Three out of three ain't bad

I honestly don't know why it's illegal to tow a disabled vehicle with a tow rope. Yes, yes, yes, people will argue safety. But I think that that argument, while not entirely unfair, is nonetheless overblown. Hell, I towed cars for years with tow ropes and nothing bad ever happened. 

There's no doubt in my mind that it's a way for towing companies, a special interest, to get more money. Don't think, towers, that we haven't noticed all your 'contributions' to police societies proudly displayed on your office walls. Mandatory, legally obliged towing is a racket, and to hell with what anyone says. It's one of the micro reasons I'm politically conservative: another example of government and a special interest wrapping up in a tidy package with a pretty bow a good deal for each other which drives up the cost of a service and adds dough to government coffers (for these towers need to be licensed, wink wink). Talk about scratching each other's backs.

Rant over. Now I will talk about what I actually wanted to talk about.

If you haven't figured it out by now, we Cosgriffs towed a lot of cars and trucks in our time. We've towed them long distances, in some cases a couple hundred miles. If a vehicle broke down wherever, someone got a call and went on their way with a tow rope to fetch the marooned driver.

Once me Pops broke down in Kenton, Ohio, about an hour from Electric Eel as he was returning with a load of drain cleaning equipment. It's also about two hours from Detroit. He called my brother Phil, who dutifully went down to rescue him. But then Phil's car broke down, so I got a call.

And I did exactly what a good son should do. I went down into Ohio with my car and a tow rope and rescued them both.

So here we were with three vehicles, two being towed and one leading, one with a large round cable rack attached to its roof (I think it was Phil's Chevy Malibu), being towed around 125 miles up Interstate 75 into Detroit. We kept our blinkers on and never went faster than 35, and made it home safely.

Even I will admit though, it must have been a sight. 

Uncle John kills Grandpa Joe

Perhaps it's just one of me Uncle John's stories expanded beyond the normal apocalyptic standards of his tale telling. Perhaps it really happened as I will say. Perhaps it's full disclosure that I recognize that I do understand that safety is an issue with towing. Perhaps all of that. But I do know that towing with a tow rope can be hazardous.

The set of curves on Interstate 75 just south of Nine Mile Road in Ferndale, Michigan, is famous to Michiganders. After moving along at the breezy pace of 70 or even 55 miles per hour one suddenly has to slow down to negotiate two sharp turns, left and then right, right before you get to Detroit proper. It was at this juncture that Uncle John thought he had killed Grandpa Joe.

Zeke had broken down somewhere above this point driving one of the Joe Cosgriff Welding Machine Rentals flatbed trucks, while on his way home after a delivery. It was his bad luck that Grandpa Joe was the one to rescue him with a tow rope. Joe went out with a 1969 Chevy car to tow home a truck with a 14 foot bed. You know, standard procedure for us Cosgriffs, a lighter vehicle towing a heavier.

Well, Joe hooked up the truck to his car and off they went. All was fine until they reached the Nine Mile curve. Then, as Zeke saw it, Joe began trying to light a cigarette. In doing so, Joe couldn't find the lighter. So he took his eyes off the road, bent down to seek the lighter, an unignited johnny smoke dangling from his lips, and in so doing let the slack out of the tow rope.

You don't do that. You must keep the tow rope taut. All of us Detroit Cosgriffs, well experienced in the art of vehicle towing, know that. We also know the trailing vehicle has a much more difficult chore when it comes to stopping. The following vehicle requires the lead be alert to that fact.

But this was Joe. Anyone working with that man, Lord love him, needed to take on extra precaution for themselves.

So Joe lets the rope go slack for the sake of his Carlton. And Uncle John can't stop. Joe's Chevy drifts towards the shoulder. Zeke's truck drifts helplessly towards it as well, Uncle John pumping the brakes frantically, pointlessly. Joe's old car jumps slightly into the air on hitting the curb of the shoulder. Zeke's truck, heavier and therefore with greater kinetic energy, jumps the same curb only much higher. The expectant force drives the stake truck upwards. It lands squarely atop the old Chevy. Time stops.

I've killed him, me Uncle John thinks. I've killed my old man.

Years of seconds pass, Zeke considering the weight of what had happened. Eventually he raises up his head from the steering wheel where it rested. He must face the music. He must check on Joe.

Me Grandpa Joe meanwhile had already left his car, and was pacing in front of the Chevy smoking one cigarette after another, his nerves undoubtedly themselves frayed. Me Uncle John said that it was cartoonish. Joe was lighting one smoke after another and dragging it all in, the little red flame running up the entire length of each cigarette one draw at a time. Joe was okay. Zeke, well, it was a while longer returning to sanity.

Towing three cars at once

I honestly don't know why it's illegal to tow a disabled vehicle with a tow rope. Yes, yes, yes, people will argue safety. But I think that that argument's overblown. I believe it's a way for towing companies, a special interest, to get more money. And don't think, towers, that I haven't noticed all your 'contributions' to police societies. Mandatory, legally obliged towing is a racket, and to hell with what anyone says. It's one of the micro reasons I'm politically conservative: another example of government and a special interest wrapping up in a tidy package with a pretty bow a good deal for themselves. Talk about scratching each other's backs.

Rant over. Now I will talk about what I actually wanted to talk about.

If you haven't figured it out by now, we Cosgriffs towed a lot of cars and trucks in our time. We've towed them long distances, in some cases a couple hundred miles. If a vehicle broke down wherever, someone got a call and went on their way with a tow rope to fetch the marooned driver.

Once me Pops broke down in Kenton, Ohio, about an hour from Electric Eel as he was returning with a load of drain cleaning equipment. He called my brother Phil, who dutifully went down to rescue him. But then Phil's car broke down, so I got a call.

And I did exactly what a good son should do. I went down into Ohio with my car and a tow rope and rescued them both.

So here we were with three vehicles, one with a large round cable rack attached to its roof (I think it was Phil's Chevy Malibu), being towed around 125 miles up Interstate 75 into Detroit. We kept our blinkers on and never went faster than 35, and made it home safely.

Even I will admit it must have been a sight.