Me cousin George and me Grandpa Joe

Me cousin George down in North Carolina was a crackin' good mechanic. Me Grandpa Joe up here in Detroit was a good mechanic too. Yet he also tinkered. The two ideas didn't always mesh, and that once led me to hide a truth from Joe.

My wife and I had borrowed Joe's Chevy Nova for a trip to NC to show our six month old son to me Grandpaw Hutchins. Charlie is the only one of our kids who actually met Grandpaw; we have a neat picture of him sitting next to Grandpaw on the couch of the old gentleman's living room. Anyway, a couple hours before we get to Carolina the car starts running rough. It got us there but I knew it might not get us back.

That's where me cousin George comes in. He was indeed an outstanding mechanic and checked it out for me.  He deduced, "The carburetor needs to be rebuilt. I can do for you for the cost of a rebuild kit." At that time such a kit was $13.

I hated to trouble him so I offered simply to buy a rebuilt carb for him to put on. You know, to save him time and effort. "That'll cost a lot more than you think," my cousin said, quite knowingly. But off we went to Sandy Mush Auto Parts. Sandy Mush North Carolina is where a lot my southern kin live.

We got there and George asks what a rebuilt carburetor for a 76 Nova cost. "$91," the counterman answered. I can still see George's head swivel towards me with a look of 'so what do want to do?' even though the look itself told me what he believed we should do. 

Of course I bought the rebuild kit and we went back to his garage to rebuild the old carburetor. 

I couldn't do much, the parts being far too small for more than one guy to work with, although I did help by cleaning out the three larger metals parts which made up the body of the carb. George had some kind of red-purple liquid that you could slosh a part around in and clean it up right fine; to this day I'd love to know what it was. In a little bit he had the carb rebuilt and installed and that old Nova simply purred. I've always been thankful to George for helping out a younger cousin who's money was tight.

Yet that's where my hiding the truth from Joe comes in. I knew, just knew, he'd mess about with that carburetor and it wouldn't be right when he was done. All I told him when I returned the keys and he asked how the car did was, "Just fine, Grandpa Joe, thanks again for letting me borrow it." I don't believe I even told me Pops that his nephew George had fixed it.

I still feel bad about that. But George did me a solid and I will never forget it.