shopping was over for a while. And I was a happy guy! That car had a 392 hemi motor and could easily bury the 120 mph speedometer needle!

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Old Car Stories and Life Lessons

I obtained my driver’s license when I turned 16 years of age near the end of 1968. Being in my junior year of high school, I had a motorcycle for transportation but had to borrow one of the two family cars when needed due to weather. My parents had two cars, one a 1957 Chrysler New Yorker that I ended up with later. I usually had access to one or the other but I longed to have my own vehicle.

Not long after getting a job at a Clark station two weeks before my senior year of high school in 1969, my boss, Chuck Oleson, tipped me off to one of his very elderly regular customers who told him that he had decided to quit driving and sell his car. He lived only a couple blocks north of the station on Hopkins and I asked Chuck for a referral to go see the car. Chuck called him and I went over to his house. There sat in the driveway a “really clean” 1955 Plymouth Savoy 4-door sedan with absolutely no rust on it, spotless interior with plastic covers on the bench seats which were like new! Under the hood was a straight 6 cylinder motor and a three-on-the-tree manual transmission. I’m not certain, but I think the mileage on the vehicle was not much more than 50,000. I asked what he wanted for it and he said $50 if I promised to take care of it! I had $50 and the deal was made (with my fingers crossed). I didn't even ask my parents before bringing the title home because I was too young to own and register it. I begged my dad to come over there and see it. After driving over there, he agreed it was a good deal, and signing off for it, we took it home.

Well, being stupid young me, I’m glad I never saw him again, having to explain what happened shortly after. I bought the car and only had it for a few days. I drove it to Chuck’s station to display my great deal to the guys. Being 16 years old, I decided to show off and do a burn-out by flooring the gas and popping the clutch. Well, all that straight 6 motor would do was squeak the tires. That wasn’t good enough for me, so I put it in reverse, figuring the weight transfer would lighten the load on the back tires, enabling a smoky backward burn out (Randy style).

I blew reverse gear in the transmission!

With pieces of the shattered gear in the transmission I could still drive it in the forward gears but the chucks of metal getting mixed up in the oil would cause a crazy loud bashing as the car was moving forward. I actually drove the car around for about a month with no reverse and wondering when the thing was going to seize up on me. At that time I was young and had no idea of how to fix cars. It wasn't until the following year that a buddy of mine started showing me how to fix/replace the stuff I blew up on my cars.

I gave my dad some bullshit story about it “just coming apart” when I was backing up. I’m sure he knew what I had done but took mercy on me. He told me it was not worth fixing and followed me to Larry’s junkyard, one of three vehicles that ended upther in their final resting place. Later on I got to know Larry, the junkyard guy, pretty well as I had to buy parts from him to fix future cars.

Life’s lessons!

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Team Driving: "Not for the faint of heart!"

It was either 1996 or ’97, our regional director received word that seasonal extra help was needed for a national account customer. Their business involved transporting fresh cut floral greens and wreaths from their production "farms" throughout the country to retail outlets. The Christmas season was their busy season and they were asking for volunteer drivers to spend six weeks running team to support their operation. The drivers would be guaranteed $1,000 per week minimum to those that would commit. I had just completed the orientation of a new young driver named Dave. I was going to be riding with him for two weeks training anyway so I asked if he was interested and he said yes, without hesitation. He was trying to save up cash so he could move his wife and kid to Salt Lake City from Grealy, Co. He had left them at their apartment to come to Utah for a decent job as she was still employed at a meat packing plant in Colorado. 

There were four of us drivers that agreed, making up two teams and off we went, getting a couple Ryder rental tractors and heading up to Belfair, Wa. We picked up a couple of Ryder refridgerated trailers from a Ryder shop in Tacoma and went over and got loaded. Leaving out, Dave and I decided on running a 5 on, 5 off schedule. Being the first extended time for me running team, it was quite an experience. I hardly got any sleep the first couple days bouncing around in the sleeper. We had decent conventional Freightliners with air-ride but that made little difference. It was a real struggle until finally, I was so dead tired that my body had to sleep. Once past the initial couple days it was better, but still, team driving is a hard life. I don’t know how they can do 10 on, 10 off with the new regulations. 

