Memories ~
From Falls Church to Kilmarnock
© 2007 Abilini's Computer Services
Moving Day
(June 1973)
The house in Falls Hill was a three story, 4 bedrooms, full-size living room,
full-size dining room, eat-in kitchen, whole house basement (one-half was the
laundry room, the other half was a finished family room), and single-car garage;
needless to say it was a big house, but by 1973 had served its purpose. The
children count had gone from seven to one, and this house was no longer
required. So, my mother, my father and I got up, around 6 am, had breakfast and
prepared for the moving van to arrive. Around 7 am, my mother asked my father
to move my sister Donna’s car, out of the driveway, so the moving van could park
there. My father was very busy at the time so I volunteered to move the car
(boy was that a mistake)!
I was 14, had never driven a car and had never used a clutch. I ran out of the
house and jumped into the car. Donna’s car was a Fiat Spider, lemon yellow, two
seater (i.e. no back seat), the keys were above the visor as everyone in our
family kept their keys there. Lock your car, are you stupid! If you lock it,
then they will break something, in order to steal it. Are you nuts!?? I
figured out that the car wouldn’t start unless you depressed the clutch, but I
couldn’t seem to get the car in reverse. So I let gravity do its thing and just
let the car roll down the driveway. Well it stopped when it got to the pavement
so I had to figure out how to find reverse. On the top of the stick shift
lever, it showed a R in the top right side of the knob. I put the shifter to
the R and released the clutch. It stalled out, several times, so, being 14, I
figured it just needed more gas. This time, I started it up, gave it
more gas and released the clutch. Wow! What a ride. I made a complete 360 in
less than a second, all going forward by the way, and put Donna’s car, front
bumper first into the side of my father’s Dodge Dart.
Well, I don’t know why, but the only person I saw was my father; I didn’t see
any of my neighbors, just dad. He didn’t say a word. I had to climb out of the
cars window, cause the door wouldn’t open, walked to the front of the house,
where my father was standing, and he just pointed at the inside of the house,
still not talking. I walked past him into the house, where my mother looked at
me in disbelief and said, “get in the basement, pack some boxes and pray he
doesn’t kill you.” All of this occurred at precisely 7 am. A few minutes
later, my father came in. He had to pry Donna’s car door open, and he parked her
car behind his car. He walked into the kitchen, to the closest phone, and
called the insurance agent. He calmly explained to the agent that his
foot had slipped off of the brake and he put his daughter’s car into the
side of his car. My name was never mentioned. Dad hung up the phone and mom
was the one who called Donna, at her boyfriend’s house, and told her about the
accident. Mom expected Donna to be furious, but for some reason Donna wasn’t.
Instead Donna was sobbing into the phone and said, “Jack is going to kill me, I
just wrecked his truck.” My mother, being her mother too, asked if she was all
right and then quietly asked, “what time did this occur?” Donna told her,
around 7 am. They talked for a bit, then mom hung up the phone and told us, the
main part of the conversation. i.e. Donna wrecked Jack’s truck at 7 am. About
ten to fifteen minutes later, Anne calls from Virginia Tech (Anne is Donna’s
twin sister) and asks for mom. I hand the phone over and Anne proceeds to ask
for the number to the car insurance agency. Mom didn’t flinch, just read Anne
the number and then asked “what happened, are you alright?” Anne told mom “that
she was fine, but while pulling out of her parking space, she backed into the
side of a car that she didn’t see, behind her”, mom, again being mom, asked,
“When did this happen?” Anne told her, “at precisely 7 am.” There are seven
children in this family, one isn’t old enough to drive (me) and the other six
are not in the general area (I always thought, that they knew moving day, would
mean they would have to help, too, if they were there).
About ten minutes later, after hanging up the phone with Anne, the phone rings
again. It’s Gail, who lives with her husband in Warrenton, Virginia, she is
crying and tells mom, that she wrecked her truck backing into a tree. Mom looks
at dad, and says, “This is one strange day”. Of course, Gail has no idea what
mom is talking about. And mom explains to Gail and everyone else who is in the
kitchen, the moving men, dad and me, that over the last hour, four of our family
has had some kind of car accident. And then mom asks Gail, “What time did this
accident occur?” Gail replies, “Around 7 am”. Mom giggles a bit and hangs up the
phone. For a little while, mom stays in the kitchen, waiting for the phone to
ring. She hasn’t heard from her son, Rick, who lives in the southwest part of
the state, with his wife, or from Mary (dad’s daughter) who lives in Washington,
D.C. An hour or so later, around 9:30 am, the phone rings, it’s Nancy calling
from Salt Lake City and she is crying. I hand the phone to mom, who simply
asks, “What happened to your car?” Nancy, probably in shock, explained to
mom that she nearly hit her husband, John, with the car and instead swerved and
hit the side of the house. Mom stated, “Oh my, are you alright, how is John and
what time did this happen?” Anyone not in our family, would probably say, who
cares what time it happened. But Nancy simply said, “She was fine, so is John,
it happened about 30 minutes, ago”; you could see the gears turning in moms
head as she figured out that Utah is two hours, behind us, so that would make
the accident right around 7 am, their time. Mom talked to Nancy for a while,
and we went on with our move.
We are now in the new house (the house was my father’s first house in Virginia,
and he had been renting it out for the past 14 years, well it’s new to me!)
Around 6 pm, the phone rings. It’s Rick calling. He asks, “How did the move go?”
And mom begins the explanation of what had happened that day. Well, some where
along the way, Rick cuts her off and says something to the effect, “That’s kind
of funny, Wanda (his wife) at 7 am, parked the car in the car port, didn’t set
the emergency brake, left the car in neutral and the car rolled down the
driveway and hit the telephone pole, knocking out the electricity and phone
service, to the entire street. We just got it back on.” Mom had to find a
chair, she was laughing so hard, and Rick continued, telling her, “That their
Mennonite neighbor’s, were the ones who found the car, and that if the electric
company saw the car there that Rick would be charged for the repairs.” Rick then
told her that he quickly moved the car back into the carport and set the brake.
As he was walking back down the driveway, he heard his neighbor explaining to
the power company man, that as they were going by, their horse got spooked and
reared back, forcing their buggy into the power pole.’ Rick was ecstatic because
he knew that there was nothing that the power company could do as Mennonites
don’t use any modern devices or electricity. Rick thanked them and told them
anything they needed help with; he was the one to ask. Mom hung up the phone,
looked at dad and said, “I need a drink, make it a triple”.
At 7 am, on a day in June 1973, the Adams/Lockhart family managed to damage
eight (seven of our own) vehicles, at least one tree, the side of a house and at
least one power pole. My father, then called my sister Mary, his daughter, and
asked, “How are things with you and Gerry (her husband) and is your car
alright?” Gerry’s car was fine, probably because, Mary didn’t get her license,
until she was 40, just didn’t need to drive in DC.