Here is a couple more stories. These stories are absolutely factual events that I have been involved in over the years and are intended to give you a chuckle.
Its 1967 and our dealership had decided a year or two earlier to offer daily rental services. One day two men, fresh off one of the boats at the harbour landed in for a rental car and they got greeted by our Parts Manager Doug. Cruickshank. They wanted a car to go up to the Meaford area for a couple of days. Doug. Having come from that area and had sailed at one time and these were obviously a pair of good old boys, rented them a 1967 Pontiac Parisienne Sedan.
Trouble is the car did not come back on time and we could not make contact with them. We had a problem.
Right after work one day I, Doug, brother Ron and good for any type of experience, IAC finance manager and good friend Vaughan Harris hopped into a car and off we went. One of those passengers tucked a bottle of whiskey under the seat plus one that I had already put there. I was driving and abstained from any drinking. We got to the town of Meaford and had absolutely no idea where to go so I drove to the local Police station to ask if they knew these guys and directions to where they lived. Four officers were lounging around chatting, and when I walked in to the station I put a bottle of Crown Royal (unopened) on the night table and told them why we were there. Oh yes we know that pair of brothers as they tucked away the bottle, but if you went to their cabin an officer said that the one brother was such a marksman he would shoot out your headlights as you drove up the lane. Follow us, we will take you there and keep you safe. They jumped in their cruiser and we followed them for a few miles at a very high rate of speed when suddenly they turned into a cornfield and with us following, corn stalks falling left and right we came up to their cabin. There was our Pontiac with a man sitting behind the wheel. It had a dent in the right front fender. I opened the driver’s door and the one brother, dead drunk rolled out onto the ground. I grabbed the car keys and followed the officers as they entered the cabin. Down a flight of steps came the other brother pulling on a red checked flannel shirt and asked what in hell was going on.
The Police asked me about laying charges and I replied, Gentlemen I have the keys, I don’t care about the bill, I just want to get that car back home. It was in the wee hours when we got back to Goderich and that bottle under the seat remain untapped. That ended the lost car saga but all new scrutiny of the rental rules were soon put in place at the garage
Another rental story. A local small business owner (no names given out in this story) every once in awhile would rent a car from us, rather strange as he had a car but maybe his wife needed it. It ends up that he had a girlfriend in London. On this trip however an obviously jealous person seen that he was at her residence and slashed all four tires on our rental car. He phoned me about what to do and my reply was you are going to have to find a tire shop to come and pick up the car and install four new tires of the same brand. Between the lateness of getting home and the cost of that trip I wondered if he thought this affair was worth it.
Here is a story about our Literature shop. I had been contacted by a man in Vineland New Jersey about a large amount of old Chrysler literature he had for sale that was very desirous. I told him what I would pay and he said he had the same offer from another source and the first person to get to his place with the cash, owned the literature.
To talk my wife into going I told her it was only 40 miles to Atlantic City from Vineland and we would go there for some casino fun for a couple of days. I grabbed an older GMC Suburban from the dealership and off we went on this long journey. We arrived at his house about 11pm and sure enough there was lots of good literature, but in the basement. We got two young neighbour lads to help and we dragged this stuff up the stairs and into the Suburban until it could not possibly hold any more. We had to leave some behind. Now off to Atlantic City. One of the boxes of literature was in a Heinz tomato kechup box and sat propped up in the rear window for all to see. On the way there the muffler blew so now the Beverley hillbillies were pulling up to valet parking at a fine Hotel/Casino to check in. We must have made quite a sight!
Now we are heading home, got the literature through Customs at Buffalo and now out onto the QEW. Before long I heard a noise and seen a wheelcover fly past me. We had blown a rear tire, certainly caused by overload. I phoned the OPP for help
and told them I needed a tow truck to lift up my vehicle to install the spare. While waiting I started unloading the back of the suburban to get at the spare to find out it was half flat. In the meantime it starts to rain and we have all this literature sitting outside. My wife had packed a blanket that our daughter had, called “strawberry shortcake” and we laid it over the literature laying on the roadside. The next thing we seen happening was truckers stopping as we were in distress and finally a Police car came zooming down the centre median and pulled up behind our vehicle followed by an Ambulance. It seems someone passing had phoned the Police that we were in trouble and a body was covered in a blanket on the roadside. This female cop, less than five foot tall got out of her cruiser and came running up with paramedics right behind her. With that I pulled back the blanket to show her the literature underneath. She went about three colours in the face and stormed back to the cruiser at the same time as the tow truck arrived. Finally the tow truck lifted up the back end of this grossly overloaded vehicle, changed the tire, blew up the spare as much as he could and was gone. We had to limp to a garage off the QEW to finish blowing up the tire and eventually made it home. Why my wife has stayed by me side all these years I will never know.
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