The wrecker hauling away the totalled and burned-up car
that wrecked in front of Mac Davenport's home had the
name of A-1 Auto Salvage in red lettering on its white
doors. It was the same company that owned and operated
the auto parts remanufacturing and distribution center where
Mac Davenport was employed.
In the cab of the wrecker, the driver, Mike Gorman, was
transporting the remains of the vehicle to the salvage yard
to be examined by authorities and auto insurance reps.
The assistant riding with Gorman, a thirty-something Hispanic
man named Carlos Rodriguez looked in Gorman's direction and
said, "Y' know, the guy that wrecked don' know how lucky he
was to've crashed in front a' Davenport's home."
"Yeah," Gorman replied, "Mac being a former firefighter, I
say that fellow was very lucky."
He glanced in the rear-view mirror on his left at the charred
wreck on his truck and added, "Very lucky."
"When you seh 'lucky' that jus' remind me a' something,"
Rodriguez said.
"What's that, Carlos?"
"Mac, he don' believe in no luck. He believe in bein' blessed he
call it." He grinned and shook his head.
"Oh yeah," Gorman marvelled, "That religion of his. Being born-
-again they call it."
"Man, wha' that guy say really bug me sometime," Carlos griped,
"Like it th' only religion there ez."
"I know what you mean," Gorman agreed then said, "But whether
you agree with him or not, I believe he's sincere. Off-base maybe, but
sincere."
"Yeah man, like a' way off-base."
Gorman drove the flat-bed wrecker through Main Street going east until
it became Newberry-Kaiser Road and three miles out was the salvage yard
where Gorman and Rodriguez were heading to.
As they neared the entrance to the salvage yard, Gorman continued with,
"Mac's beliefs may annoy you as sometimes they do me, but if it weren't for
him we may not have gotten jobs here."
He then added, " Mac's faith seems to be rubbin' off on Gus."
At the A-1 Auto Salvage yard, August 'Gus' Washington, a 40-year-old
divorced African-American man, was taking inventory of the wrecks that
were recently brought to the yard.
While writing in his clipboard, he kept thinking about Mac and what Mac
was telling him how he believed. Gus had heard about what Mac had gone
through before returning to Newberry and how despite his tragedies kept
on as if nothing at all happened.
Gus thought out loud, "As corny as his beliefs may sound, I believe Mac's
the real deal."
He also was thinking of how grateful he was to Mac for helping him,
Carlos and Mike for getting jobs here. They seemed to have no luck
anywhere else.
Gus, Carlos and Mike were all three military vets though they hadn't served
together. Gus was a motor pool mechanic in the Army, Carlos served in the
Air Force maintaining aircraft service vehicles, and Mike, who also was an
Air Force vet, was an aircraft ground refueling technician that took some
automotive tech courses after being discharged from duty. All served
faithfully and all three honorably discharged.
But the economy at the time of their discharges was not on their side and
frequent bouts with unemployment, alcoholism and failed marriages with
Gus and Michael, and the cancelled engagement with Carlos and his
fiancee' had made them outcasts of society.
By fate they had met Mac Davenport and in turn met each other when by
sheer coincidence they were all three hired on by A-1, courtesy of Mac
Davenport's influence and the fact that Mac too, was a military vet who
after hearing of their miltary backgrounds had taken a liking to the three
men.
Gus Washington, Carlos Rodriguez, and Mike Gorman had developed
strong male bondings between each other and became close buddies.
Their interest in cars and their automotive technical skills had branched
out to recreation as well as occupation. They rode dirt bikes together
which they salvaged and rebuilt, customized their personal vehicles
each to their own liking and each one also had own class of vehicle
they worked on, for Gus it was old station wagons and former police
cars, or any old emergency vehicle on a car chassis, for Carlos it
was old pick-ups and as for Mike, it was old Volkswagens and
classic roadsters.
The avid automotive interests and activities of the three men had
earned them the nickname of the Car Kooks by Mac Davenport.
The name stuck. In fact the three "car kooks" decided to live up
to the name by wearing hats that represented the cars they each
specialized in. For Gus since he specialized in emergency vehicles
was an old dark-blue service cap, for Carlos since his was pick-ups,
his was a western-style hat, and as for Mike, since it was VWs, it
was a drab gray WWII German helmet, add goggles if he was
driving a roadster. Car kooks indeed.
Gus thought about Mac's generosity then looked up and smiled.
"Is Mac your servant, God? Gus asked looking at the sky. "He
sure does act like it."
Gus then looked back down then toward the left when he saw
the wrecker pull in bringing another wreck to be added to the
countless others Gus was already inventorying.
Gus heard the truck blow its horn to signify its arrival and Gus
went to meet it. He walked toward the driver's side and when
he got there Gorman rolled down his window. "Another one
for ya' Gus!" Gorman called out. Gus acknowledged with,
"Over there in that space where the white Grand Am is next
to."
"Got'cha!" Gorman drove foreward toward the space next to
a white Pontiac Grand Am that's passenger door was smashed
inward, as if struck by a fast-moving vehicle when crossing an
intersection. Gus watched as Mike headed toward the designated
spot and whip the wrecker around to back in and off-load the
roasted compact sedan.
Gus looked up at the charred auto and let out a 'whew' through
his teeth and shook his head.
"Man," he said to himself, "I hope nobody got burnt."
Little did he know that someone did.
