Loy's Version Of The Story

Actually, it went something like this...

Jana and I were on our way Saturday to Osawatomie, KS to get our long awaited 1949 C-cab 3/4 - ton Studebaker pickup. We left Brownfield at about 10 AM and had planned to drive Amarillo, TX. on I-27, then east on I-40 to Oklahoma City, OK. and then take I-35 north to Wichita, KS. to spend the night. Sunday morning we planned to travel on to Ottawa, KS and then across to the town of Osawatomie, KS on Sunday morning.We planned to arrive at our destination by noon Sunday the 14th of March. We had been planning this little excursion for a little over three months and had been keeping the specifics of our plans under wraps since the C-cab was yet to be claimed and paid for.

Well...a little storm was blowing through NorthCentral Oklahoma about the time we left Oklahoma City and headed north on I-35. We were not too apprehensive about the storm since we have a little bad weather once in awhile in NW Texas and we were travelling in a friend's 1999 F**d 1-Ton 4X4. The owner's manual in the glove box had instructions on how to operate this monster wielding a snow plow on the front entitled "Plowing Instructions." Well, hell's-bells! What do we have to worry about with just a little old Spring Snow Duster coming through?

About 45 minutes out of Oklahoma City we could tell we were in for a long drive to Wichita. Traffic in front of us had slowed to a crawl behind a troup of 18 wheelers who were blazing a trail northward through the ever increasing mass of snow feathers bombarding our windshield. I wasn't too concerned with the situation and was riding shot-gun and giving Jana some wheel time so that she could practice her driving. It was her first time to pull a tandem-axle trailer behind a diesel 1-Ton on slick roads. She needed the experience. Since traffic was bogging down in front of us I started to look for a place to pull in for some diesel and to make a restroom stop. We saw the familiar Texaco Star sign and I told Jana it would be a good time to take a break. We exited onto Highway 51 at mile post 174. Something in the back of my mind kept poking at my memory circuits. The sign that said "Stillwater 16 Miles" was stuck back behind the cobwebs somewhere. I just couldn't drag it's meaning to the conscious part of my brain to make it register.

After fueling the truck, I noticed this strange looking fellow peering at me over the magazine rack. He had little beadie eyes behind a pair of dark, thick-rimmed glasses set on a face outlined with white hair poking out from beneath a baseball cap. He had a quirky little grin on his face as he eyed my Studebaker T-shirt. He spoke to me...

"Hey! I have a Studebaker at home in my shop. Do you like Studebakers?" "Sure," I said. "What kind of Studebaker do you have, little fellow?" He says, Come, let me show it to you!"

Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I look over at Jana (coming out of the Ladies room and say, "Hey, this guy has an old Studebaker he wants us to look at."

The next thing I know we are following this strange little guy toward Stillwater, OK. Jana is frowning at me, saying nothing except "We could be in Wichita in two hours and I'm getting sleepy!" "I know, I know...but this will only take a few minutes and then we'll be headed north again," I assured her.

We arrived in Stillwater awhile later and...I know I'm not real familiar with Stillwater, OK. (since this was my first time in town) but I know the same Auto-Zone store upon seeing it the fourth time in 10 minutes. I was fairly certain this guy was leading me in circles trying to get me turned around. Then this guy makes a U-turn on 12th Street and heads back up the road we had been going down for ten or eleven blocks and takes us out the east side of Stillwater for another 4-5 miles on Highway 177. Glancing to the buildings lining the sides of Hwy. 177, I realize that these are not bars or gambling joints, but houses with the Christmas lights still on them...in the middle of March, fer Crissakes! I start to think that this guy was probably hanging out at the Texaco station off the Interstate jotting down phone numbers in his black book off the Men's room walls. Just as I was about to pull over and make another U-turn the guy whips a left turn into a driveway, rolls down his window and motions frantically for me to follow him down the winding driveway where I could see the twinkle of lights from a house and could make out the outline of a pole with a snow-covered, burned out mercury vapor light attached to the top from a bracket.

"We'll just take a quick look at his Studebaker and we'll be back on the road again," I tell Jana (who is looking rather worried by this time). "You know, I saw this movie one time that reminds me of this," she says. "...a show titled 'Bates Motel'"

About the time we pull off the highway and start down the winding, descending, narrow, snow-lined driveway toward the house, I see two four-wheel drive vehicles pull in behind me blocking the driveway's exit to the highway. Two guys get out and one drags a fairly large tree limb across the entrance. The guy we had been following in the Dodge pickup suddenly spins sideways in the driveway blocking the path down to the house. He gets out and approaches our truck on the passenger side with his hands in his coat pockets. "Do you think he's got a gun?" says Jana. "I don't know, just keep calm and do what he says to do," I say.

