Junk yard people

[slant6billy]

OK, I've been run off the properties sometimes. Not too mention, met some rude proprietors of car yards.

Yesterday by far was the best experience in a yard.

Gator, Gator's father, and me went over to the only "old Iron" yard in South Philadelphia. They guys at the counter- one old Italian guy from Vegas and an old Iriish ex Phila motorcycle cop.

Let me tell you these guys treated us like royalty.

They drove us out to the Volare' to take a look. Nice, kind of like "Fantasy Island". The front counter got busy with customers, So the old ex motorcycle cop handed us the keys to his truck and his tool box to go get the grille off the Volare'. Mind you- THIS AIN'T A "U-PULL IT TYPE YARD"... The guy said -" Just bring it back when you guys are done".

The truck had tools, hand cleaner, paper towels- It made the hot morning easy. They offered coffee and cold water back at the office too.

The second place we went yesterday was not too shabby either..... offering freecold water bottles and free Hot dogs with purchase.

It was nice to feel like these business appreciate their customers. So Damn right it was a good day.

Do you see the light rays shinning down?

 

[slant6billy]

Some IMPs

 

[Justwondering]

does warm your heart.

Not junkyard, but good people story.

Back way over to county seat east of us where we pick up food and supplies. About 2 years ago.
Dually has a flat 1/2 the way back. 13 miles from home: 13 miles from city
Sunday - no traffic.
I limp along babying the tire for 2 miles to get to the 13 mile point.
Finally it blows.
In front of a house with a circle drive and trees.
Middle of summer. 102 in the sun. Just 10 minutes shy of straight up noon.
Little tiny 1 foot shoulders on this two lane road.
I pull partway into the drive and block it trying to get off the road but level enough to change the tire (front thank goodness).
Husband is with me and starts overheating (congestive heart failure kicking in due to stress and heat).
I get him under the trees to cool a bit.
Go climb in the back of the truck and get what I need to change the tire.
Get back out and put the jack in place, get out the lug wrench, audition the lug nuts - won't fit. Nothing in the truck fits the front lug nuts.
Desperate sinking feeling.
Start checking under seat, under hood, recheck the tool box. No other lug wrench.
Start calling local buds. 1 no answer, 2 no answer, 3 no answer -- sunday, nobody home from church?
Hear a voice. Turn around. 86 year old man introduces himself and hands me a water bottle, ditto for husband.
We discuss options. Tells me to go get chairs off the porch from his wife so we can sit since we don't go inside where its cool.
They are on way to eat Sunday dinner at a local's, invite us to go.
We decline.
He goes inside, comes back out. His wife is driving car and backing out.
Walks over and hands me the keys to his brand new, 2015, extended cab Ford, every bell and whistle you can imagine.
Doesn't want us to be without transport and wants to make sure we have a/c
Says to put the keys in the mailbox when we get everything settled.
They will be back after dark.

 

[slant6billy]

does warm your heart.

Not junkyard, but good people story.

Back way over to county seat east of us where we pick up food and supplies. About 2 years ago.
Dually has a flat 1/2 the way back. 13 miles from home: 13 miles from city
Sunday - no traffic.
I limp along babying the tire for 2 miles to get to the 13 mile point.
Finally it blows.
In front of a house with a circle drive and trees.
Middle of summer. 102 in the sun. Just 10 minutes shy of straight up noon.
Little tiny 1 foot shoulders on this two lane road.
I pull partway into the drive and block it trying to get off the road but level enough to change the tire (front thank goodness).
Husband is with me and starts overheating (congestive heart failure kicking in due to stress and heat).
I get him under the trees to cool a bit.
Go climb in the back of the truck and get what I need to change the tire.
Get back out and put the jack in place, get out the lug wrench, audition the lug nuts - won't fit. Nothing in the truck fits the front lug nuts.
Desperate sinking feeling.
Start checking under seat, under hood, recheck the tool box. No other lug wrench.
Start calling local buds. 1 no answer, 2 no answer, 3 no answer -- sunday, nobody home from church?
Hear a voice. Turn around. 86 year old man introduces himself and hands me a water bottle, ditto for husband.
We discuss options. Tells me to go get chairs off the porch from his wife so we can sit since we don't go inside where its cool.
They are on way to eat Sunday dinner at a local's, invite us to go.
We decline.
He goes inside, comes back out. His wife is driving car and backing out.
Walks over and hands me the keys to his brand new, 2015, extended cab Ford, every bell and whistle you can imagine.
Doesn't want us to be without transport and wants to make sure we have a/c
Says to put the keys in the mailbox when we get everything settled.
They will be back after dark.

Yep. faith in fellow human gets restored. Nothing wrong with helping a person up. Trouble is the stigma. A lot of us are too damn proud to accept help. I hate offering help sometimes so it doesn't offend the person. I hate accepting help myself- it is that hardhead of mine. That old couple may or may not have known how crucial lending that truck was at the time. One may never know.

 

[Darth-Car]

Was 16 at the time, new with license, and had only been wrenching on my own car, a 73 Pinto for about two years. At the time it was pouring rain when I was on my way to an afternoon appointment. I was driving down a road that had been a two laner for many years, but had recently been expanded to 5 lanes, so most of the old homes were gone, because they had been to close to the expanded road. I suddenly hit this long stretch of water that ran for about 30 feet, and I was throwing up rooster tails over my roof while traveling at 45 MPH. When I came out of it I realized that there was no go in the motor. SO I toss the stick into neutral, and hit the key; no luck. I am decelerating with traffic coming up from behind. This new road had no shoulders, and there were curbs on each side. Up ahead I see one of the old farm houses that has a drive onto the road. Fortunately I was already in the right lane, so this would be an easy turn in for me to the right to get off of the road. I just get into the drive, and off of the road when my forward momentum is gone. I start repeatedly hitting the key, while the heavy rain pounds the car. Do you know a car will start better if you lean in toward the instrument cluster, and focus your gaze at the non moving gauges? Well I was trying that age old trick when there came a rapping at my window that startled me back to upright, in my seat reality. I roll down the window to see this little, old fellow in overalls, standing there under an umbrella. He says, "I bet you hit that big puddle a ways back? Let's open up this hood, and see what we have to work with." Like some magic car wizard once under the hood he immediately zeroed in on my distributors location, and had the cap off in a flash. I assures me he will be back in a moment. It takes him longer to trundle off to his barn, and back then it takes him to dry my distributor, and hit it with some WD40. He would not accept the $5 I had for his help, and told me to have a nice day.

Here is the interesting part; a week later I drove by on a sunny day, and the house, the barn, and even the shiny aluminum mailbox by the road were all gone, as if they had never been there. I know I was there. I know there was plenty of road frontage from the road to the house, and the barn was behind the house. it was all well kept, and not a dump in any fashion. Perhaps it was there one day, for one stranded 16 year old kid who had no clue what to do in the rain.

 

[7T8 Custom]

That`s some Twilight Zone stuff right there.