I’ve been searching for the right way to tell this story and there just doesn’t seem like a real right way. While spending time today with Kenny, he asked if I’d ever gotten around to telling it. So here goes.
One day while driving through Marble, we encountered 2 very big, very black, very tough looking fellows in their 1960s something Cadillac Pimpmobile. This was about 1969 or 70.
Kenny and I have differing memories when it comes to how this all began, but the end result is, he or I one of the other must have honked our horn and that provoked the brothers in the other car. I think maybe even a few words were shouted about the looks of their ride. A small verbal skirmish ensued to where the two candy asses from Smithwick figured out that things we’re going to get real ugly if we didn’t move along at a nice pace. When the light turned, they went north, our intended direction, but with a sudden jerk of the wheel we were on our way east out of town.
We never saw those guys again but we have spent the past 50 something years contemplating our cowardice that day. I don’t think either of us had ever walked away from anything like that before and we sure haven’t since.
It’s like I told Kenny today: We could have pulled over and suffered a little short term pain that day or spent the rest of our lives regretting our actions. The real consolation has been to never let it happen again.
Now for me that doesn’t mean I’ve walked around picking fights and scraping with people my whole life. It just gave me the wisdom to stay away from situations like that. That’s not always true of my brother, but those stories will have to wait for another day.
Sadly, the times we live in today, 2 white boys could be shot for a lot less. Just telling it like it was.