Splash!!

Remember the wonder and amazement of being young, free, and behind the wheel of your very own automobile? No stress, no worries, every day was sunny and bright.....well, that's the way I remember it anyway. There was a short window of time when all those things seemed true and real. I hope all of you got to experience that feeling at least once. Oddly, I'm beginning to feel that way again since I'm old, retired, debt free, and my bum leg isn't acting up too much. Now if the morons in Washington will straighten up their collective acts and play fair, maybe we'll all be able to enjoy some "stress/worry free" days.... sorry, I got carried away there for a minute. I was going to tell a story about the past when all those things had fallen into place for me.

It was the summer of 1968. I had graduated from high school ranked in the top 600 of a class of 621. I remember leaving Bell High School for the last time. It was a beautiful late May morning. My graduation tassel was hanging from my rear view mirror, my windows were all down on the shiny Chevy Impala I had bought with my own money, nice breeze, and all those losers still in high school were sweating away the last week of their semester. I had made a trip to the school to pick up my last letter jacket....yes, I was a letter-man.....don't swoon.....nearly everyone in band had lettered at some point or other and I had managed to do it my senior year. I wasn't too sure that jacket would ever be worn since I was now a COLLEGE MAN but I was still proud to finally get it. It was a perfectly beautiful morning. The whole world was ahead for me....Yay!!

I started my new job at Six Flags the next morning. I was free from my grocery store job, which at the time seemed like a wonderful thing. I wound up missing that place as the college years progressed but in that first summer out of school I was free as a bird!!! 

Now that I'm older and the likelihood of being arrested is minimal, I will admit that the cool Chevy I owned made me drive a lot faster than the law allowed....much, much faster. I couldn't help it. I tried to slow it down but no-o, that sucker liked speed. Everywhere I went I was amazed to get there earlier than planned and in some cases I was amazed I got there at all. My route to Six Flags was down the old farm to market road 157 between Euless and Arlington. It was a nice long and straight stretch of highway and I liked it. 

About two weeks into my daily drive along FM 157 a storm front blew in and it rained so hard one of my neighbors told me he actually saw Noah float by in his ark. I'm not too sure he was telling the truth but I could never prove it. Anyway, it rained so hard during this storm, the river flooded the road and it had to be closed down for a while. This meant I would have to get to work by driving through "the river bottoms" which ironically did not flood. That was over fifty years ago and I still haven't figured out that scenario. The river bottom route was winding narrow roads, deep drop-offs, spooky as the dickens at night, and slow. I couldn't wait for 157 to be opened back up. After a week, the water still hadn't receded enough to open it back up so I was looking at another few days of slow driving. Finally, one morning Mark E. Baby, the KFJZ disc jockey informed us the road was now reopened for slow moving traffic only. I was so excited as I grabbed my stuff for work I may have missed the part about "slow moving traffic only"....pretty sure I did miss it. 

I always drove down the old Hwy 183 from Hurst to Euless like the model citizen I was. Hwy 183 was not a good road for fast driving. FM 157 crossed Hwy 183 right in the heart of "downtown Euless"... HAHAHA....sorry. If you didn't live around here back then you probably didn't catch the humor in that. Anyway, I would turn south on 157 in downtown Euless (snicker snicker) and head for Arlington. About a half mile down the road, 157 would drop down considerably to the lower straight route I loved. I couldn't see the road because an overhead train track was located right over the hill on 157. That morning, as I started down the hill, I opened it up looking forward to an adrenaline filled race to Six Flags. I was already up to about 80 mph when I went under the train tracks and spread out before me was an empty road...except for about two dozen guys working pumps as they struggled to get the last of the water off the road. There was about a hundred yards of road still under water and it could be used but only very, very slowly. As the job foreman pointed out to me as I flew past him, I was going a bit too fast. I hit that water creating the most beautiful arched cascade on either side of my car. The waterworks people in Las Vegas would have been so impressed. There wasn't a dry worker left on either side of the road. I knew it wasn't in my best interest to stop at this point even though some of them probably wanted to congratulate me on my performance. I floored that old Chevy and prayed all the way to dry asphalt it wouldn't stall out on me. By the time I got to the end of the water I must have been going close to 100 mph. I didn't slow down until I reached the other side of the straightaway. In my rearview mirror I could see laborers waving and cheering me on. Some were waving shovels, some were waving only one finger, but all were jumping up and down and screaming their approval. 

I didn't use FM 157 to get to work the rest of that summer. The nice, quiet river bottoms seemed a much more relaxed way to travel.