This post is a wild Pontiac story that began in Louisiana, and ended in Texas. There is an Olds also involved in this story. But, since a lot of Birds came with an Olds engine, I suppose that's OK, huh ?
Well, the largest city in north LA is Shreveport. Like a lot of other cities which are located close to a river, the city has a different name and government, on each side of the river. In this case, there is Shreveport on one side, and Bossier City on the other side. Our first 2 Stocker engines were built at a machine shop in Bossier city.
In our earlier years, we went to the LA State fair, which was held every year on the state fair grounds. There was a circle track there, back in the 60's. I attended several races there, including some which included 427 Fords and 426 Hemi powered cars. The only famous name I remember is Ernie Derr, who drove one of the Hemi cars. Also, on the fair grounds, was a large building, named the Hirsch Coliseum. There have been all sorts of public events held there, thru the years. My dad and I attended the boys high school basketball championship tournament there, several times during the late '60's.
https://www.google.c...rsch%20coliseum
Well, unknown to me, during this period of time there was a young man in Shreveport, who, like LOTS of southern rednecks was called "Bubba". Bubba had a business called "Jerry's Paint & Body Shop". Paint and body work was not as expensive as it is today. So, Bubba's business was not very successful. He took an old wrecked Olds, patched it up, and put a fresh paint job on it. That is the 1st car mentioned in the story. I just heard this story last night. I'll probably be able to post a link to it soon. But right now, there is no link. So, I'll tell it like I remember it.
Bubba had to go to Tulsa, OK, in the Olds. The car had LOTS of problems. One was that the front tires were shot. But Bubba had no money to replace 'em. So, he and his family headed for OK in the Olds. Along the way, a truck passed 'em. After the truck passed, they saw 2 tires bounce off the truck. The truck was a Firestone tire truck, if I remember correctly. So, Bubba stopped and picked up the tires, out of the ditch. Being honest folks, when they got to OK, they called the Firestone tire dealers, to return their tires. But, none of them reported any missing tires.
So, Bubba looked at the tires a little closer. It just so happened that the tires were exactly the size needed for the front of his Olds. So, at least Bubba knew he had some front tires that would make it back to Shreveport. Ya'll ever have any new tires, in just the right size, jump off a truck, so they could be yours ?
Then, after Bubba and his family moved to Fort Worth, TX, he moved up to a '59 Pontiac Bonneville. It was nowhere near new, but in much better condition than the Olds had been. So, again, he and his wife, along with their 2 small kids went to OK. Well, they were coming back home to Fort Worth, in the wee hours of the night. Then Bubba heard a loud sound underneath the car. Although he hadn't seen anything in the road, he assumed he had run over something, which had hit under the car, making the sound he had heard.
And he was right. But, at first, everything seemed to be alright. But then he noticed that his gas gauge was heading towards empty, fast. He figured that whatever had made the sound had knocked a hole in his gas tank. And he was right. There was a gash several inches long, which drained all the gas from the tank. So, here's Bubba--middle of the night, family in the car, broke down on the side of the road. No cell phones, no traffic. What's he gonna do ?
Well, he decided that it would not be a good idea to leave his wife and kids there, and walk for help. So, he decided to try and flag down some help, if anybody came by. Well, he finally saw some headlights coming down the road, so he started flagging the vehicle down. Well, it appeared to be a man in a pickup, which pulled right in behind Bubba. Bubba told him the situation. The reply was "That's what I'm here for".
Well, he hooked a chain to the Pontiac and pulled it back to a small town a few miles down the road. Out near the main highway, there was a small cafe, with a small service station, beside it. So, the guy pulled the car up to the station, turned on the lights, and he and Bubba pushed the Pontiac inside. The guy repaired the tank, filled it up with gas, but wouldn't accept a dime from Bubba, in payment for the work or the gas. He just said again "That's what I'm here for". So, Bubba thanked him, and they drove on back to Fort Worth.
Later on, Bubba was on another trip to OK, and decided to stop in at the station to thank the man again for what he had done for them. But he found that the service station was closed, and looked like it hadn't been used in years. But the cafe was still open. So, he went inside to inquire about the man that had helped him. They didn't know who Bubba was talking about, and told him that the service station had been closed for many years, and there had been no gas in those pumps for a long time, nor any electricity hooked up to the building.
So, who do ya'll suppose helped Bubba that night ? Who was driving the truck ? Who turned on the lights, without electricity ? Who fixed the tank and filled it up, from dry pumps ? Any ideas ?
I know !
