Punch it Frank!

"Punch it Frank!"...famous last words of a fool. My friend Frank and I had been out running around all morning. I can't remember exactly what we were up to but I'm sure it was no good. Naw, we weren't really bad guys, we just liked to have us a little fun. I do remember that it had been raining and the roads were still wet. We were cruising around in his suped-up Camaro. We were coming down McGinnis Rd. in Corryton, just about a half of a mile from where I was living at the time. Just in case you aren't familiar with that stretch of road, let me fill you in. As you approach the intersection of McGinnis/Boruff/Cardwell roads, there is a very steep and slick blind curve. The curve is notorious for folks sliding out of the road. Most normal people drive really slow around the curve, especially when the road is wet.

As we topped the hill to make our way down the curve, I yelled out, "Punch it Frank!" Looking back on it now, I realize just how stupid that was, but back then I was a little more footloose and fancy-free. Apparently my buddy Frank was too because the next thing I know, he is standing on the accelerator pedal. The big V8 engine let out a roar as it kicked into passing gear. The rear tires broke traction on the rain slickened blacktop and began spinning at about 8,000 RPM. The front tires couldn't grip the road and we went into a wild spin. It was just like being on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the fair. Around we went at a high rate of speed. All either of us could do was scream and hold on for dear life as the 10 foot embankment drew nearer to the windshield. The car finally came to a screeching halt, facing in the opposite direction in which we had come. The driver's side tires were hanging from the ditch. The car's engine died. After a few choice words, Frank began cranking the ignition. It roared back to life. He tried pulling back out of the ditch but it was no use. The car had bottomed out onto the pavement.

After a few attempts to push the car out, we finally gave up and I walked home to get help. I hopped in my car drove back and picked up Frank and then we drove to my dad's house to get a jack so we could lift the car out of the ditch. I went into my parent’s house and was explaining to them about the situation. My dad was quick to place the blame on Frank's bald, slick tires. Frank overheard him talking about his tires and for weeks after that he would imitate my dad saying, "If it weren't for those old slick tires..."

We were really lucky that day. If there had been another car coming when we did that, we would have hit them head on. It's amazing the things in life that we are able to live and tell about. God certainly watches over the foolish.