History Stories relating to towing incidents (What was i thinking)

When I was about 17, I towed a 1960 Chrysler Royal (think mid 50's Plymouth) on a trailer , using my Royal on the Freeway. I bought the car as a spares supply, it was all there, but pretty rough. Never having towed anything before (and thinking "She'll be right- what can go wrong?", we headed off, got on the freeway, and I let her rip. At about 50 MPH, the trailer started swaying side to side, pulling the back of the car with it. I managed to get it to slow down and under control, and then we stopped to see what it could have been (I now reckon I had it pointing backwards, so most of the weight was behind the trailer axle).
After cleaning out the pile that was deposited in my undies, we drove back, about 50 miles, at about 25 MPH.

 

My deceased former neighbor was always buying something and I always had to help him get it home. His brother in law had a homebuilt trailer we used sometimes, but it was heavy as hell and all my little 'Yota wanted to pull empty, much less with a car on it, even after I put a Buick V6 in it, it was still too small to tow with. I was hauling firewood for myself regularly too, so I needed a bigger truck. Ended up with a 84 F150 4X4, 351W, that thing would pull a house down. Right after I got it, he bought a 1955 Ford F100, no engine or trans, and I again got elected to help him get it home. Couldn't get the trailer, so we decide to pull it the 25 miles or so with a chain. I hook it to the 55, he hooks the other end to my truck. Brakes on the 55 are good, but dragging a bit, but my 84 drags it off no problem in high 4x4. Start down the two lane state highway, I shift out of 4wd, pulling good. Then we get into some rolling hills, he gains a bit on me going down, then when the slack gets out of the chain, I get a jerk and I'm pulling again. This goes on for a few hills, then all the sudden, I'm pulling away from him going up hill? WTF? Then, going down the other side, I let off just like I had been doing to let him pull me down with his brakes, I notice he's gaining on me, FAST! I punch the 351 and pull away from him and notice the chain is flopping around on the road, then it goes under his left front tire, instantly locking it up, sending him to the other side of the road, and then onto the shoulder, barely missing the ditch before it slides to a stop. I make a quick turn around and go back to get him, he's white as a piece of cotton. Used my truck to nudge the 55 back off of the chain, and I go to hook it back up to my truck, I notice one of my exhaust pipes is hanging lower than the other. Now, I had a heavy ass home made bumper on that truck made out of 1/4" plate and angle, with places to hook a chain. Where did he hook it? To my exhaust pipe hanger! I hook the chain to the bumper and we made it home without any further problems. After that, I always double checked after him when he hooked up the trailer, tied down a car, or hooked a chain.

 

