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A Special Level of Stupid


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A high school friend had a restored '47 or '48 four door Ford sedan that was painted baby blue. We went just about everywhere in that thing. One Saturday, he and I and a couple of other friends piled in and headed for South Padre Island for a little beach time. We were pretty close to Port Isabel when we started hearing a knock in the engine. The knock got louder and louder and steam started coming out of the engine compartment. Finally, the old vacuum windshield wipers made two or three swipes, then the engine just shut down.


Luckily, there was a house ahead on the other side of the road, but nobody answered when we knocked on the door. We couldn't see anyone through the screen door. We called out, “Anybody home?” Still no answer. Then we got stupid and just walked in. After a few minutes a lady came out of the back of the house and was startled by the sight of four strange teenage boys standing in her living room. She was surprisingly gracious and offered the use of her telephone to call for help. The friend who owned the car called his Dad who came and rescued us. Dodged a bullet on that one.

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