I said i would start sharing my car stories and now that I have a little time.... I think I will.

For a very brief period in high school (I believed I had just turned 16 or 17) I had a white 1967 Buick Skylark convertible (purchased for the princely sum of $800). It was slow as hell, rusty, had a crusty 330 V8 with a 2 barrel carb and had the worst transmission of the worst. A Buick two speed Jetaway trans. With over 200,000 miles on the clock, it was more than used - it was abused. The only thing that made it cool for all the kids far and wide was the fact that it was a ragtop with a V8 engine. At highway speeds the trans and rear end was as noisy as an aircraft carrier - but it was mine.

One night a friend had a party at his place and when it was over we were all walking back to our cars. To my surprise I found 2 kids sitting in my car fishing under the dash for something. I hear them mumbling about the possibility of a hidden stereo system (NO, all I had was a feeble factory AM radio). I told my friends to hang back while I approached them. I ask them if it's their car. One of them gives me a surprised look and tells me, yeah it's his car without batting an eye. Alright, my mistake I say and proceed to pretend walking away. They go back to their business of fiddling with the dash.

In the meantime, I've taken this time to come about to the driver's side of my car. My friends (about 3 of them) were giggling in the distance and that ruined it for me. The two kids turn around and see my three guys in the distance and panic. They both try to bolt. I mention try, because only one of the two kids manage to get away.

The kid on the driver's side jumped out of the car and was about to turn to run. Impulsively, I kicked the car door shut, slamming and pinning it on his right hand. If you've ever had a car door slam on your hand, you know how much it hurts - but the door of my '67 Skylark had no weatherstripping protection on the side and weighed 3 times as much as a modern car door. I still remember the sound of metal crushing bone to this day. That sound was followed by the agonizing scream of the would-be thief.

My three buddies had chased after the other guy so it was just me and him. He's screaming obscenities at me while I grab my cellphone and dial 911. I was on hold for about 5-10 minutes and in the meantime the homeowners on the block are coming out to find out what the commotion is all about (it was about 3:00 AM at the time). At this time I announce that this kid tried to break into my car and I'm holding him until the cops arrive. Only 4 people show up and two of them are applauding my efforts by clapping. One of them walks away and the other is telling me that I cannot use excess force to hold him. The kid screams at me that he's going to "cut my nuts off with his knife". Great! Now the possibility exists that he has a knife on him so I have every reason to keep him pinned. I even have witnesses!



I ignore him and talk to the officer on the phone. I tell her that I have a crook for her to pick up and ask her if he wants to talk to him. The kid proceeds to say that he is going to kill "every one of us for making him go through this including the pigs". Now I have witnesses that he is uttering death threats. I explain the situation and she informs me there will be a unit there within 1/2 an hour. In the meantime, he continues screaming for another 5-10 minutes than goes silent. I presume he passed out from the pain. The cops arrive, demand that I back away from my vehicle and come over to theirs. They move in and open up the car door. One looks him over while the other radios for an ambulance. Another few minutes later an ambulance appears and they throw him in the back.

I had to give a lengthy statement and spend a lot of time at the local police station answering a WHOLE lot of questions ad nausem. It was rough because for a while I was treated like a criminal until they questioned all the witnesses. My parents had to come down and they were NOT impressed at the time (my father still chuckles about the incident to this day). The cops let me go because 1) I was a minor and 2) the thief really DID have a knife on him and I did what I had to in order to protect myself.

Ah, to be young and impulsive again.....