For about the last fifty years ive been towing and hauling almost everything imaginable. Drove semi hauling earthmovers and loads grossing 160,000 pounds. The thing is your tow vehicle needs to be much heavier than what you are towing. And don't get in a big hurry. But things happen. I bought a 64 chevelle body at Bono Ar. Red hardtop originally a 283 &4 speed. It was a roller no engine or trans. So I decide I will tow it on a tow bar behind my 63 chevy Pk. Ive got a lot of weight in the bed. hook the tow bar up aand it will not follow. no engine. So I have my dad with me. he will drive my Pk and I will steer the chevelle. As soon as he hits Hwy 63 he drives 60MPH never looks back. The pack rats had carried leaves and other debris into the floorboards. And suddenly I realize there is a snake moving around by my feet. All I can see is a black tip of its tail. Im thinking copperhead. I have the window down and get up in the seat frantically waving my arm trying to get my dad to stop. He aint looking eventually the snake moves enough I can see it better. Its a harmless king snake. I just set back down and steered. I had a job driving a single axle dump truck. 6-71 Detroit 10 speed air brakes. and I was pulling a tandem axle ten wheel trailer. No brakes on the trailer. hauling a 580c Case Backhoe. Any way I had just completed a job and was loading the backhoe. The truck and trailer was in a slight grade. As I was backing on the trailer the trailer scooted the truck just enough that the engine started. I wasn't aware the truck had worn out wedge brakes. So there the truck goes down the hill and the hill gets steeper. I shift the backhoe into third gear and flat on the floor steering with my left hand use my right hand to unlatch the boom and reach out and grab the back of the trailer with the hoe bucket. stopped it about 8 feet from a big tree. My fault I should have chocked the wheels. One time I had a 67 GMC on a wrecker sling. Had it lifted from the front bumper. And a wheel bearing was bad and the entire axle tire went flying and bouncing past me. Went across the Highway into the woods . It took a bit of searching to find it. Just this month the 14th. I went to a auction at Paragould Ark. Drove my 1/2 ton 66 GMC. Bought a huge quanity of chain link fence heavy pipe post and other fence hardware. I loaded all the poor little Jimmy could haul and made it home Ok. The next Am I unloaded it and hooked to my stock trailer. Went fully intending on making two trips. and I got there and started loading and kept loading and decided it could all be done in one load. and I get it all crammed in the trailer and stacked in the Pk bed. The GMC has a SM 420 Muncie granny four speed , 250 six cyl engine and 336 rear gears. So I take off and the poor little truck cant pull that load in 4th gear. So I drive 40 some miles in third and sometimes second gear all the way home. Now the trailer brakes don't work. And I know I can fade the drum brakes if I use them any great amount. So I drive like I don't have any brakes. Made it home Ok. Still need to unload the trailer. And my stock trailer has 30 year old 8 ply bias rough tread tires. My Pk has 16 inch 14 ply bias tires on split rims.

 

Another one and involves my wife. Christmas time 1979 I buy a 66 chevelle 4 dr htp. No windshield doesn't run carb missing ect. Its winter and freezing weather. We decide to just drag it home on a chain its only 8 miles. So we take our 66 F600 ford truck and a twenty foot chain. We get there and my wife decides she wants to steer the car. So she puts on my coveralls and we take off. Our two eldest sons 5 and 7 years old are looking out the back glass. They say moms still smiling. Im looking in the rear view mirror. I know that penis shriveling look! We are doing 40 Mph and the wind chill must be pretty bad. and no windshield or glasses. We make it home and as we slow down Debbie steps out and lets the chevelle run under the rear of the truck. It was a perfect front cap now its ruined. I get the silent treatment for a long time.

 

Not me but a bloke I worked with. He's gone to pick up a boom lift/cherry picker on a low loader (float we call them here in Australia). The prime mover is a R model Mack which didn't have the trailer brakes coming on with the maxis. As he drives the boom lift up the ramps, it lifts the bogey drive off the ground enough to start the whole rig on a downhill freefall. Now if you've ever loaded one of these you'll know you have to raise the platform up a bit or they did into the ground as it goes up the ramp. So he's 10 foot up in the air getting a bird's eye view of the parked cars the truck is colliding with on it's way downhill and after the third collision he get's his wits about himself and drives the boom lift off the ramps which drops the back of the truck back to earth and stops any further carnage. Luckily no one was injured except his pride and his undies. This bloke had been doing this sort of work for years so it just goes to show it can happen to anyone.
I was only starting out truck driving at the time so it taught me an important lesson. Put the trailer brakes on and even to this day if I'm loading a car onto a trailer on a slope, chock the trailer wheels or get you mate to sit in the tow vehicle with a foot on the brake until you're up the ramps.
Mind you, I was one of many pissing ourselves laughing when he told the story.

 

WHOA AND DAMN!!!!!!!!Bruce.

