When trying to come up with a logical solution I decided to start with a trip to a service station owned by a buddy’s father. If we put it up on the lift maybe we could see something. That’s how I came to be bumping along on the tiny back road from Shavertown to Dallas.

Bouncing along the rough pavement made the noise worse. I kept a close eye in the rear view mirror. If it was the engine after all, I’d soon see black smoke behind me. In the end I saw no smoke, only my left rear tire rolling merrily along 18 inches away from the car. It seemed prudent to pull off the road and walk back to a phone to call my Dad. When can you come? Saturday? Okay. Two days off. I’ll be ready.

The early morning frost had not yet melted when we had the car jacked up and the problem identified. The rear axle had ground through the wheel bearings, then the bearing’s housing, and then, with nothing else to hold it in, the axle pulled free of its connection with the differential, or rear end or pumpkin – the choice of terms I leave to you.

And so the search began. “Hey mister! Any junk yards around here?”. This was one of Dad’s strong suits. He had all the patience in the world. He knew we depended on him to do what was needed and took the job seriously. I didn’t have that patience yet but it didn’t matter because it was just me an my Dad taking care of business, “getting ‘er done” as they say today.

Eventually we found the part. Lots of Corvairs in the junk yards – oops! I of course mean auto salvage yards (got to be politically correct). It took all day. On Sunday with a lot of hammering and looking and trying and grunting, we were able to once again put the tire back on and take my machine for a test drive. I nearly burst with pride. Me and Dad! We did it together right there along the side of the road in the swirl of the brightly colored falling leaves.

A couple years later I left school in favor of the army. Somewhere in all the excitement of being sent to Vietnam the old brown Corvair went away. I didn’t know where or exactly when and I didn’t ask. It didn’t matter because I had the memories. I still do.