Here's a list of some (not all) of the Craziest and Stupidest things I ever participated in......
1. The Center Street Curve. One Sunday afternoon a group (4 or 5) of us were riding around in my old buddy David Greenwood's '57 Chevy two door hardtop. We were just 'cruisin' around Central City when someone got the bright idea that we could turn onto Ash Street (the street that runs alongside Chaney's Bar-B-Q and could reach 50 miles per hour from the turn off to the top of the hill. Man, was that ever a bright idea? Reaching 50 mph in that short stretch wasn't any problem, in fact it was easy. Only problem was slowing back down to the 15 mph we needed to be running as we approached the Center Street Curve (where Ash St. turns into Center St. without warning). That met we had to go from slightly over 50 mph to 15 mph in less than 100 feet (try that on your own sometime). Anyhow as David hit the brake to slow down, the car hit the curve and spun around 180 degrees, went over about a 15' bank into Hollis Wortham's back yard backward, between two giant oak trees and came to rest about 100' off the road. Remember the scene in "Christmas Vacation" where Chevy Chase fell asleep at the wheel of his car, careened off the road, over an embankment, across a busy interstate and into the parking lot of a motel. He looked over at his wife as if nothing was unusual and said "we're here....made pretty good time!" That's how we felt as we simply restarted the undamaged car, drove it through the Wortham's back yard as if nothing was amiss, back to the road and on our way.
2. Lovell's Cave. This also happened on a Sunday afternoon with pretty much the same group of guys. We were hanging around at the Dairy Maid when someone came up with the bright idea of going "spelunking" in a cave we'd heard about outside of Greenville near the rock quarry called Lovell's Cave. Someone had told one of us about it and we weren't sure we could even find it, but what the heck? ...wasn't much else going on. So we set out with our only piece of exploring equipment, that being a single flashlight. We drove out Weir Road to the quarry and found a road just past it that looked like it was described to us. We took this route and found a barn several feet off the road that was also as described to us. That had to be it. From there, we parked the car, climbed through a barbed wire fence and headed for the barn. Just past the barn was a dirt path leading into the woods and down a steep (and I mean steep) hill. We followed this path for a few feet and sure enough, right there in the middle of a honeysuckle thicket was the opening (called the "mouth") of the cave. Cautiously we started inside and found it to be pretty large, tall enough to stand up in and still have plenty of room. This was about two o'clock in the afternoon and it was sunny and bright.
About forty feet into the cave, it became dark pretty fast and soon became "pitch black" to where we had to turn our flashlight on. The cave was very interesting.....sort of like a miniature Mammoth Cave. We wandered along it's path for about thirty minutes and was probably about a quarter-mile inside it. We could tell we weren't the first ones in there however as there was a considerable amount of graffitti on the walls. We didn't see a lot from the Paleothic Era but there was a lot of stuff from the early sixties on that wall. As we descended further, the path became more narrow and we were walking in single file. We saw several bats hanging from various ceilings and was careful not to disturb them. Another thirty minutes passed and we were probably close to a mile from the entrance. This hadn't necessarily been a "straight shot" as there were several "forks" in the path and frankly no one bothered to mark our route so we knew it would be pretty difficult to find our way back out.
Just as we thought we had found the "back of the cave," we found another small hole which we actually had to "crawl on our bellies" to get through. This went on for about fifteen feet. Whoever had the flashlight led the way and they were to shine the light toward the rest of us when they got through (I don't know why we thought they would get through but we did). When the passage was complete, it opened into this huge, cavernous chamber, probably fifty or sixty feet in diameter and nearly as high. There was water dripping in it and several bats hanging from the ceiling. We sat around on large rocks and "savored" the view and decided it was time to turn back (we could have gone even further, which gives you an idea of the size of this cave). About the time we stood up to re-enter the small passageway, the flashlight went out. We thought whoever was holding it was "joking" but was soon convinced that they were not. It was the "blackest of blacks" in there. I don't ever remember being any more scared than that moment, at least up to that point in my short life. Of course, it didn't help that we didn't tell anyone where we were going so no one had any idea we were out there. The car was parked well off the road between some heavy foilage so about the only one likely to spot it was the guy who owned the farm and by the looks of it, he didn't get out there too often. We began "beating" the flashlight against a rock and to our amazement, it came back on. We started through the horizontal passageway. When all of us got through and were able to stand upright, the light flickered and went out again. We beat it against another rock and it came back on. We stepped out briskly and would go about twenty-five feet before it went out again. This cycle continued for a good forty-five minutes.....light go out - beat against rock- light come back on. We were only guessing what the route was back to the front of the cave as again, there were lots of "forks" in our path.