 

I was going back to college one Sunday afternoon. The Camaro dies outside of Slayton. I"m in the middle of nowhere. Finally, a someone stops to help. The ONLY guy to stop for over an hour. An undocumented, inebriated visitor from the south. He takes me to town, gets a guy to open the parts place (blue law in Texas at the time) I buy a set of points, go back, (at high speed in a car full of dirty diapers, flies and Bud cans). Go back to the car, replace the points. No joy. The car won"t start. I have an 8 foot chain. We gonna tow that baby to town. I have about three feet between me and mi salvador. I have done this a lot, figure no problem, we go slow, arrive alive. We take off, and by take off, I mean just that. The car is a stick, so I'm in neutral. I look down and yes, we really are going 85 MPH. I'm so close to the dude that I cant see the rear bumper, let alone the license plate. The it hits me. I have chained my car to a Mexicano borracho. Yee Haw. But we got to town, I called my dad, who drove 150 miles to replace the cracked rotor I couldn't see. I was more scared of him than the trip I just made. I always was grateful for the several lessons I learned that night. One was to remember the story of the Good Samaritan. The other was to reflect on the fact that you better make sure he wont ride that donkey at 85 MPH.

 

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My story involves my dad and a Camaro too.
I was driving from Canton Ohio to Muskegon Mi for Christmas in my frankeinstein '68 Camaro - 283, truck tranny, Earl Scheib paint job. Fresh rebuilt motor started knocking and I pulled off the road about 150 miles from home.
Called my dad and he drove out with his '76 Ford Elite (think Torino) and a 15 foot tow strap. So here we go, dad's pulling me down the road and I'm freezing, no heat in a drafty old car, trying to keep the tow strap tight and not run up his tailpipe. Right down the interstate at 65 mph, about half way there I ran over the tow strap, ripped it in half, and jerked dad' car about sideways.
We tied the strap up and went the rest of the way on the back roads. Rebuilt the motor the again but could never get the rear main seal to stop leaking.


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After many a mishap and close call towing with ropes and chains, me and my brother started pushing dead cars home. They had to have good brakes and be preferably registered and insured just in case. Just strap a tire on the push car so it was protected.

One day in a cold winter, his '74 Galaxie beater split a radiator coming home from Grumman. He calls me at work and I meet him where the car died, all he had to do was dig up a tire and some rope. I'm driving a '68 Chevy Custom Coupe that I used to tow a stock trailer with.

The deal was that he would drive his car in front of me until it got hot, he would put it in neutral and motion me up to push. The ride home was about 12 miles. We used hand signals so I could back off for turns and when stop lights came up. But he wasn't expecting to be pushed up to 65 mph. Back at my garage, he gets out and kisses the ground. Things looked good from where I was sitting.

 

Back in 1994 I bought a steel 1940 Willys Cpe. it was an old Hot Rod cover car.It was rode hard and put away wet type of car. It was a mechanical diaster. One day after working on it I took it out for a road beat,well I didn't get to far and the trans blew, so I walked home and got my then 15 year old son to tow me home with his quad,Big Mistake ! He stopped and I didn't and caved in my hood when it hit the bar on the back of his Quad.

 

Back in the summer of 1982 my dad called me up and invited me on a fishing trip in Montana with his buddies. His buddies were business associates and all Texas, millionaire, good-ol-boy, construction business guys who were more out to have a good time than to do any fishing. I had zero chance of getting out of going, so I went along.
One of the guys had a gigantic motorhome that we rode in each day between hotel stops. The guy also had a fairly hammered Willys Jeep that was attached to the motorhome with a tow bar.
It was easy to forget about that little Jeep while riding along in the motorhome and no one was paying much attention to anything except having a good ol' time on the road.
After driving a few days we finally stopped to fish somewhere near the Flathead National Forest and the Jeep was driven around a bit.
Early the next day we were driving to a new location and I was sitting drinking a cup of coffee looking out the window of the motorhome as we drove down the two lane, rural Montana highway. Everyone else other than the driver was napping.
Suddenly, I saw a vehicle try to pass us on the left, but it instead veered into a church parking lot and collided violently with several parked cars. Oh, yeah... it was Sunday morning.
It was quite a scene of dust and carnage, but since we were traveling along at about 60 miles per hour it all disappeared behind us. Because of the road sound the collision was quite muted. The driver of the motorhome instantly knew what had happened. Of course, everyone woke up as he hollered "SON OF A B*TCH!" and hit the brakes. I vividly remember him saying, "THE G-DAMN JEEP!"
We turned around on the highway and headed back up the hill to the church and the scene of the carnage. By this time, everyone who was in the church's worship service had exited to find out what the giant crash was outside the church.
I stayed in the motorhome and observed for the first part of the "investigation," but I could see that the scene was a combination of some REALLY pissed-off people who were forced to be kind and forgiving since they were at church and my dad's friends who felt bad, but also had enough insurance to cover it all. The danger was that they were a little too calm once it was determined that no one was injured.
The local police came rather quickly, insurance information was exchanged and we were on our way to the next fishing spot sooner than one would have expected.
The Jeep was totally destroyed, so it was towed away with the other cars that it attacked. All in all it probably totaled three cars and did significant damage to another two or three. It looked like it hit and then flipped up over the first car(s) it hit before continuing on into the next row of cars.
The first part of that day was a bit quieter than the others, but soon it was something to be laughed about. It's nice to have lot's of money...
That incident sort of triggered a "let's head home" thought in my dad's head, so we caught a plane in Great Falls, MT. and flew back to Texas the next day.
I imagine that Sam, his brother Abner and the other guy still had a great time for the remainder of the trip...

