“The Last Straw”
Back in 1965 I bought a 1959 Chevy Convertible. It had a 348 cu engine with a granny gear. Bill suggested we put a 409 cu in it along with a 4-speed tranny, so we did.
I was dating a girl named Lynn, and she wanted me to teach her to drive. We were out on a date one Friday night at an ice cream joint called The Last Straw. It was located on Alpine Road and State Street. Lynn’s pleading finally got to me, and I consented to teach her to drive. We finished our ice cream and headed for the car. Lynn ran ahead and jumped into the driver’s side behind the wheel. I tried to explain to her that this car was not a car to learn to drive in, but Lynn was sure she could handle it. I explained that she should give it a little gas and slowly let out the clutch. She actually did pretty good getting the car to the entrance, but I forgot to tell her how to stop. The car slowed until it began to jerk. Lynn got flustered and accelerated out of the entrance between two oncoming cars. That ‘59 Chevy rubberized the intersection and somehow Lynn managed to avoid all the traffic. We were both white as sheets when she finally got it under control. I reached over and turned the ignition off as Lynn brought the car to a stop on the side of Alpine. We traded places and never said another word about it. Three weeks later she was driving the ‘59 Chevy like a pro.