 |
| A Nice Boring American Motors Rambler |
However, she could not drive to save her life. My Grandfather used to tell this story (which was the only one he ever told with a dirty word).
.
Zela drove to work one morning, and at Florence Blvd, sideswiped a car. She called my Ham (my Grandfather (Henry Albert Mitchell aka Ham) to come get her. She was a mess and upset. Crying and apologizing. Now they didn't have much money, but Ham knew better than to say anything right then. Instead he consoled her and got her home.
.
After a nervous day, she set off the next morning to work and, at the same intersection, she sideswiped another car (he said 2, but I think the tale grew in the telling). About this time in the story Zela would being to tell him to "hush up".
.
Well once again she called Ham, a crying mess. And once again he consoled her and got her home. Where she swore she would quit work and never drive again. Ham knew she just wanted reassurance, but he words got away from him. "You'll be fine, honey. Just take a different damn road tomorrow!"
.
Now you may say, what is a "Rambler". A "Rambler" was a horrible, heavy, slow car that was like driving an underpowered tank. Because my grandfather knew that she was such a bad driver, he always purchases slow, boring Ramblers to keep her and others on the road safe. She always resented that damn Rambler.
.
So, when he died, she was distraught. But not so distraught she didn't go out town months later a buy a V8 Impala.
 |
| The 350 HorsePower V8 72 Impala |