Next time... The rear, tandem wheels leave the rock-n-roll band's tour bus on I-30 in deep east Texas.
or... Don't trust budget truck repair garages to tighten the lug nuts after putting a new rear end in the bus.

 

Sounds like a feller named Murphy has been a ride along guest with you folks.
Good luck.Have fun.Be safe.
Leo

 

Hello,

When I was 13, I was given the job of steering an old Model A from a lady’s backyard out into the street and lining it up behind my brother’s 51 Olds. We had just bought the Model A from a neighbor and had to tow it home, about 8 blocks away. After my brother hooked up the fat tow rope to his 51 Olds sedan and to the Model A, he started out slowly. He did not give me any instructions about braking or safe distance. Just…"keep the rope tight." What the hell does that mean to a 13 year old kid? For the next few blocks, the Model A gently followed the 51 Olds, keeping the rope tight. But, when he slowed down and then accelerated, the rope had slack and bang, the rope stretched out and whacked the bumpers. It sounded like a whip on a piece of metal. This went on for the remaining blocks until we came to a major intersection. We had to cross a major street and that was the trickiest thing I have ever done in a car.

He said again, "keep the rope tight" and if we get stopped by the police, let him do the talking. We started across the street and bang, the rope did its thing again. But, my brother kept going and I realized by then, how to keep the rope tight by applying the brakes slightly and letting the 51 Olds just pull the Model A. We did not get stopped by the police and the only thing left was to make two turns, a left and a right to get home. On each turn, I kept stepping on the brakes, but when we were straightened out, I let go to start smoothly rolling. When the next corner came up, I saw the red brake lights and immediately stepped on the Model A brake pedal again. But, it was a "caution" brake pedal light from my brother and he immediately started going forward as I braked. Guess what, another huge bang and almost pulled the rope apart and the bumper off.

He finally pulled into the driveway and expected me to follow him right through the narrow opening and stop behind him in the backyard. I guess I was good enough to have learned how to handle this Model A by now. I actually made a perfect trail between the houses and into the backyard. The rope? I ran over it with both wheels, then stopped. What an ordeal.

Jnaki

 

