Unlucky Garage

I promised, in an earlier post, to relate to you the easy way of driving a car through the back of a garage. I had forgotten this pledge until my lovely mother  reminded me of it and how angry the incident had made her. So, as promised, the easy way to drive through a garage  wall.

As I may have mentioned, when I eventually got my driver's license my Mom was kind enough to supply me with a Chevrolet Chevette to drive. For those too young to remember, a Chevette was a hatchback vehicle, mine was a four door stick shift. It had seen better days but still ran just fine and was more car than a lot of kids had.

The Chevette gave me mobility and also helped out my Mom. My Dad had passed away shortly before I got my license. As a matter of fact, my uncle took me to take my license test the day of my Dad's funeral. I guess they thought it would take my mind off Dad's death. It didn't but was a nice gesture. I have four siblings and they needed ferrying about. Having a second driver in the family was helpful.

A license and car gave me kind of a big head. I had the power and wasn't afraid to use it. In my defense, having four arguing kids wrestling in the back seat was disconcerting in a car that weighed hardly more than those four children. A firm hand was necessary. I also understood, then, why my Dad used to get so hot when we argued behind him.

When one of these arguments was going on, we were on our way home from town and the car was rocking back and forth on the road from all the silliness going on in the back. I had already warned the yahoos  several times and the wrestling kept up. Finally, much like my Dad, I lost my temper and pulled over about a mile from home. I ordered everyone out. They were stunned into submission. Everyone climbed out and I took off. They made it home about twenty minutes later and never failed to calm down when asked nicely afterwords.

My sister, Barb, was closest to me in age. Only eighteen months younger, she was determined that I not have things my own way very often. As the oldest girl, she was a strong supporter of rank based on seniority. One day coming home from somewhere with Barb in the passenger seat, I was pulling into our "garage."

The garage was an open faced shed structure built to the side of another shed on the property. It was essentially a three sided pole barn. The barn columns were telephone poles and horizontally installed two by fours provided a means to attach corrugated steel for siding. It was a nice way to keep the rain and snow off the car parked inside.

As I pulled up to the garage, I noticed a bicycle laying on the concrete slab inside. In the interest of convenience, mine, I told Barb to go move the bicycle. She promptly told me where to stick it. We argued for a minute and then, disgusted but unwilling to leave the car and lose face, I opened my door and leaned out. I leaned out as far as I could but couldn't reach so I stuck one foot our the door, intending, I suppose, to kick the bicycle out of the way. Slowly, I released the clutch and the car rolled forward. I kicked the bike and depressed the clutch.

The thing about a clutch is that it removes the motive power of the engine from the wheels. It is not however, a brake. The car kept rolling toward the back of the shed. If nothing else had happened, I probably would have bumped the back wall and that would be the end of it. Nothing else did not happen.

 As the back wall eased toward us, I had the bright idea to use the brake. To do this, I had to release the clutch. Remember the leg hanging outside? If you have never driven a stick shift, it is important to know that two legs are required to make the system work.

The other thing about a clutch is that when released, the engine re-engages with the tires and the car moves forward. Brakes don't work well when fighting against an engine. It didn't really matter whether the brakes worked or not though. I had missed the brake pedal in my panic and stomped on the gas pedal.

The end result was that the car fairly leaped at the back wall and through it before I got my leg back in the car and applied both brake and clutch appropriately. The front of the car and the tires promptly dropped off the back of the concrete slab and stopped.

That is the easy way to drive through a garage wall.

Luckily, the tires did grab the edge of the slab and the car moved back onto the slab. The two by four holding the siding wasn't destroyed, only pulled loose. The car had a minor scratch on the fender. The siding was kinked but not totally ruined. I patched it all up in less than an hour.

Mom was pretty hot, as I mentioned already but calmed down when she realized little permanent damage was done. There were some new ground rules concerning the driver and passenger responsibilities after that too.

 Another positive note is that I got another little story out of the experience. Lucky me. Unlucky garage.