I and my friends were Datsun 510 nuts back in the mid 70's. One damp and
drissle night my car kept stalling after a High School basketball game. My
friend (we called him "Wild Bill") reluctantly agree to tow me home with a
chain. Reluctant he was because he rather would be off somewhere with his
girlfriend.
Anyway, not heeding my admonishments to "go slowly" he kept accelerating,
road mist from his car obstructed my view. I moved slightly to the right and
as one would suspect a crested hill with a slight off camber turn, countered
the effects of traction. My movement started the rear of his car to slide
and at one point we actually passed him, his car facing in the opposite
direction!
Eventually the chain grabbed and I was now pulling him both backwards and
laterally towards my car. Instinctively one of my passengers rolled down his
window (it was all seemingly happening in slow motion), put his hand out and
kept the two sliding cars from striking each other. He was ready to leave
me, my passengers and my car right there. Eventually (and again reluctantly)
he agreed to pile us all in and take us home. Ironically my step-father took
me back to my car which promptly started and was driven home.
Wild Bill provided other thrilling moments (likely adding to my arrythmic
condition) such as his unlawful posession of a Forest Service gate key and a
terrorizing "pedal to the floor and slide" ride from Azuza to the top of Mt.
Wilson on closed forest service roads. Yes, I am glad to be alive, "and let
that be a lesson to you kids!"
Tom Witt
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