(Disclaimer: I'm aware of 1964 cut-off date and the pic is of my '68 Chevy and I respect that...a story is a story-please delete if necessary)
In about 1977, I had a 10 yr old Camaro. I liked to drink a little back then and had a love/hate relationship with my father. The alternator was weak on the car and needed a new one. I had just gotten into another fight with my dad, so I left and went to a local bar, the Log Cabin Inn (W.Va. right?) When l went to leave around midnight, the car wouldn't start and I had call dad to jump me 'cause no one had jumper cables. Dad showed up in his '68 Chevy pick-up (a CST he almost bought new)with battery cables and a 30 foot log chain. We fought again and I said just jump start me. The car started and I hauled ass out of there before he could catch me. I drove to another bar about 15 miles away. I left about 3 o'clock in the morning with the same scenario, my car wouldn't start and no one had cables. So....I called dad again to come jump me. He showed up but this time it was too dead to jump. We hooked up the old log chain (no pipe, just a chain) to both vehicles. He then proceeded to drag me the 15 miles back to home at about 50-60 mph!!! I kept hitting the brakes to slow us down and he'd speed up! I used to 'borrow' this truck in the middle of the night to go party. I learned to drive on this truck and he gave it to me a few years ago. I have a life time of stories with this truck and I will not sell it!! ( Yes, she's in the garage, now, pic is of a quick snow shower)

 

In the early 60s,towing the stockcar to the track an back was some times as crazy as the races. My older trailer we had to used again one nite,do to flat on good one. We made it to races Ok,but on the way home as we were coming up to one of the many farmstands[watermelons, along the road at about 60 mph,right side wheel left our old one axle trailer. Sparks like the 4 of july an got it stop maybe 1/8 passed the watermelon stand. Didn't have a spair for older trailer,so had to go look for the wheel on no moon nite @ about 2am. Cant find it ,looking for something to give a hint. Get to farmstand,and the giant watermelon sign now has a big hole dead center of the painted melon,Oppps,at lest thats a hint the path it want in. Following the line,trail goes back to the shed an piles of what was stacks of nice melons,now just smashed ozzzzs. Back of shed is now gone,but found tire an back panel of shed about 10ft. away. Happy they were not open at 2am,but it was kind of opened up now,got tire an hightailed out of there.lucky two lugs still worked to get home with. Always felt bad for the farmer,stopped to buy corn or any thing he was selling I could use after that when passing by in the day,but never could fess up.

 

One comes to mind, when we were taking my son Matt’s 35 Pickup to the paint shop on a car trailer , we were early so I thought lets undo all the straps to save a bit of time, the time comes and the gate gets opened and we drive up the steep driveway ramp Ooops, the pickup went rolling of the back of the trailer and we just got it stopped before it hit the brick wall of the building opposite, Matt was not happy with me (grin)

 

Got 1 more towing story for you. Back in the day. I had just bought a 1965 chevy Impala{I thought I was the cats ass when I got that baby.LOL} Beautiful black interior. The lady I had bought it from had hit a deer with it so it needed a grill, hood latch, and a radiator. Again my brother now driving his 57 chevy convertible we had towed home a few weeks ago was towing me home. Well like I said the hood latch had been taken off so the P.O could open the hood .I though the hood was heavy enough to stay down. My brother was towing me at a good speed{with a chain again} when we crossed over a interstate bridge and he really speeded up. Then BLAM the hood on the chevy came flying up right against the windshield{ I don't know how it didn't bust the windshield but it didn't and I couldn't see a thing. Here I am sticking my head out the window screaming at my brother to stop while again hes guzzling down some Minny Millers beers. He finally heard me and stopped.We tied the hood down and got it home. I tired to get a radiator from a junk yard but the darn guy want to sell me the whole front clip. So that night my friend and I snuck back over the junk yard fence{even though the sign said guard dogs on duty} and I started to unbolt the radiator. My buddy said did you hear that growling? I said no. Well turns out the 2 guard dogs were living under this chevy . I was trying to get the radiator out of and they came crawling out after us. We hauled ass for the fence leaving our tools behind us. My buddy made it over the fence o.k. Me I was just climbing up the fence when 1 of the dogs grabbed the lower part of my bell bottom pants{this shows you how long ago this was. lol.}Ripping it right up past my knee, but I made it over the fence. I kept those pants for years to teach me a lesson. I still remember my mom asking me. What happened to these pants when she was doing wash? The things we learn. It doesn't pay to steal!!!Bruce . P.S. I did finally get a radiator and my friend had a G.T.O. grill I installed that looked close to a chevy.Bruce.

