[GEARDRIVEN]

I was 18 years old owning my first car, a 1971 Trans Am. As many of the youth in my time, I was foolish, defiant and knew all I needed to know to get through life.
I lived in the Chicagoland area and my parents planned a family event to visit some of our relatives in southern Illiniois.
Drive my dad's '72 Catalina with a 400 2Bbl and leave my T/A at home...??? I was working a union job loading trucks at nights and I had money in my pocket to burn.
I decided to take the T/A and a buddy of mine down with me letting my parents (Dad) drive the Catalina.
This trip involved travel down interstate I-55 and my parents enjoyed travelling at the break of dawn.
I never did have my T/A out on any long expanse of road...and although it was a terror during some stoplight showdowns, the car had a mutiple personality and I thought it time to "stretch" its' legs.
It was early in the morning on a weekday and we had just rolled a good way out of town.....all I could see was cows and corn fields.....the roads were traffic-less.
I slowly drifted way out in front of my parents until we were out of sight from one another and it was now time to run the T/A flat out.
I was rolling at about 65 MPH and went WOT......the car pulled relative hard, but it was apparent that the long-rod engine was did not like to hang around in the upper RPMs.
I was glimpsing down at the speedometer (its' accuracy unknown). At 120 MPH it seemed the engine was "out of gas".... It pushed the car just a hair passed the 130 MPH mark when all of a sudden, I head a loud "pop" and then an ear-deafening rush of air throughout the passenger compartment.
I let off the throttle and took a moment to gather my senses....we were still on the road, We didn't seem we hit anything and I was looking around during the off-throttle slow-down to assess the situation. The air and turbulence throughout the car was overpowering.
My buddy was sitting in the passenger seat staring straight ahead, with his eyes and jaw wide open. I looked past him and saw that that the passenger door glass is down.
My first thought was "dumb-ass"...what the hell did you roll the window down for...!!!
I immediately thought...how the heck could he roll the window down that fast...???....when he turned to me and said, "the window is gone..."
Here I figured granules of tempered glass strewn all over the expressway...maybe some sail panel or quarter panel damage...etc, etc.
We traveled in a semi-limp mode all the way down to our destination spot in southern Illinois.
Being miles from a GM dealer, I am now thinking...where can I get a door glass and get it installed when I had a mechanically talented Uncle snoop around the car.
Fortunately, there was no body damage sustained and I explained to my Uncle what happened. He was standing by the car looking at the belt molding(s) when he called me over to the vehicle and pointed down at the belt molding.
He pulled the belt molding back and said, "Here's your door glass".
Apparently the door glass did not leave the vehicle, but instead dropped down into the door.
My Uncle gathered some tools. pulled the door trim panel and put the door glass back in place. He adjusted the glass and I never has any problems with closure, air or water leakage. I traded my T/A in on my '74 Formula and never looked back.
The ironic thing was that my Uncle too, was foolish and defiant in his youth and knew all he needed to know to get through life until he suffered a shotgun injury that removed the index, forefinger and ring finger of his right hand.
The magic of this was to see my Uncle handle hand tools with (7) fingers with the competence and skills of a person possessing all his appendages.
The balance of my trip went without event. We did run into a little rain which would have been detrimental at expressway speeds.
Thanks, Uncle Rocky....I owe you one...!!!
PS. And to end this on a good note while in my younger youth, Uncle Rocky was the one who took me in back by the wood pile and taught me how to handle and shoot a shotgun and a hand pistol.
A first thought would be who'd want to learn about handling a firearm from a person who blew off (3) of his fingers, but every time I go near a firearm that I may handle, Uncle Rocky and a shroud of "safety first" comes to mind.....