Bland Theft Auto – Part 2

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Not the actual car that I helped steal, but you get the idea.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I’ve stolen two cars in my life. The first one was a ’60s vintage pink Rambler. The second was a late model Ford — possibly a T-Bird or one of Ford’s other land yachts.

To be honest, I didn’t really get a good look at the car. It was dark, and I didn’t actually take the car. I was just an accomplice.

One summer night, I was walking down West Ninth Street in downtown Cleveland, headed to work at the lakefront docks. A guy sitting in a car with the hood up got my attention He told me he was stranded and asked if I knew how to hot-wire a Ford starter solenoid. I told him I did and he handed me a screwdriver.

I laid the blade of the screwdriver across the posts on the solenoid, which was mounted on the inside of the fender well. The engine turned over and started.

I handed him the screwdriver through the passenger side window. He asked if I needed a ride.

“No thanks,” I said. “I’m just headed down the hill.”

Then I noticed the ignition switch dangling from the steering column.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

 

See other stories in my series, “Autobiography – My Life in Vehicles.”

 

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