"You'll have to walk the rest of the way to the house," he says as we roll down the window, "Don't try to go any further, you'll get stuck if you try." Stuck...? He must have a knife, I'm thinking. If all he has is a knife I can jump him and take it away at just the right time. "Grab your things and come on down to the house," he says next. "Your truck will be just fine where it's at."

Once inside the house we are next acosted by a sweet looking lady in a house coat. I could tell that she must be the boss of this gang right away. The two guys who blocked the driveway with their four-wheeled drive vehicles were made to stay outside in the horrible weather. The little beady-eyed, white haired fellow in the baseball cap was obviously just a lower echelon member and went about doing exactly like the boss lady told him to do. He gathered up our bags and headed off into another room (likely to search through them for anything of value). Once back in the main room, he encouraged me to follow him out to the shed behind the house to look at his Studebaker. "I'll have to time my move perfectly while he is off-guard," I'm thinking to myself, "or we'll likely end up as plant fertilizer in his boss lady's flower beds this Spring."

We exit the house and head down a snow-covered pathway out to a round-topped shed in the back yard. He walks behind me directing me which way to go. He must be planning on an attack from the rear, I'm thinking. We reach the door at one end of the shed and he reaches past me to unlock the door and pull it open. I am just about to unload with a left elbow to the solar plexus when he swings the door open and I spot a beautiful shape in the shadows just past a small farm tractor. It IS a Studebaker! He wasn't lying! Suddenly I forget the compromising situation we are in and head back to the rear of the shed searching for a light switch. He reaches behind my right shoulder and flips a switch illuminating the room.

"Wow! What a cool looking '54 coupe! Whoever fixed this little car up knew what they were doing!" I say. Then I catch myself...I wonder who was hijacked for them to get their hands on this little car, I think to myself.

The guy then introduces himself, "Hello, my name is Dave Lester.I thought you might like this car when I saw your Studebaker t-shirt back at the Texaco station." What do you know...one of the guys from the Studebaker News Group! I wonder what he was doing hanging out at the Texaco station on a night like this? My question was soon answered..."Hardly anybody in these parts care anything about Studebakers." He says. "I spend alot of time at the places along the Interstate looking for someone who might be interested in them. You never know when someone might be passing through who knows something about Studebakers or who might want to have a look at one to see what they looked like." Man, what a Stude-advocate, this Dave Lester is!

We walk back up to the house after about 2 hours in the shop. My ears are ringing. This guy has been right over my shoulder the whole time telling me how he and another fellow went about restoring, remodeling and updating this little car which he so lovingly adores. When we walk into the house I see Jana and Karen (What's Her Face) about to wear their jaw-joints out talking to each other. Nothing would do but for us to bed down for the night in the comfort and hospitality of the home of this wonderful Oklahoma couple.

Dave and Karen Lester were the finest examples of SouthWestern hospitality north of the Red River. Not only did they treat us to a comfortable bed and a great breakfast, but entertained us with stories of their three sons and experiences of Oklahomans whose roots run deep in the red clay soil of Oklahoma land. During the evening, Dave treated me to some back yard cattle rustling (must be some kind of Oklahoma tradition) and the next morning we had some real fun four-wheeling in the neat mud and snow of his front yard. His driveway is a virtual four-wheel track once he gets it all wet down and snow covered. It would rival the best slop-tracks in the country! We are REALLY looking forward to getting together with them again, soon!

Loy Daniel 

p.s. - The part about pulling into a Texaco station and running into the strange fellow was made up. We were in a real pickle with the bad weather, barely did make it off the Interstate and into Stillwater, there were NO rooms at ANY of the motels in town and the four-wheel drive on the F**d 1-Ton was not working. The truck was like a big red beached whale on the slick roads. We called Dave Lester for help as a last resort and he and Karen came through for us when we really needed some help. Our heart-felt THANK YOU goes out to both of them for their help and warm hospitality. True friends now.

Dave's Rebuttal To The Story

Well, I can see you had lottsa time to think on yer way home. Also, I see that I am going to have to tell the REAL story.

It was a dark and stormy night. Real stormy. Like two, maybe three snowflakes had fallen. What's Her Face and I were sitting in our living room, minding our own cottin' pickin' business when, "WHAM!!" Some guy hits one of the snowflakes, loses control of his lead-sled on the highway, races down our driveway 400' off the road, and takes out several trees. He gets out, yells, "HI! Got any Studebakers I kin look at? I've got a gun. Kin ah spend the night?" His lovely wife hangs her head, and says, "He wouldn't let me drive, or this wouldn't have happened."

I thought about just whippin’ this guy, ‘till he started getting out of the truck. Took him 3 minutes. I mean, he started unfolding, and just kept getting out. When he stood up, I looked up at him and said, "Sir, your room is ready."