After a couple weeks we were back up in the northwest getting loaded to go to Tennessee and I could sense that my partner was getting homesick missing his family. I had been thinking about running back through Salt Lake to get home for a couple hours but decided to go through Colorado so he could stop and see his wife. Bear in mind that I also had a wife at home, but deferred to get him some time with her and his kid. Well, we drove up to their apartment and he introduced me to the spouse. I could sense a palpable tension between them so I decided to go outside, telling Dave I would wait for him in the truck. A couple of hours later Dave comes out and announces that he was quitting! Just like that. The dude just walked off the truck on me, his wife telling him to either stay or not come back. It’s about midnight and I was pretty pissed off. He packed his stuff out and I just started driving, not wanting to wake my boss up, knowing she could do nothing at that time of night. 

The next morning I called Michelle to tell her what happened. She called the account manager and they came up with a plan to fly another driver from Oklahoma into Kansas City where I could pick him up and he would finish out the commitment with me. Late that night I pulled into a truckstop near KC where he had taken a cab from the airport and met Doofus. He got his stuff on board and I told him I would drive the first shift, 5 on, 5 off. One of the first things Doofus said to me “I don’t know how you can drive all night, I have problems staying awake”. Not a good way to start off with me and I informed him what “team driving” consisted of. A short time later he says “ I hope we don’t go to New York, I’m wanted there”. Needless to say, Doofus and I didn’t start out on very good terms. 

We made it to the Nashville area where we delivered and then got stuck for three days while they looked for a load. That wasn’t so bad though as we got a motel near the Nashville truck stop downtown and I was able to get away from my "partner" and tour the downtown honky tonks over the weekend. Being guaranteed $1,000 per week meant we didn’t have to worry about getting the miles. By Monday, they still couldn’t find us a load so we were told to dead-head to DeLand, Florida for another load of “greens”. That load took us to San Antonio, Tx, the location of the customer’s headquarters. I had driven in and my "partner" was up for the next driving shift. We spent several hours unloading and reloading for the northwest and I told him several times to jump in the sleeper and rest so he could be ready to go. I might as well have been talking to the wall as the jerk didn’t listen to me. Late in the afternoon they finished loading and I could tell he was tired. I was pretty irate and told him I would drive for a couple hours so he could sleep. 

After we switched out it was dark and I went back into the sleeper and dozed off. A couple hours later I was startled awake with the truck running on the gravel shoulder and violently veering off as dipshit jerked on the steering wheel. I tore open the curtain and asked him what the hell is going on with his response being “I got tired”. That was it for me as my adrenaline took over telling him “pull over, I’m driving”. We were out in the middle of nowhere so I took the wheel until I could find a truckstop and payphone. I called my boss, told her what happened and said “either he gets off the truck or I will”. That was it for Michelle also as she told me to take him to the Albuquerque airport, saying they would fly him back to where he came from. I never let him back behind the wheel and drove all night to get rid of him. When he woke up I told him what I had done, what I was told to do, and he remained quiet as a mouse the rest of the way as I was in no mood for conversation. 

After getting rid of him I called Michelle and found that the other team from Salt Lake wanted to split up and that Jim was willing to jump on my truck to finish out the six weeks. What a relief! Jim was another driver trainer from our Salt Lake City account and a true professional. We got along great and finished out the time together. But, ever since then, I’ve had no desire to ever run team again! A note about young Dave: About a year later, he showed up at our office wanting to know if he could reapply for a job. “Ummm, no!” was the response. He had definately burned his bridge. If I had been there when he came in, I would have asked him if he was still married.

Driving Miss Daisy? No, it's Mrs.Pritzker

Every time I heard or read the name Pritzker for the last couple of years, it seemed so familiar. That name is often in the news as the current governor in our neighboring state of Illinois is JB Pritzker. Now, the governor and I are on very opposite sides of the political spectrum, as you would correctly assume. But his name seemed so familiar, like I heard it before. The name is distinctive. But why? It’s been bugging me for a long time.

