455 Rocket ! This story is about the sad, sad ending of this super car, my very first one. I believe that you have heard of how I got it through the manager at Ritter Finance Company up on Broadway. Being the Assistant Manager meant that I was in charge of the collections as they came due in the office. Our superb secretary, Barb Bazarnic would pull the overdue accounts and then we would either make a phone call or two to set up arrangements to physically collect the payments. It was allowed back then whereas today I am not certain just what the rules are. There were few rules governing these proceedings and success was often measured on your skill on the phone as you wove a tale of utter “ DOOM “ if their account was not brought up to date as soon as possible. After a while it was almost like a contest to see just who could come back with the most money to be applied to the account in their hands. Please believe me when I say that I am not trying to make light of the circumstances that these customers found themselves in from time to time. In fact, there have been times in my own financial life that I was short on my own payments and it is not a very good feeling. I do sympathize with many of you on this matter. But you soon realize that they will tell you almost any story of why they will not be able to pay you anything or at least not the full amount until “ next week “ . As if some money fairy would be stopping by next week. Lol. We got paid so much a mile to “ chase “ these delinquent accounts and were paid by Barb as soon as we filled out the proper voucher. It was also the duty of the assistant managers to fill in for one or another if the need arose due to an unfortunate accident or illness at one of the other offices in your company. I do not remember the exact reason for the Berwick Ritter Finance office to have need of my services, but I was assigned to that office for several weeks one summer in 1969. It was almost exactly 40 miles from our parking lot to theirs and it was a rather pleasant commute. Several days before I was to be re-assigned back to my Milton office , as I was cruising along route 80 , passing everything, I heard a rather loud grinding sound and then lost ALL power in the car. I was doing around 70 miles an hour passing a semi when all of a sudden I had no way at all to control my car. I was literally standing on my not-so-much power brakes and trying for all I was worth to steer this “ boat “ of a car off to the right side of the road. Thank god for the trucker that I was trying to pass. He saw almost immediately that I was in trouble and roared ahead of me and kept the traffic away from me until I found myself safely on the right berm. I am sorry that I never thought to ask him his name but he stopped and made sure that I was alright. Then he left and assured me that he would notify someone to help me as soon as he could. Having two Uncles who made their living “ over-the-road” left me with an already heightened sense of their skills and dedication out on the ribbons of asphalt. It wasn’t too long after he left that a tow ruck showed up and he popped the hood of my Olds. To this day I cannot say if he told me the truth when he said that I had “ put the rods through the engine”. I have never been any kind of a mechanical person so I reasoned that he was being honest. I literally junked my wonderful-when-running very first car on the spot. He took me into town and I made arrangements to be picked up. It was a rather sad ending to this chapter in my car owning life, but she was A 455-Rocket, the kind the police drive. She was made for the straightaways , grew up hating Chevrolets….
Posted on: Mon, 10 Mar 2014 13:55:26 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015