Fun with a whistle
October 22, 2008 (Wednesday)
The old 1941 Mercury I mentioned in yesterday’s blog was the first car I owned. I needed it to commute from the college campus to the church field and to get around on the field. Before I bought the car, I hitched a ride with Dwight Dudley, who owned a Model A Sedan, and freely chauffeured me to the church field. Once there he taught Bible Study, worked with the youth, and sometimes led singing, but that singing job was taken over by our mutual friend, Bill Webb. The three of us, students at Baylor, pastored the church together. What great friends we became. Without Dwight and his willingness to provide transportation for me, I don’t know how I would have managed to get to the church, which was fifteen miles past the end of the line for the bus.
The car was a bank repo sold to me by a banker, but it was an old wreck and always gave me trouble. So I dressed it up a bit by putting a “wolf whistle” on it. It was a whistle that made its sound with air from the exhaust manifold. I drilled a hole in the manifold, threaded it, and screwed the whistle into the place. It was operated by a valve, controlled by a string that was connected through the firewall to the instrument panel inside the car. Except for the high pitch, it operated on the same principle that steam engines utilized for their big whistles. It made people laugh and proved I was still a kid.
Later on I was given a different kind of sound maker that fit in the front of the car behind the grill. It was electronic and could be programmed to play songs. It was fun, too, and even though I was a lot older, married with children, it proved I was still a kid at heart. As a matter of fact, I think I probably still have that device somewhere around the house. But if I could find it, I wouldn’t hook it up and use it, which proves, I guess, that I am really an old man. At 77, I’ve attempted to keep my sense of humor. I just don’t feel like working on a car anymore.