No Brakes Again . . .

Well the story about my father’s brakes going out and someone driving through Buffalo Wild Wings while my son was working brought another brake story to my mind. This one is another famous Wessie story.

I had a car that seemed to have a history of getting the back passenger door crashed. I cannot remember the first time, but I actually am thinking it was Wessie. The next time, I was at Walmart stuck behind a car waiting for a parking space. A car beside me started backing out of his parking space and was headed straight for my back passenger door. I honked and honked and tried to go forward or backward to get out of the way while I was honking the entire time. It was to no avail. He crashed the back door in. We, of course, had it repaired.

We lived in the country and had a huge pole barn. I parked by pulling into the side of the barn to the north and Wessie parked by pulling into the end of the barn toward the west. He was getting ready to go to work one night and we all had kissed him goodbye.

My son was standing by the front door which was closed, so we were unable to see out. I heard a sickening crunch sound that you always remember once you hear it. It is the sound of a car being smashed by another. It is a very recognizable sound. I was trying to open the door because I could not imagine what would have happened. My son asked what was the matter. I told him to move because someone had hit a car. He was puzzled as well, but moved out of the way so I could open the door.

Outside of the garage door was Wessie standing there in disbelief. No vehicles could be seen. I asked if he had hit a car and said I heard the unmistakable noise of metal on metal. He just stood there. The kids came running out by then and we went to the barn. Sure enough, the front end of Wes’ old vintage red truck was in my back passenger door.

I could not believe he did that. I asked how in the world he did that. This is even more unbelievable. . . his response was that he noticed the brakes were not working as he was backing out, so he pulled back into the pole barn. The son had a response then as well. He asked his father, did you think, let’s see, stop the truck by backing into the basketball pole or pull in and smash the cadillac? Well all of us lost it then. Wes was once again the brunt of the laughter.

Obviously he was not thinking. Of course, the truck, a 1966 short bed Chevy street rod, is good and heavy, so nothing happened at all to the truck. My car door did not fare so well. When Wessie went to have it again repaired, the body shop owner asked if we just wanted a target painted there. I said no, thank you, Wes has a very good aim!