It's January 1968 - It's Your First Car - It's Your First Accident

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You spent all of 1967 stuffing grocery bags, cutting lunches, cleaning your room - nodding your head.

You saved. You aced Drivers Ed. Passed your drivers test with flying colors. You want to blow up and frame your drivers license - you don't smile like that all the time.

You became the proud owner of a 1956 Plymouth Suburban Station Wagon - Lime Green. You could spot it out of thousands.

You had plans. Road trips. Drive-ins. Concerts. Sleeping bags. Freedom.

The future looked wonderful and you couldn't wait.

Went to the bank and the cash burned a hole in your pocket. Didn't think twice, handed it over to Otto's Autos on LaBrea, signed the papers, took the keys.

Stomach doing backflips - jam the key in the ignition - give Otto the thumbs up and step on the gas.

BAM!! Green MTA bus meets Green Plymouth = Accident. End result: twisted metal - you: unconscious. Bus Driver: perplexed. Drivers side door: lying on LaBrea - axle bent - car totaled.

Sirens and Midway Hospital. Broken bones and splitting headache - they keep asking questions about where you are and who is the President and what day it is.

Cops retrieve your drivers license - wallet scattered over LaBrea - smiling face and expiration date, smeared with oil and asphalt.

Months in a cast and more than enough hours to stare at the ceiling. Parents are glad you aren't dead but feel rotten you drained your life savings and hardly made it out of the car lot. Dad promises he'll get you a car 'cause you worked so hard and he knows how you feel.

Sigh of relief - nice thought - but you aren't so sure that maybe your mode of transportation from now shouldn't be hitching or the bus. You aren't trusting you much behind the wheel anymore.

You'll get over it - but Summer was a lot different than you planned. .

And at least you have KPPC on your bedside radio and B. Mitchel Reed to keep you company - just like he did in this somewhat abbreviated and truncated aircheck from January 17, 1968.


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