 

Don't ever try to tow landscape trailer filled with old rotors and drums behind a RAV4. That's all I have to say about that.

It's wasn't me. lol I know what an unsafe tow is.

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Without naming anyone in particular, we now have sufficient evidence that a lot of people out there should be forever banned from touching a chain again.

 

Here`s another one of those"Oh Shit"deals.Fellow passed me towing an early 50`s Dodge,using one of those crappy tow bars that just clamped onto the front bumper.He got about 200 ft past me and my buddy when the front bumper came off.Yep,things got a little interesting for a little bit.
Good luck.Have fun.Be safe.
Leo

 

A friend bought a car and a new trailer to haul it with but he had trouble with his truck so he needed it towed to where he was storing it about 20 miles away. Another friend was towing it and I rode along. It was in the winter after work so it was dark. We hooked up to the trailer, checked that the car was tied down securely and towed it to the location which included about 15 miles down an interstate highway. We get to the location and the owner is there to take it off the trailer. He asks where the ramps are. They were double thickness 2x12s with cleats on them and threaded rods sticking through them that go through holes in the trailer. There was a slot in the bed to hold them and the rods were expected to keep them from sliding out. They must have fallen out on the trip. The owner says "I wonder where those fell out". I told him I didn't want to know.

 

Well I could tell towing stories 'till hell won't have 'em with me and mrs. 'beaner alone. That woman started dragging me around when we were 16.

Unless you are @Rocky you, may have to go to https://www.google.com/maps/@39.3032284,-94.2089235,8z to really appreciate this.

When we were still living in Oregon we bought a '64 Impala in Tillamook. Oregon that was sans an engine. We lived in Forest Grove, Oregon and could make the drive in about an hour back then. It was over the Cascade Mountains. and a lot of it was a crooked as a snake. I digress, the guy wanted 40 dollars for the car and I decided to haggle uh for about an hour. Got him down to 35 dollars. LOL

Well it was nearing sundown and Mrs. Beaner wanted to get home before the sun set or at least out of the mountains, so we hooked the chain onto the Chevy and behind the Merc and she just said, "Follow me." Uh duh, right? Well she layed into the old MEL in the Merc and it was a white knuckle drive for me all the way home. We rolled into the driveway in about 40 minutes (maybe 45) just as the sun was setting. She was unhooking the chain as I shook my britches out.

We were walking around the Chevy and talking about it when I noticed that one of the front wheels looked funny and gave it a kick. The car fell down with a thud. I threw a bumper jack on it to see what was wrong. Busted spindle, she just laughed and said, "Well its a good thing to saved that 5 dollars."

 

This is a boat towing tale. My brother was going with his friend and his friend's dad to launch a 16' boat at a local ramp. They were about 14 or so. The kid's dad was one of those careful people so this surprised me. They were about 1/2 way there and the boat and trailer passes them on the right, crossed in front of them and winds up on the shoulder on the opposite side of the street.

Amazing that nobody hit the boat or trailer. They were able to get it hooked back up and were back on their way. As we got older we realized how much entertainment there was at the local boat ramp on a nice Friday evening. We would go with a 12-pack and lawn chairs, sit back and enjoy the show. Eventually they squashed our fun, you had to be a boat owner and show a town permit just to get close to the ramp.

 

Something never change, fast forward about 40 years (five or six years ago). We are on 350 highway in Raytown, MO during rush hour. We had gassed up and she left before I did and was about 2 blocks ahead of me when the distributer let go on the Pusher. I pulled off on the left shoulder (divided highway) and was climbing out of the truck when here she comes backing up through traffic. Funny but everyone was getting out of her way.

I round the front of the truck as she climbs out of her truck and throws the pull chain at me, and says, "Hook 'em up so I am not late for work!!" I knew I was in for a ride. We are hooked up and she hollers,"Follow me," as she is climbing into her truck. Next thing I know I hear her horn honking as she is dragging me catty corner through traffic toward an intersection. Again everyone is just getting out of her way.

