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Pulling out and turning a hard left on the wheel the steering disengaged, and the right front tire mounted the low seawall roadside, and with no steering proceeded to wheel along the approximately two foot wide wall top for twenty feet before of its own accord it came back down on the road where then the steering was re-engaged. Had it gone the other way it would have fallen off the other side, a three foot drop to the sand below.
It was my elders that persuaded me to sell the T to someone who would restore it for two hundred dollars. And so I did and bought a 1930 Model A.
Visconti the older brother of a class mate was from Chicago and opened a restaurant on the highway between Song Lake and the next town East, up a short hill drive-in, a small coffee shop, short order food and the best Italian, he was Italian, Chicago hot beef sandwich with gravy on a French roll I could kill for !
We hung out there for a time. A counter ran the width with stools, and tables and chairs filled in the rectangle with windows across the front looking out-from on a knoll.
Drink a cup of coffee, smoke a cigarette, someone plays the jukebox: Come Softly to Me, A Big Hunk of Love, Sleep Walk, Red River Rock. It was Visconti who sold me on a powder puff blue two door 1930 Ford coup with gear shift and a starter button on the floor pushed with the foot. Big improvement over the T.
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