Since in my last blog I told you about my father’s restored Dodge, it leads right into this little story about the day he took sweet hubby for a ride in his restored Model T.
My father belonged to a group of Model T enthusiasts who were called, ironically, The Model Ts. The group was having their annual pig roast potluck picnic and he invited sweet hubby and myself along. They were going to drive there in the Model T and I was going to follow along behind them in the van, just in case.
The Model T was stored in my father’s barn in Pontiac and the party was somewhere west of White Lake (?) I don’t really remember the city, I just know we drove west on M-59 for quite awhile.
And what a ride it was!! First off, we discovered he couldn’t really see the lights as well as he always let on as he was going through them on pinks or oranges, depending on how you classify a yellow light that is in the process of turning red. Keep in mind that I was following them in our van and I had no map, no address or any directions other than being told that I had to “keep up”. So Pops would blast through on a pink and I would go through on what must surely have been a solid red. I was swearing under my breath and praying that no cops were around to see and write up what would surely be a hefty ticket.
Second poor sweet hubby was shoe horned in the vehicle because once Pops found out that the poor boy had never ridden in such an old car, well he made sure he was going to ride in it. I had planned on being the one who was riding with Pops that day; didn’t quite pan out as I thought.
We drove for what felt like forever till we got to the right neighborhood and found the right house, tucked back in on the very last road. Pops pulled over to park and I turned around on the street and parked across from them as the only other spot near them was a parallel parking spot and I avoid those like the plaque.
Pops stopped the car, set the brake and jumped out to go to the picnic. Sweet hubby had to maneuver around in the seat to get his leg out so he could extract himself from the car. While he was moving around, the car which had been parked on a slight incline, started to roll backwards. Sweet hubby was starting to panic and yell, I was yelling to get Pops attention and suddenly people were running to help stop the car. We got it stopped, sweet hubby got out and we had to listen to Pops complain that somebody’s leg must’ve disengaged the parking brake. I had to also listen to sweet hubby complain that Pops hadn’t set the parking brake. Needless to say, I didn’t get to eat my roasted pig in very much peace!!!