We get home and she says, "Lost your distributer didn't you" "I think so." "yea I heard it let go"

She's nuts you know.

 

I know another guy who used to tow 3 dirt bikes and a quad with a first generation Scion xB. I still don't believe it but there are enough witnesses to prove it true. This was from Oxford NJ, to Trevorton PA. Having done that drive a bunch myself I asked him, "how did you handle those roads with the crazy inclines?" The answer was, "going up them was actually not bad, coming down was fine as long as I kept ramming gears down it's throat." lol I know a few crazies.


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Beaner, its sounds like you found yourself a good one. Great stories

 

Wouldn't she have to be nuts to be with you?

Those remind me of one of my stock car racing friends back in the early 70s. They were hauling their car on a 50s vintage International truck to a track about 60 miles from home. It was getting late so they were pushing the old binder pretty hard. They were about 20 miles from the track when the engine let go. One of the late model teams comes by and offers to tow them to the track. All they had on the old International truck that wasn't holding the car down was a rope that had been used to tie loads of hay on so they tied the trucks together. Without the engine running there wouldn't be any vacuum for the brakes so Dave left it in third to use the clutch to help slow it down. The guys pulling him had a chevy one ton with the 427 that had been in the race car when they changed to a 454. They took off and Dave said the speedometer in the Binder went up to 90 then broke and he white knuckled it as the truck wandered it's way to the track. When Dave got out of the truck at the track, he was as white as his coveralls.

The guy driving the other truck was talking about it at the tavern after the race telling how Dave had an arm out the window trying to get him to slow down and the three of them laughing about it. They had to get to the track by a certain time or start in the back.

 

I had a 63 impala SS lowrider back in 93-94 and I was driving back with some friends about thirty miles on a highway. Now when I bought this car it was sitting for years in a shed and I never replaced the lug bolts on the car so I bet you know what's going too happen next the bolts broke on the left rear all of them, the car slammed down on the right and sparks are flying lucky it was on the back so I had control of the car and steered it too the left median of the road and brought it to a stop.
Now I jump out my friends jump out and the wheel keeps rolling down the highway.
One of my friends runs out in the middle of the highway too fetch the wheel and a semi is barrowling down on him luckily he got the wheel and brought it too the shoulder.
One of my other friend walks too a gas station too call a tow truck since cell phones weren't around yet.
Now the tow truck shows up and positions itself inline too my car and its a old fashion tow truck( no flatbed).
He's fiddling with the straps and chains and all of a sudden the strap gives way and slams into back of the impala and makes a big
V shape dent in the back of my trunk. Then he says "that's never happened before" so I was pissed but kept my cool because I still needed too be towed. Long story short he got me back too my house and didn't charge for towing and gave me a card with company name on it for damages .
Never did fix that trunk!!!!!

 

Since I know that you are all on pins and needles wondering about the band's tour bus... Here is the story of some goofy, young, long-haired rock musicians and the wheels that got away.

A band that I played in back in the late '70s needed better transportation for our equipment, so the two McDaniel brothers who played in the band bought a school bus.
We all laughed because it looked EXACTLY like the bus The Partridge Family drove around in on their TV show except without the Mondrian-style paint job.
The fifteen year-old bus was an early '60s ('62?) GMC with a Wayne Coach body. Of course, we immediately named the bus... WAYNE.
Wayne was in fair mechanical shape and we made trips around Texas in it for a few months before the "tire(s) incident" occurred.

We had traveled from Dallas to Shreveport, Louisiana to play at club called The Circle in the Square (Shreveport rock-n-roll folks should remember that place.)
While tooling-around Shreveport one day the bus suddenly ceased to go forward any longer.
I recall jumping out and looking under the bus to see the drive shaft spinning, but no action beyond that. I had more of an idea of what was inside the differential than anyone else in the band since I had re-built a '29 Ford from the ground up in high school and had read hot rod and car magazines since I was a kid.
It didn't take long before everyone realized Wayne was going to have to be towed (!!!!$$$!!!!) to a shop.
So, the next day the guy at the shop gave us the bad news... New rear end (!!!!!!$$$$$!!!!!!)
After a brief discussion between ourselves we decided that we could offer the guy what we had earned playing over the four days at the club.
He was a nice guy and said he could do the job for that amount.
OK, we were going to be broke for a week, but at least there was a plan.