I was thinking last week about my late father. He retired in 1979 after 30 years at Chrysler/AMC and he and mom moved to Florida with my three youngest siblings. During the 1980’s mom would work part time for a firm that provided services for the elderly. I remember my dad telling me that he would occasionally drive a woman around on errands and appointments when she needed him. On the couple occasions he talked to me about it, he would always refer to her by name, Mrs. "So-and-So". He had also mentioned she was a wealthy widow from Chicago and said the family was in the hotel business. Suddenly, it clicked, Chicago? Illinois? Distinctive name? Wealthy family? Could she have been a Pritzker? Last week, I even asked my younger siblings if they remembered the name of the woman that dad used to drive around. They all said no.

That made me even more curious and led me to look up the Pritzker family. Well, I’ll be! I discovered a Rhoda Pritzker that had lived 10 miles from my parents home. She had married Jack Nicholas Pritzker, who was a great uncle to the current Illinois governor JB Pritzker. The family indeed built the Hyatt hotel chain and family members still have a large holding in the company. Jack and Rhoda bought the home on Casey Key in Florida in 1970. Her husband died in 1979, the year my parents moved To Sarasota.

So, my dad had his little “Driving Miss Daisy” job helping a Pritzker widow. He would drive over to her house when she called. She also wanted her car “exercised” as she didn’t drive. So dad would get her big station wagon out of the garage and off they would go. Mystery solved!

Rhoda Pritzker died in Casey Key in 2007 at the age of 93. Her funeral was held in Chicago. The latest sale of her old house was in 2016 for $1.75 million.

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Sobering News on the State of Trucking in the US

This Texas crash occured in March, reported by The Gateway Pundit:

"A Travis County judge on Tuesday slashed the bond for Solomun Weldekeal-Araya — a foreign national and 18-wheeler driver — from $1.2 million down to a jaw-dropping $7,000, despite his role in a tragic crash that left five people dead, including a child and a baby.

The deadly pileup occurred last month on Interstate 35 in North Austin, involving 17 vehicles and 17 people, resulting in fiery devastation and multiple injuries.

Adding fuel to the fire, Araya, who is reportedly on a visa from Ethiopia, was previously cited for going 63 in a 30 mph zone, an offense that should have jeopardized his CDL. Records show he had a court date scheduled just a week after the fatal crash.

Independent journalist Sarah Fields reported that Araya is an asylum seeker on a work visa who barely speaks English and is employed by a network of questionable LLCs currently under investigation by Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy.

The Gateway Pundit previously reported that according to public records and whistleblower claims, Araya was driving under a Texas-based company called ZBN Transport LLC. The company shares a physical address—9180 Forest Lane, Apt. 202, Dallas, TX—with at least a dozen other transportation LLCs registered in the same North Dallas apartment complex, each under slightly different names or unit numbers.

One of those names, Bay Area Lines LLC, even appeared on a truck inspection record just a day after ZBN was flagged—suggesting a pattern of companies swapping names daily to dodge regulatory scrutiny.

Industry insiders claim that while occasional business name changes aren’t unheard of, daily swaps signal red flags. “This kind of name-flipping is used to reset inspection scores, hide violations, and continue operating dangerous equipment with impunity,” one trucking compliance expert noted."

This infux of illiterate steering wheel holders and illigitimate trucking companies has been going on for years! It's about time something is done!

I've gotten responses from a state trooper and a current Illinois DOT officer. They both included their names but I won't post them here:

"I'm an a Illinois DOT officer and have been since 2008 i agree 100% . Then we have state law which is even more ridiculous. All CFV (commercial farm vehicles) farm plated are exempt with 150 miles from CDl, D & A testing,medical card and HOS, everything but maintenence. Had a farmer tell me he hires alot of people from Somalia. They then come here work for him for dirt cheap with no qualifications at all and need nothing. Makes you feel really safe on the roads. I deal with it daily people can't speak English even worse laying under their 80000 pound truck yelling for them to brake only hoping and praying they don't run you over. Even when we could put them OOS for non speaking they would get a relief driver get down the road and switch back anyways.

State Trooper: "I see tons of foreigner truckers that we stop that speak ZERO English and all conveniently have a birthdate of Jan 1 of some random year. Huge number of them come through Minnesota, wonder which “squad” congresswoman is responsible for that?"

News Credit: https://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2025/05/outrage-travis-county-judge