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When my Father retired from the United States Air Force, we moved to Southeastern Oklahoma were he had found a job as a telephone repair man. Southeastern Oklahoma, for those that do not know, is a heavily forested area where the Ozark mountains end.
However, after about two weeks on the job, my Father's pole climbing spurs gave out when he was high on a pole and he fell and broke his back.
It did not take long for everything to go to hell in a hand basket. My family had not sold the home we moved from and were still paying for the home we had just moved into. His USAF retirement was not much and supporting the six of us was costly, even in those days.
My brother, Father and I got a paper route to help. We would get up at 3 AM every morning, drive the five miles to town, pick up our 200 some odd news papers, roll them and then deliver them. My brother and I did everything while my Father drove.
I also helped out at a local Chicken Farm, worked the weekends at a local gas station and worked as a janitor at the school. This barely kept food on the table, gas in the tank and a roof over our heads.
After several months of this, workmen's comp finally paid. It was not much, but my parents wanted to make up for everything us kids had been through. They bought each of us a bike, a few pairs of jeans and a couple of shirts for the boys and dresses for the girls. We also got new sneakers (low top Converse - no they were not the latest rage).
My brother and I would ride those bikes all over the country. We easily did more then 10 miles a day (5 into town and 5 out). We also did our own maintenance on them.
One day, we got into a fight, as brothers will sometimes do. He was really angry at me and, of course, I at him.
After many harsh words and a bit of shoving, he stormed off, got on his bike and rode away. I stood there and wondered if I should follow him and decided just to let him go. He rode up the drive, then the big hill and over the top and was gone. I couldn't see him for all the trees and the curve over the hill. I turned to go inside and noticed his brake cables lying there!
Both of us had forgotten that he had taken them off and that I was going to help him put them back on. I yelled at him and screamed at the top of my lungs "COME BACK! YOU FORGOT YOUR BREAKS!!" I ran through the trees toward the top of the hill.
Suddenly, he shot over the top of the hill and was coming down at a very good clip. I Yelled, "YOUR BRAKES!" He yelled back, "What about my brakes?" Then he hit the handles for them and realized what I was saying.
He suddenly yelled "NO BRAKES" and set both of his feet flat on the gravel road and then yelled "NEW SHOES!" Just as quickly he lifted his feet back up!
I could see the terror on his face as he shot down the hill faster and faster yelling over and over "NO BRAKES" Then as his feet hit the gravel road, "NEW SHOES!" and his feet would rise up high.
The ritual picked up speed, "NO BRAKES! NEW SHOES! NO BRAKES! NEW SHOES!" With each phrase his feet shot down hit the dusty gravel and left a swirl of red dirt coming up to punctuate the next phrase. His hair was blowing in the wind and his eyes were as big as saucers. I felt as if he was sending smoke signals with those new shoes that screamed "OH GOD PLEASE SAVE MY NEW SHOES AND MY BIKE AND MY BODY AND GOD PLEASE DON'T FORGET MY SHOES!!"
He shot past me, his mouth wide open in fearful screams of "No Brakes" and "New Shoes." I felt the dust swirl up in my face and the swoosh of air and then he was gone. I couldn't;t see him for the short burst of dust that was trailing him. Yet, I kept looking. He eventual came back into sight...........Right were the road ended and the forest started.
I never knew a ten speed could act like a mountain bike. Those things had not even been created yet. I also never realized a ten speed could bounce that high in the air. My face puckered up as I saw him come down on the ten speed seat and then bounce again. I found myself flinching at every small, medium and big bounce he took. I yelled, "Hang on!!"
He yelled back, "What...(bump).. do you.....(BIG BUMP).... think.....(another bump)... I am......(BIG BOUNCE).. doing!" He sounded as if he were screaming through a fan due to all the bumps. I watched him cross the creek and just miss a big oak. He lifted his feet and went through the edge of a black berry bush. The whole time he keep saying something like, "Ow" or "Ouch" at each bump he went through. I could tell and he may have even been cursing his situation.
By this time he was slowing down and I was running to him.......laughing.
He slowly came to a stop, but he still had his feet up in the air and the bike just stood there for a few seconds and fell over. He landed fine, looked up at me and said, "This is your fault."
I simply said, "OK" and then we both started laughing so hard. We laughed for some time. Still, for months to come, all I had to say was "New Shoes" and we would both start laughing again.
Hope you enjoyed the story, my brother and I still do.