Somehow we all got back to Dallas, but we had to leave Wayne at the shop and all of our gear (except for guitars) at the club.
For a reason that I can't remember now, the McDaniel Brothers picked the bus up and drove it back to Dallas. Maybe it was a test drive?
We had a gig the next week in Kilgore, TX, so the plan was to drive back to Shreveport in now repaired Wayne, pick up our equipment and back track to Kilgore, Texas. A 450 mile plus trip.

So, four of us jumped in Wayne and headed out of Dallas towards Shreveport.
It was three 21 to 25 year-old guys driving along the interstate in the empty bus, shooting the breeze. We were a ways past the Kilgore exit...
Suddenly, the left rear side of the bus seemed to hit a "bump" and there was sort of a WHUMP.
Ronnie was driving and he must have immediately looked in the mirror and saw the source of the "bump" and the WHUMP sound.
He hollered, "OH, NO! OUR TIRE CAME OFF!"
I remember looking out and seeing the tire heading across the grass median at a speed faster than we were traveling.
Ronnie let off the gas and said the famous words, "If that tire came off. What is holding..."
WHUMP!!! SCRRRRRRAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEE!!!!!! ROOOOAAAAARRRRR!!!!!!
Nothing was holding the second tire on and it was off following it's mate!

I remember half worrying about the tires crossing the median and half worrying about us scraping to a stop on the shoulder.
So, now four wide-eyed, long hairs jump out of the bus to survey the damage and collect our breaths.
Chuck, who owned half of the bus with his older brother, was looking up the interstate and said, "That truck driver is waving his arms at us."
Me, I was thinking we had killed someone with our tires.
Chuck and Steve took off running down the highway. Ronnie and I stayed behind.

After about fifteen minutes we could see Chuck and Steve waving their arms motioning us to come join them.
Well, damned if they weren't rolling the two bus tires back down the interstate!
The truck driver had seen where the two tires left the opposite side of the highway and entered the piney woods. He gave them a clue where to look.
It was crazy enough that they found the tires, but the insane part is that ALL OF THE LUG NUTS WERE LYING IN THE RIM OF THE TIRE WHERE IT CAME TO A STOP!
I guess centrifugal force held them against the rim until the tire rolled to a stop?

It wasn't too long before a big tow truck came along and the guy assessed the situation, jacked up the rear of the bus, put on the tires and tightened down the lug nuts.
We stood on the side of the interstate while Ronnie tested Wayne out and it appeared to be OK.
We jumped in and took off for Shreveport.
I guess we were only delayed for an hour and a half.
What had happened? Oh, the repair shop forgot to tighten down the lug nuts when they repaired the rear end.
It was a small miracle that the wheels stayed on for the 250 mile trip from Shreveport to Dallas and half way back.
BTW... The repair shop reimbursed us for the tow truck that put the tires back on.
Momma' McDaniels' was the McDaniel brother's mom and you didn't mess with her or her sons.
PERIOD!
This was all a long time ago, but for years all four of us could tell you the mile marker where this took place. I have passed it many times over the years.
There was also a long scar from Waynes rear bumper in the surface of the interstate from the right lane and onto the shoulder that remained for quite a few years, too.
Wayne's rear bumper always bore that scar as a reminder.

Interestingly enough, we drove Wayne for two years with an inspection sticker that was out-of-date by at least four years. I'm pretty sure Wayne wouldn't have passed inspection.
The brothers kept Wayne parked on the side of their mom's house in the driveway for at least ten years after the band broke up. Eventually, Wayne was hauled away.
Wayne was a good bus.