Finally, after about ah hour of fooling with the light, it went out for a final time. We beat and beat and beat but it just wouldn't come back on and we had no idea where we were. Finally, one of the guys said, "Look up there...on the right!" We looked where he said and we could see stars.
We were a mere twenty feet from the mouth of the cave. It had turned dark and we could see the stars in the sky. Slowly we stumbled and crept and found our way back outside and to the car. The flashlight never worked again. From that experience I always make it a point to tell someone where I'm going, even to this day.
3. The KU Tower. I don't know how many of you have ever visited the power plant at Mogg but during our senior year the Future Engineers Club (by the way, NONE of us became engineers to my knowledge) took a field trip out there. While we were touring the plant and the grounds, we couldn't help but notice a radio tower (or some kind of tower) with a flashing red light on top. This thing had to be at least 150' in the air.
The following Friday night, we decided we had to have the red lens from that tower. In those days we didn't have terrorist threats or anything like that around here so the guard shack that's out front by the gate now wasn't there then. We had clear sailing and since pretty much all of the workers were inside the plant, it was easy to get in there and not be noticed. By the way, did I mention it was about twenty degrees outside?
We met at the Dairy Maid and set out in a single car. Notice I'm not mentioning names here to protect the guilty. Stunts like this are why we were never nominated for Phi Beta Kappa. Anyhow when we got there, two of us proceeded to climb the tower, one on each side. This was pretty easy for the first seventy or eighty feet because we were in pretty good physical shape (not very good mental shape though). It took about thirty minutes to get the first 100.' It took anothe thirty to go the last 50' and our legs were cramping and aching by the time we got to the top. The wind was blowing fairly briskly that night and the tower felt like it was swaying about 3' back and forth (it was probably more like 3" but it really did feel like 3'). At last, I reached the light and unscrewed the top, removing the red lens (leaving the white bulb). During our extensive "planning process," it never crossed our tiny minds that we'd somehow have to pack the "trophy" back down the tower and we needed both hands to climb back down (which took another forty five minutes). I had no choice but to drop the lens which would have broken it into a million pieces or I could just "screw it back on" which is what we decided to do. We climbed back down, got back into the car to "thaw out" and headed back to town. I couldn't hardly walk the next day and had nothing to show for it.
4. River Queen's Beltline. River Queen mine was located on Highway 181 between Hwy. 70 and Greenville. Lots of coal was mined there over the years and most of it was shipped out via barge. Trouble was there wasn't a river anywhere near the mine so a railroad was built from the mine across country to the Green River. This was in the area of North Central City known as the Devil's Lake area. the railroad cars would then pull over a "hopper" and empty themselves into it. The "hopper" (which was like two giant funnels running on each side of a central track heading out over the river) would then fill the waiting barges below. The track these hoppers ran on were centrally located in a canal which connected directly into the main channel of the Green River. This track was about 75' off the water's surface, supported by giant steel poles.
Each pole had a ladder running up the side of it (for maintenance purposes). A group of us always liked to spend our Springs swimming and boating in the river. One day I got the bright idea that I would like to climb one of these poles and dive from one of the 75' towers...head first!
