Posted on 05/25/2023 7:44:27 AM PDT by Red Badger
THANKS!....................
I got them at school lunch. For an extra .25 per week you got your pick on candy during afternoon recess. Snickers, Milky Way, Jolly Rancher, and others I can’t remember. After school it was a beeline across the street to the convenience store for more sugary goodness!!! Elementary school had its privileges!!
They washed it with a power washer? That’s nuts.
The only think I would touch that car with is something softer than a baby’s but.
It’s wonder the paint didn’t fly off in sheets!.................
What a sickening thought.
That car is a part of America past worth keeping. Reminds me of the song about riding with Private Malone.
Funny thing about 1970, youth truly does think it is invincible and lives mostly in the moment. I was a very sober minded young man but never gave much thought to the draft or going to Nam even as I watched the older guys go and not come back home. Six years earlier, in ‘64, I was just a Cub Scout. Sure, the war sobered me but the draft and even war’s end were just about non-events to me. I was never on campus though when the protests were ongoing. Maybe that is why it didn’t register so much. I was busy hauling hay in the summer, working at the pharmacy, working on my truck and racing to Tastee Freeze at lunch.
Unlike so many others just a little older than me I just missed it by a few years. Timing is everything.
There are a couple of guys younger than me down the side county road who look like 5 miles of board road and claimed to me they are Vietnam Vets. I enjoyed not pulling any punches in telling both of them they are liars and should hang their heads in shame.
My truck cost me $2,825 as a loaded ‘72 Cheyenne Super. Still have the truck.
Being a person of half-Asian ancestry, the Vietnam War was very personal to me. It was not a good time to be a lone Asian in a school full of kids who had fathers, brothers, and uncles in Vietnam.
I can’t tell you how many times I was called names like gook, Jap, Chink and every other epithet they could cull off the TV. Told to go back where I came from, but I already was.
I figured when I joined the Marines after HS, all that BS would stop, but it didn’t.
It was still alive an dwell in the marine Corps.
I even got crap from officers that were just as racist as their kids were........................
Sorry to hear you had to put up with that crap. My dad told similar stories, except he was a three year old boy arriving in the Bronx via Ellis Island in 1927. Germans weren’t very welcome just nine years after WW I ended. Dad learned how to be a good street fighter before they moved to the NY suburbs a few years later.
Children and a lot of people are just ignorant. Add cruel and you have a problem.
the Bronx ....... learned how to be a good street fighter .....
If you can make it in NYC, you can make it anywhere............
When I was in the Marines, I had several buddies from NYC.
They could practically tell you what street you lived on from the sound of your voice.
They taught me some, just enough to tell what borough somebody was from.
I love to surprise people by asking them what street they lived on and get the borough correct.
My mother-in-law’s boyfriend is a retired cop from the Bronx, and later Miami PD.
The first thing I said to him when I met him was what street in the Bronx he came from. He was used to people asking what part of NY but not what street!
I did the same thing with a cashier at our local Salvation Army store. She was shocked when I asked her as well.............
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