I'm not certain of the year, but I do remember the event pretty well. It was the summer of 1975 or maybe 76. We were hanging around the Pic and Go. The guys were talking the usual junk: girls, cars, sports and girls. Oh, I said girls already; well, chicks were discussed a lot. All of them except me were smoking cigarettes. I was a good boy, just ask around.
I can't remember exactly which of the Brandon deviants were present that day, but I seem to recall, Doug, Tim, Me of course, Johnny Buchanan and Larry Reid. Now this would be a day that I am sure shaved at least a few days off of Reid's life.
Greg "Rock" Chandler was one of the middle children of the MacArthur Street Chandlers. I didn't know Greg all that well, but he seemed to be an OK guy. Other than a small speech impediment he seemed to be a normal Brandonista. He drove a green and white Pontiac Firebird, and like most of us that had cars, he was a little bit reckless. Which is what made what Reid did all the more amazing.
As I said, we were all standing around shootin' the breeze when Rock, in the Firebird, whipped up to the curb just outside the P&G. What happened next only our esteemed in house author, Larry Reid, can describe in all the horrific detail. Reid with teen aged agility (and judgement) hopped from the sidewalk outside the little store onto the hood of Rocks Firebird. Rock promptly dropped her down into drive - and took Reid for a ride. As Rock sped away - and I mean in a zero to fifty kind of departure - all we saw was the terrified surprise on Reid's face as he and Rock disappeared over the Traction Street hill.
They returned a few minutes later with Reid lying face down on the hood in a death grip with a windshield wiper...or something. As the car slid to a stop, Reid disembarked looking a little ashen and fumbling for a cigarette . I have to admit, I was afraid for the old boy as his amazing journey began, and was quite happy to see him make it back to the safety of the P&G in one piece. But the sidewalk mood that summer day was hysterical as the loiterers doubled over in spasms of laughter.
Reid, I promise I didn't start laughing until I saw you were still alive. Now I can't say the same for Doug, Tim and the other deviants. We look forward to hearing about those fateful five minutes from the passenger himself.
I can't remember exactly which of the Brandon deviants were present that day, but I seem to recall, Doug, Tim, Me of course, Johnny Buchanan and Larry Reid. Now this would be a day that I am sure shaved at least a few days off of Reid's life.
Greg "Rock" Chandler was one of the middle children of the MacArthur Street Chandlers. I didn't know Greg all that well, but he seemed to be an OK guy. Other than a small speech impediment he seemed to be a normal Brandonista. He drove a green and white Pontiac Firebird, and like most of us that had cars, he was a little bit reckless. Which is what made what Reid did all the more amazing.
As I said, we were all standing around shootin' the breeze when Rock, in the Firebird, whipped up to the curb just outside the P&G. What happened next only our esteemed in house author, Larry Reid, can describe in all the horrific detail. Reid with teen aged agility (and judgement) hopped from the sidewalk outside the little store onto the hood of Rocks Firebird. Rock promptly dropped her down into drive - and took Reid for a ride. As Rock sped away - and I mean in a zero to fifty kind of departure - all we saw was the terrified surprise on Reid's face as he and Rock disappeared over the Traction Street hill.
They returned a few minutes later with Reid lying face down on the hood in a death grip with a windshield wiper...or something. As the car slid to a stop, Reid disembarked looking a little ashen and fumbling for a cigarette . I have to admit, I was afraid for the old boy as his amazing journey began, and was quite happy to see him make it back to the safety of the P&G in one piece. But the sidewalk mood that summer day was hysterical as the loiterers doubled over in spasms of laughter.
Reid, I promise I didn't start laughing until I saw you were still alive. Now I can't say the same for Doug, Tim and the other deviants. We look forward to hearing about those fateful five minutes from the passenger himself.
The photo above is of the sidewalk where Reid took one small leap for man. The red truck is where Reid made the leap, but facing the opposite direction of Rock's Firebird that day.
So in honor of Reid's adventure, a blast from the past:
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