He said, "OK, but just a minute. I missed a tree over there." He got back in the red beast and snagged another tree with the trailer. A snow flake became wedged under one of the truck tires, and away he went, spinning out of control, slinging my driveway up under his fender well, careening off of trees as he went. In one motion, he spun the truck around, causing the tree to fall across the driveway. He then blocked the driveway entrance with his rig, got out of the truck and said, "That ought to keep them smokies from following me."

He made me carry their belongings to the house. Took me three trips. "How long ya gonna stay?," I asked. "Long as I want to," he replied, then, "I’ll have a look at that Sudebaker now." We headed for my shop. I didn’t know whether to lead or follow. If this guy tripped on a snowflake, it’s gonna hurt if he falls on me. We looked at the car, and he said something about getting it on his trailer in the morning. "I’m ready to go to the house now," he says. On the way to the house, he spotted one of my neighbor’s cows. "I haven’t eaten yet," he mutters. Away he goes, chasing this cow. He lost sight of the cow, and went after the bull. "I want some milk, too." It wasn’t pretty. I got very little sleep that night.

Morning came. The bull was at the fence, with what appeared to be a smile on his face. He was looking for The Texican. The Texican's darling wife, Jana, decided to check out the bounty. We head for the shop again. "Just a minute," he said. "I see another tree I missed." Since the truck was still hung up on a snow flake, he walked over to the tree and pushed on it. Did I tell ya this guy is large? Crash! The tree hits the shop, but is held off of the ground by the highline wire. "That’s better," he says, "It’s beginning to look a little more like west Texas around here." Jana looks at the car, and tells him he can’t have it. She wants her house remodeled, and doesn’t want to have to build a garage for the car. Now, she’s a little bitty thing, but he follows instructions from her real well. Hanging his head, he says, "Yes, Dear."

The girls start breakfast. What’s Her Face doesn’t seem to realize the danger of the situation. She actually seems somehow enamored by this Bonnie and Clyde couple. The not-so-gentle giant says, "I wanna pull yer truck out before I go." "Oh, no," I says, "You’ve done enough, really." "Get a chain," he says, "I’m gonna do it." "You don’t need to do that, REALLY," I say. "GET A CHAIN I’m gonna DO IT," he orders. "Alrighty, then," I concede.

I get a chain, he gets his truck. Spinning wildly, he puts his truck in position. We pull on my truck, no go. His truck heads for one of the last remaining trees on the place. "Loy-Boy," Jana yells in her wonderful Texas drawl, "Don’t you scuff the unit!" He says to me, "I can’t get lined up on this tree with my bumper. Get a winch. I’ll stay here and spin my tires ‘till you get back." What's Her Face and Jana are sitting on the porch, eating bon-bons, laughing, and wanting to sell tickets to the show.

I get the winch. He looks across the yard at our big Maple tree. "How’d I miss that?" he queried. "I think that’s too big for the truck, and I’m too tired to push it over. Let’s see if we can pull it over with the winch." He ties off to the Maple, and tries to winch the truck out forward, with it in 4 wheel drive, in reverse. The only stroke of luck I had all week-end was that the 4 wheel drive didn’t work in the F**d.

Finally, both trucks are liberated from the muck. "Darn," he says, "I missed a spot in the drive way." He drives over to that spot, and spins his tires. "There," he says, laughing wildly, "She’s ALL tore up. We can go now." He was SO proud! That is, until he realized he was stuck again. There were no trees left to winch to, and my truck could not be put into position to help. My tractor was now trapped under a large tree, so I had to call a neighbor to help. Now I’m in trouble with What’s Her Face. Seems breakfast got cold.

As we are eating the remainder of the Cow the Texican rustled the night before, my neighbor shows up. "Keep that guy in the house," he says, "I saw enough of him last night, while I was on duty. I don’t have to deal with him on my own time. By the way, what the heck happened to your trees and driveway? Good thing I have the blade on my tractor!" "Don’t fix it!" The stranger hollers, "Took me all last night and this morning to do that! When you get my truck unstuck, throw Dave’s chain in the back. I need a chain."

Finally, they are ready to hit the road. "I’ll drop by on my way back through," I hear him say over the roar of the diesel. "Uh, OK," I say, "But, can we just meet you in town?" We did meet them in town when they came back through, I admired their new pick up, but worried about the lady that sold it to them. Jana said something about it looking like a tornado had gone through the poor lady’s place. I could relate to that.

We had a nice meal, and enjoyed a nice visit. I introduced them to cabbage rolls, tabbouleh, Houmas, and other Lebanese delicacies. Loy seemed to like it, ‘cause he said, "We’ll have to try this Lesbian food again some time."

All’s well that ends well. Thanks for the fun, Loy and Jana! Y’all come back now, hear?

Dave Lester