I really wasn't sure I could do it but at least if I couldn't get up my nerve, all I had to do is climb back down (I had experience at that....see KU Tower above). I jumped from the boat and swam the few feet to the pole, pulled myself up the ladder and began to climb. Most of my friends said I'd never do it....that I'd be climbing back down. After I got most of the way up there, I felt they might be right. It sure looked a long way down to the water. I'd just finish my climb, get to the top of the pole (they were about 8' in diameter) and sit down and ponder the situation. The track ran down the center of the pole leaving about a 3' ledge to sit on...plenty of room. I had pretty much made up my mind I wasn't going to dive off but the guys below didn't know this yet. I got to the top of the ladder, slid my rear onto the ledge and assessed the situation. It didn't take me long to realize I was out of my league. I decided to stay up there a few minutes to get my breath, so I slowly slid back against the track to have something to rest against. About that time I felt something "squash" and I heard a loud "buzzing" sound. I had rested my back against a 6" wasp's nest and they were pretty upset about it. They began to attack and about three of them stung me, I had no choice...I had to get away from them so I jumped (actually dived head first). It seemed like it took five minutes before I hit the water but when I hit it, I hit it hard. I felt my arms "buckle" against my forehead. I felt my body plunge into the river and go deep. By the time I came back up to the surface, I was gasping for air. My heart was pounding hard which made the "stingers" that were still attached throb even more painfully but at least I was alive. I was the "hero" of the afternoon until the guys finally figured out why I did it. That was the first and last time we ever went back out to that canal by river.
5. The "Parking" Place. My folks owned a 1960 Chevrolet Impala 4 door hardtop with a six cylinder engine, three speed transmission on the steering column (remember those days). The car was probably one of the largest ever made (save Cadillacs of the same era) and it's what I learned to drive on. It was also what I drove on dates since it was all we had. One day I was hangin' out with "Vince," (Larry Vincent, my best friend in high school) and we were out on his Granddad's farm. It was located where the Super Wal-Mart is now. Larry told me he found a place to go "parking," that was on top of the hill and you could see the "lights of Central City" from up there. It sounded pretty romantic. He agreed to show me how to get up there (we were in his '56 Chevy at the time). You had to enter from old highway 62 (at about the point where the secondary entrance to Wal-Mart is now) and drive about 500' back a dirt road. The hillside was being "logged" and there were lots of stumps and limbs remaining. You had to be careful not to hit any of these but from the dirt road was another "logging road" to the right that led to the top of the hill. There was plenty room to park up there, turn around and come back down.
That night my girlfriend and I had a "double date" with another couple and I thought it would be neat to take them up there. Thought I'd "impress" them. After a meal at the Dairy Maid and some "runnin' around," we headed out there. It was dark and the road wasn't lit. Things looked a lot different under the headlights than they did on that sunny afternoon. I found the dirt road to the left and started back it. I was having trouble finding the "logging road" to the right so I turned where I thought it should be and headed up the hill. I put the car in low gear and 'gunned it."
We were running about twenty five miles per hour up the hillside and it didn't take me long to realize I wasn't on the "logging road," in fact, I wasn't on any road! Problem was, if I had stopped I would have been "hung up," so I kept "plugging along" up the hill hoping for the best.
I could hear (and feel) it as I ran over the stumps left by the loggers. Pretty soon, we reached the peak of the hill but no one told me someone was building a new home up there and they had just dug the basement. The big Chevy drove right over the edge and landed nose first on the bottom of the mud soon-to-be basement floor. That pretty much ended the trip and needless to say we couldn't see any of the lights of the town either....and it most certainly wasn't "romantic." We got out of the car and saw it would be impossible to try to get it out ourself. We set off walking down Old 62 (a fun place to walk at night), found a house, used the phone and called Charlie Humphrey's wrecker. When he and Ed Gish (his brother -in-law and business partner) arrived they couldn't control their laughing. They had to park the wrecker at the bottom of the hill and "walk" the cable and hook up the side of the hill, hook on to the Chevy and literally "pull" it back down the hill. It made for a lousy evening and it wasn't much fun explaining to my parents what I did to their car. I still haven't seen the lights of the town!
These are five things that come to mind but with a little thought I could probably come up with a lot more but I'll leave that to a future blog. Some of you who receive this will probably e-mail me and remind me of some things we did that were crazier than that. All I can say is our Guardian Angel must have worked a lot of overtime during those years....and Thank God they did!
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