When it came to vehicles, my parents had some rotten luck. This might appear to be a work of fiction, but trust me, it’s all true. One cold winter night in the late sixties, they went to Sunday evening church services as they always did. When they came out of the building, their car was not where they had left it. They looked around frantically, thinking it had to be there somewhere. It wasn’t. Apparently it had been stolen. Someone called the police as others offered help. Mr. Buel Smith, longtime owner of the Ford dealership, jokingly said his feelings were hurt. His new Ford was parked right next to it, but they chose the Chevrolet. He offered a vehicle for them to use until theirs was located.
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