This concludes Chapter 15.
that wrecked in front of Mac Davenport's home had the
name of A-1 Auto Salvage in red lettering on its white
doors. It was the same company that owned and operated
the auto parts remanufacturing and distribution center where
Mac Davenport was employed.
In the cab of the wrecker, the driver, Mike Gorman, was
transporting the remains of the vehicle to the salvage yard
to be examined by authorities and auto insurance reps.
The assistant riding with Gorman, a thirty-something Hispanic
man named Carlos Rodriguez looked in Gorman's direction and
said, "Y' know, the guy that wrecked don' know how lucky he
was to've crashed in front a' Davenport's home."
"Yeah," Gorman replied, "Mac being a former firefighter, I
say that fellow was very lucky."
He glanced in the rear-view mirror on his left at the charred
wreck on his truck and added, "Very lucky."
"When you seh 'lucky' that jus' remind me a' something,"
Rodriguez said.
"What's that, Carlos?"
"Mac, he don' believe in no luck. He believe in bein' blessed he
call it." He grinned and shook his head.
"Oh yeah," Gorman marvelled, "That religion of his. Being born-
-again they call it."
"Man, wha' that guy say really bug me sometime," Carlos griped,
"Like it th' only religion there ez."
"I know what you mean," Gorman agreed then said, "But whether
you agree with him or not, I believe he's sincere. Off-base maybe, but
sincere."
"Yeah man, like a' way off-base."
Gorman drove the flat-bed wrecker through Main Street going east until
it became Newberry-Kaiser Road and three miles out was the salvage yard
where Gorman and Rodriguez were heading to.
As they neared the entrance to the salvage yard, Gorman continued with,
"Mac's beliefs may annoy you as sometimes they do me, but if it weren't for
him we may not have gotten jobs here."
He then added, " Mac's faith seems to be rubbin' off on Gus."
At the A-1 Auto Salvage yard, August 'Gus' Washington, a 40-year-old
divorced African-American man, was taking inventory of the wrecks that
were recently brought to the yard.
While writing in his clipboard, he kept thinking about Mac and what Mac
was telling him how he believed. Gus had heard about what Mac had gone
through before returning to Newberry and how despite his tragedies kept
on as if nothing at all happened.
Gus thought out loud, "As corny as his beliefs may sound, I believe Mac's
the real deal."
He also was thinking of how grateful he was to Mac for helping him,
Carlos and Mike for getting jobs here. They seemed to have no luck
anywhere else.
Gus, Carlos and Mike were all three military vets though they hadn't served
together. Gus was a motor pool mechanic in the Army, Carlos served in the
Air Force maintaining aircraft service vehicles, and Mike, who also was an
Air Force vet, was an aircraft ground refueling technician that took some
automotive tech courses after being discharged from duty. All served
faithfully and all three honorably discharged.
But the economy at the time of their discharges was not on their side and
frequent bouts with unemployment, alcoholism and failed marriages with
Gus and Michael, and the cancelled engagement with Carlos and his
fiancee' had made them outcasts of society.
By fate they had met Mac Davenport and in turn met each other when by
sheer coincidence they were all three hired on by A-1, courtesy of Mac
Davenport's influence and the fact that Mac too, was a military vet who
after hearing of their miltary backgrounds had taken a liking to the three
men.
Gus Washington, Carlos Rodriguez, and Mike Gorman had developed
strong male bondings between each other and became close buddies.
Their interest in cars and their automotive technical skills had branched
out to recreation as well as occupation. They rode dirt bikes together
which they salvaged and rebuilt, customized their personal vehicles
each to their own liking and each one also had own class of vehicle
they worked on, for Gus it was old station wagons and former police
cars, or any old emergency vehicle on a car chassis, for Carlos it
was old pick-ups and as for Mike, it was old Volkswagens and
classic roadsters.
The avid automotive interests and activities of the three men had
earned them the nickname of the Car Kooks by Mac Davenport.
The name stuck. In fact the three "car kooks" decided to live up
to the name by wearing hats that represented the cars they each
specialized in. For Gus since he specialized in emergency vehicles
was an old dark-blue service cap, for Carlos since his was pick-ups,
his was a western-style hat, and as for Mike, since it was VWs, it
was a drab gray WWII German helmet, add goggles if he was
driving a roadster. Car kooks indeed.
Gus thought about Mac's generosity then looked up and smiled.
"Is Mac your servant, God? Gus asked looking at the sky. "He
sure does act like it."
Gus then looked back down then toward the left when he saw
the wrecker pull in bringing another wreck to be added to the
countless others Gus was already inventorying.
Gus heard the truck blow its horn to signify its arrival and Gus
went to meet it. He walked toward the driver's side and when
he got there Gorman rolled down his window. "Another one
for ya' Gus!" Gorman called out. Gus acknowledged with,
"Over there in that space where the white Grand Am is next
to."
"Got'cha!" Gorman drove foreward toward the space next to
a white Pontiac Grand Am that's passenger door was smashed
inward, as if struck by a fast-moving vehicle when crossing an
intersection. Gus watched as Mike headed toward the designated
spot and whip the wrecker around to back in and off-load the
roasted compact sedan.
Gus looked up at the charred auto and let out a 'whew' through
his teeth and shook his head.
"Man," he said to himself, "I hope nobody got burnt."
Little did he know that someone did.
This concludes Chapter 15.
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