Winter 1977

Growing up in a small town gave everyone a perfect opportunity to learn from the mistakes made by those who came before you, or benefit from their creativity.  My father was and is one of the best pranksters I have ever known.  He used to love to scare my mother whenever the opportunity presented itself.  If he could scare the kids then that was icing on the cake.

I remember as a child that my father used to love to drive into the pile of snow behind the Aspen Ice Gardens.  This pile was there summer and winter but always best in the winter.  It was left there by the Zamboni after cleaning the ice every day.  My father would speed up and drive straight for the pile causing the snow to fly everywhere.  Seconds later, we would emerge from the other side and proceed on to our destination but not without some sort of consternation from my mom and laughter from the backseat.  My father did this on numerous occasions over the years always getting the same response.

Turn the clock forward to a time when I had finally earned my driver’s license.  Taking a cue from my father, I could hardly wait to do some of the pranks my father had done over the years including the snow pile behind the Ice Gardens.  Finally my chance, we all climbed into my 1957 Willys Jeep complete with a metal hard top which allowed a fuller vehicle since there were walls to keep everyone in.  We headed into town from high school for a quick lunch at the Bagel Nosh.  It was a nice sunny day, and I thought it to be the perfect setting to scare the wits out of my friends including Ham Tharp, Katy Greene and Tina Rosolack.  We rounded the corner at First Street and Hopkins heading directly for the snow pile about a block away.  Naturally, I sped up for maximum effect.  By the time we reached the pile I must have been going 20 or 25 miles per hour.  As my friends began to scream I could do nothing but laugh harder and harder the closer we got.  Then, all of the sudden with a loud bang we came to a stop.  No snow flew up over the windshield; in fact the world seemed sideways at that very moment.  The eight of us exited the Jeep out the passenger door, one at a time.  None of us were injured, but they all let me know how they felt about the results of my prank.

The Jeep laid there on its side with the snow pile behind it.  Although the Jeep experienced minor damage, the snow pile barely even showed a mark where we had hit it.  What could have possibly gone wrong?  My father had done this many times before and never did he experience the same outcome as we had just lived through.  Upon closer inspection of the snow pile we learned that it was as frozen solid as an iceberg.  The weather the night before had turned this innocent looking pile of snow into a solid block of ice.

One of the neighbors had called the police and at the very same moment they arrived, the Industrial Education teacher for the Middle School showed up to check on us.  The police officer was ready to cart me off to jail had it not been for the forceful support of my former teacher, Tyron Thompson.  As soon as the local constable departed the scene, our teacher and my friends all banded together to flip the Jeep back on its wheels as we continued off to lunch.  As for keeping this one a secret, the damage was done.  Aside from a broken leaf spring on the Jeep, some of us had fathers who listened to the Police scanner; so, my secret was out.  When I arrived at home I was met by my Uncle, Paul Beck in our driveway who informed me that I was heading into danger.  He took me aside and told me a secret; telling me that I may need the information shortly.  As I entered the house my father was standing there, and he did not look too happy.  I suddenly realized the value of the information shared with me just moments before.  As my father proceeded to scold me I asked him to tell me about the day he drove his dad’s brand new Corvette down Aspen Mountain.