Choir was to sing at early service (8:30) and late service (10:50). I gave my all and left about 7:45 in the Marauder.
As I entered Corsicana, I heard a "pop" from what I thought was under the hood. Just what I need. I continued to drive and watch all the gauges. There was this whapping noise. The noise went faster as I went faster. The noise went slower as I slowed. I watched my gauges. Nothing changed, the noise continued.
I turned left and crossed over the railroad track. There was a thump as I cleared the tracks. Then, silence. No more whapping noise. My brain said to me, "It was not an engine noise." Maybe I was dragging something like a tumbleweed - I have done that more than once in the Panhandle. That would not explain the rhythmic noise though.
I parked at church - went inside and did my Easter choir duty for the 8:30 session. Released around 9:30, I made my way back to the car to read the paper for an hour or so. I don't do Sunday School since that time the SS teacher spent the entire lesson rambling about death, dying, her experiences with family deaths, and everyone wanting to hug at the end. THAT is not for me.
My right rear tire was almost flat to the ground and I was parked on an incline. Quickly I moved to find a level parking space. I own a portable air compressor which is kept in the trunk. I whipped out that rascal and gave the tire 10 minutes of fresh, new air. The tire aired up. Plan: sing next service, if tire holds, re-air it up and head for home. If not, change the tire.
It held. I refilled it to the max & headed out; did I mention that I had found a nail in the tire. I drove about halfway home to the Chocolate Factory (a good place to visit). Tire was still up. Ran the car for home.
About a mile or so from the house, on a curve naturally, the tire gave up the Ghost, to use an Easter expression. I found a nice area beside the road, grass had been mowed (no bluebonnets left). It took a while to get the car jack right & up the car went. When the tire left the ground, I removed the lug nuts, pulled on the tire, and nothing happend. Huh?
Just at that moment I noticed the jack sinking into the ground at an angle. Back on went the lug nuts as fast as my fingers would work. Why wouldn't the tire come off? I called my wife to bring me a 2 by 6 to put under the jack. She did. I rejacked. Off with the lug nuts. Pull on the tire. It would not move. I kicked it, I hit it - no swearing though.The tire would not come off.
Now, I have an emergency road service policy with Good Sam because of the motorhome. By luck, I had the paperwork in the trunk. On the phone now. I got a nice guy who was quite formal - till I mentioned it. Then, he relaxed. I explained: Got the car jacked up and lug nuts removed - tire won't come off.
Well it took a spell to explain all and tell where I was located. He was in Ft. Worth, so that helped somewhat. Went on hold. He made contact with someone to come out. They had a question. Answered. Went on Hold. Nice elevator music on hold. Apparently someone was to be sent from a long way off. It is Easter Sunday as you may remember. I could see this guy driving about 100 miles to take care of me. Of course, there would be no cost to me - other than what I pay for the policy. On Hold.
At this point, a pickup drove by with those Christmas Tree lights on top. Forgot to mention that a highway patrol car came by earlier and did not acknowledge me at all. This truck stopped in the middle of the two lane road, turned on his big lights, and backed up to me. With the phone glued to my better ear, I walked to his passenger side open window and relayed my problem and that I was on hold waiting for the auto club to come back on.
The guy - I'd put him in his 20s, climbed out followed by his mom and little bro. We all shook hands and he introduced himself as a member of the Mildred volunteer fire department. He pushed and pulled on that tire. I am on hold. Nothing. After a good bit of all that, he kicked the living daylights out of the tire (I had done this earlier when I was alone) - the tire gave. I suppose it was rusted on.
I am on hold. The tire is off. The fireman installed the spare, lowered the jack, put the bad tire in the trunk - shook hands - and off they went. I am still on hold.
Naturally, eventually, in time, now, over time, the Good Sam guy came back on. I explained how the fire department came by and beat it loose. I thanked him a bunch & he quickly disconnected to call the tow people back and cancel. All in all, it was change of pace. I do have several chigger bites on my legs now.
The Marauder is parked outside, ready for a trip to the tire fixer in the A.M. The rest of the day was relaxed. No Migraines so far.
See ya guys.
A "STONE" is a family word for a personal story or thought, not quite an essay or short story. We moved to central Texas to be near a daughter. We are down to only one wirehair dachshund - Sadie. (Goodbye in 2021 to Oscar the ball boy and Bruno the larger twin) & my wife -- penned by a retired Texas H.S. band director - just nonsense thoughts unrelated to each other or anything other than what's happening and comments.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Easter Sunday Tire & Lesson
Posted by Mike Metze at 12:44 AM
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Post a Comment