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Here Comes Andy

Story ID:10672
Written by:Charles Dishno (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Family Memories
Location:Bly Oregon USA
Year:1942
Person:Chuck
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Here Comes Andy
By Chuck Dishno
8/26/2015

Another memory from my early days….
1942
When I was but a wee lad growing up in my hometown, Bly, Oregon my brother Shad had a friend named Andy Miller. They first met while living on Quarts Mountain and attend the Ewauna grade school. This was about 1934 and when the woods shut down they all moved into Bly where they attended Bly High School. Both boys were about 17 or 18 years old.

Shad didn’t have a car but Andy had 1920’s Model T Ford. It was a touring model with a cloth top that folded back on top of the rear seat. Everywhere Andy went it was at top speed and seemed to have very limited brakes. He lived on the hill behind our house and would come down at break neck speed and skid into our backyard. Every time he would come visiting, you could hear him blowing his exhaust horn. (An exhaust horn is an attachment that put on the muffler and when pushing a button opens up a valve that lets exhaust escape thru a horn. It sounds like a steam locomotive whistle and can get very loud.) Andy also had the traditional bulb horn that, when squeezed made a loud “boop, boop” sound.

If I was out in the backyard, I could hear Andy start up his Model T and start down the hill. As he got up speed, it would shake and rattle; all the while Andy would be bowing his exhaust horn and squeezing his bulb horn. It would scare the bee-Jesus out of me and I would run into the house shouting, “Here comes, Andy.”

It wasn’t long before I got used to Andy’s arrival and actually looked forward to it. Andy and Shad were about 12 years older than me and would often invite me to go fishing with them.

Andy was a hoot. He had a southern accent, wore big clodhopper boots and a large black felt hat the drooped down all around the brim. I later likened him to one of the characters on Lil’ Abner who had come right out of the Ozarks. He also had a big red Irish Setter named, Clancy. Clancy went everywhere Andy went and his favorite seat was on the top fold of the rag top.

On one of our fishing outings, Shad and Andy sat in the front seat with me in the back. Clancy was sitting on his usual high seat. He would stretch his neck as high as he could to catch the wind coming over the top of the high windshield..As we were trammeling along a fast clip we came to a old wooden bridge across a small stream. The bridge was really rough and Andy’s tires weren’t in the best shape so he decided to skip the bridge and go beside it. The stream had almost dried up and was down to a trickle. When we hit the stream bed, though, the sand was soft and deep. As soon as the skinny Model T tires hit the sand they stopped us abruptly. We all flew forward and I looked up just in time to see Clancy, still in a sitting position fly through the air, just clearing the top of the windshield. He landed about 20 feet out in front, got up then came back, jumped in as though nothing had happened.

The old saying is; “Pigs don’t fly.” Maybe not but I can attest that dogs do since I saw Clancy doing it.