Life Clip Number Two: The Scare from the Hood

The "little red Ford" was bought by our foster dad which was quit a surprise. He was a Chevy man so you can imagine our shock when he came home driving a Ford. It turned out it was his answer for a farm pickup so we didn't have to use his new Chevy S-10.

The little red Ford eventually was sold to my brother who, after owning it for a couple of years, sold it to me. I'm telling you all this because "the scare from the hood" happened after my brother bought the pickup.

I'm sure it happened before I owned it even though I was driving. My brother asked me to get behind the wheel almost every time I was with him. I can't say if he trusted me more than himself or if he just didn't like being in control of the vehicle. (He's still that way.)

The hot summer sun beat down on us as I drove down the highway at sixty-miles-an-hour (yes, the little red Ford did that speed and faster). We were cruising along headed into Spokane for I don't remember what. We went into a dip in the highway when the hood decided to turn loose. It flew straight up blocking our view. I didn't dare dynamite the brakes. That could send the truck into an uncontrollable skid. I eased on the brakes praying I could keep her in the right lane. Then I realized if I squatted down I could see the pavement by looking under the bottom of the hood. I got slowed down and pulled off the road.

My brother and I sat there getting our hearts back into our chests and making sure our pants weren't soiled. We eventually got out to investigate. The thing we had to figure out was what to do about the hood. It wouldn't latch and we had nothing to tie it down with. This was long before cell phones so we couldn't just call someone. Then I came up with an idea.

I always kept a small set of tools behind the seat since the pickup was so unpredictable. I decided to remove the hood and put it in the bed. But would it ride in the back without blowing out? Would it even fit in the bed? It was better than standing around scratching our heads or whatever else we were scratching.

The hood didn't set flat in the bed as we had hoped but it seemed secure enough. We started back down the highway. Thirty, thirty-five--it still stayed in the back. Forty, forty-five--no movement. Fifty, fifty-five--it still rode like a charm. Finally, sixty. It stayed put.

Back in those days if you had a vehicle with a souped up engine, you took the hood off in the summertime. Everyone in town must have thought that little flathead V-8 was one hot mama of an engine. They looked and gawked and stared as we drove by. I couldn't resist pushing in the clutch and revving her up a couple times.

The bright thing to have done would have been to stop and buy a rope to tie the hood down. But we were a couple of hobbledehoys so the thought never even occurred to us.

After the show in town and getting what we were there to get, we started back home. I'd like to spin this tale and say the hood flew out and embedded itself in the pavement, but nothing of the sort happened. The trip home was uneventful. We did have to work on the hood hinges to get the hood back on and working properly. If I remember right, it involve a bit of welding on the part of the hood where it attached to the hinges. We must have done an excellent job because the hood latched beautifully and never again flew open while driving.

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