PATCHING A TIRE
IN THE "GOOD OLE'DAYS"

Across the Fence 






By Arvord Abernethy 

For two years you have permitted me to drop by about every week and have a little chat with you across the fence. For one thing, I’ve learned that the more you know about people the more you like them. It has been a pleasure to have been in many of your homes for a visit, 

Thanks for your kind words of encouragement you have given me and also your tips on something that might be of interest. It is not always easy to have something to say, as you will see when you read this week’s article. 

Do you remember how we used to slap a cold patch on the car’s inner-tube when you had a flat? Our city dads had to do something like that when a hole came in the street where North Bell crosses Pecan Creek. 

A good size hole fell in when a heavy load passed over it, so it had to be patched. They solved it by slapping a large cold patch of 8 inch concrete on the street and then feather-edging it on all sides with asphalt, making a neat, safe patch. 

This patching business reminds many of us of our experience with flat tires. Why did it seem to always happen when we were all dressed up to go to church or visiting? The first hint that something was wrong was when the car seemed to weave around some, but you blamed it on the ruts in the road. You would give it all the gas you could, hoping to get to your destination before the tire went down. 

Then it happened, the rough, jolting ride told you that you definitely had a flat. Everyone had to get out so you could get the jack, tire tools, and Monkey Grip patching material from under the seat. There was one good thing about those early cars, it wasn’t far from either end of the car to the axle you needed to jack up. 

A tire tool usually came with the car, but one of the best ones you could get was a leaf out of the spring of your old wagon springseat. You figured you would never need to the spring seat again. By using two tire tools you could soon have the tire off unless it was a real new one and had never been off before. 

With the tube out, you would stretch it across the front fender and give it a good buffing with the roughened end of the Monkey Grip can. Then you would apply some of the glue, if it hadn’t dried up, to the buffed spot and let it set a few moments before applying the patch you had cut with your pocket knife. 

Everything seemed to be going fine as you got the tire back on. The good wife handed you the pump and you started pumping. After several hard strokes, the tire didn’t seem to be getting any tighter. You would take off the pump and hold the hose close to the ground, hit a few hard strokes to see if the pump was working. The dust would fly and you knew the pump was all right. There was just one dismal conclusion; there was another hole in the tube. 

By this time the sun was getting higher and hotter and your spirits were getting lower and hotter. It didn’t take as long to get the tire off the second time to reveal that you had pinched a hole in the tube with the tire tools as you put it back on the first time. 

The second patch was soon on and you were very careful not to pinch the tube as you put it back on. But good fortune couldn’t be that good to you. The children were getting mighty restless by now and they got to wrestling around in the car and shook it off the jack. That almost did it, but by being Sunday, you bit your teeth and held your cool. 

In your mind you could see those magazine ads of tires that were guaranteed to go 6,000 miles and also ads of puncture proof tubes. You knew that modern science would never be able to produce a tire that would go 6,000 miles so you dismissed it from your mind. 

You have the and kids to get completely away from the car as you get it jacked up again, the tire put on and pumped up. It is now late for church, but with all your sweat and dirt you go on to the services as you need to get back a little of what you lost. 

Them was the good ole days---or were they?

Shared by Roy Ables

ACROSS THE FENCE