My View from 1958

Growing up in the 70’s was really awesome. No cell phones, no social media, no Xbox or Play Station. Games like Pong and Space Invaders were just introduced but you had to go to Pizza Hut or a local bar to play.  If you wanted have a good time you had to be a bit creative, recruit your buddies and let your mind wonder at bit. Malformed teenager brains, testosterone, and lack of judgment resulted in some great fun and good memories.

My good friend Scott came up with a brilliant idea.  “Let’s get an outhouse and drop it on Main Street for Halloween”.  That seemed like a fantastic idea. Who else had done that? We would be rock stars if we pulled this off and in my never-ending quest to be cool, I was all in.  We recruited willing volunteers and put together a strategy.

The plan was to drive my dad’s 1947 Chevy Pickup to Manti (see previous post about Manti) which was a local county park. Below is not the actual picture, but it gives you a sense of what the pickup looked like. It was half blue and half primer grey. I started buying cans of primer in hopes of finally getting it painted and all fixed up, but I ran out of money before the job was complete. I believe it was 3-speed with brakes that were poor at best. I remember I had to continually pump the brakes to get them to take hold.  Many times, when applying the breaks, my foot would drop all the way to the floorboard.

The plan was to drive to the Manti County Park, load a dilapidated outhouse in the back of the pickup and drop it off on Main Street right in front of City Hall.  Yup, not a lot of critical thinking applied but it was probably one of the more solid plans we ever had.  For your reference, a picture of an outhouse is below.

Off we went, I suspect around 7:00 at night. It was dark. Scott and I were in the cab of the pickup. There might have one other in the cab.  I remember it was crowded and hard to shift gears. The stick shift was in the middle between the driver and passenger. There must have been 2-3 teenagers riding in the back of the truck, rolling down the highway toward Manti. Top speed of that old Chevy was probably 30 to 40 miles an hour. Fast enough to kill all of us. Recall the brakes were sketchy at best. The headlights were dim. Not a good plan.

We arrived at the park in about 15 minutes.  Nobody was around and the nearest house was probably a half mile away. Luck, the gate was unlocked so I drove the pickup up the muddy lane and we started our search. We immediately spotted an outhouse, backed up to it and the team went to work. The outhouse was a three-hole barn-wood masterpiece with a crescent moon on the door and it barely fit into the bed of the truck! It was so big that it tipped backwards so its back was leaning on the top back edge of the cab. It seemed like it only took seconds to load it in the bed of the pickup. The outhouse was upright in the back, not lying flat. Perfect execution so far. Great Plan!

Everyone jumped back in the truck on off we went. I still remember being nervous as we drove back to town. The truck began to sway. The truck had a nasty shimmy because with the weight in back, and the front bald tires were intermittent on the pavement! Overloaded with people and cargo. Dim headlights. Bald tires. The brakes were not working. Hard to shift gears. The gas gauge did not work. I remember the guys riding in the back…whooping and yelling. This was going to be one hell of an event.  I was in a panic. And the worst part was the downhill on Hwy 59 into town at top speed with no brakes! (Right past my house BTW.) Hang on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

By the grace of God, we made it to town in one piece.  Next step, drop it at five corners (Main Street) right there in front of city hall and the Koral. The Koral was a local recreation center where all the teenagers hung out. I am sure part of our plan was thinking some of the local girls would be there to watch, thinking just how cool we were.

But not everything went to plan. The problem was that we made two passes right over the target before we dropped the load on the third pass (a sure way to get shot down). A good-sized crowd was in front of the Koral and the cops were right there too! People were actually laughing and cheering when we drove by the first couple of times! Critical thinking? We were 16-year-old boys!

We finally stopped on Main Street and immediately somebody or somebodies dropped the outhouse on the street. Upright. Yes! This was a small miracle!! Success!  Everyone loaded back up into the pickup, but then the red lights flashed. Busted. Scott told me he clearly remembers an unobstructed view of me madly trying to gun the motor and shift rapidly, but we were busted about the time I shifted into third and then I shut it down, and we surrendered. The old girl was wheezing and coughing through those first two gears. I think two of the players in the back jumped out with the load when we stopped at the drop site. They were never caught. When we were stopped, our friend Bob jumped out of the back and ran for his life! I can still see him running away with his tennis shoes flashing in front of the headlights. We only made it about 40 yards before being taken down!

So there we were. Everyone ran like hell. All the kids in the back vanished. It was just Scott and I left and we were in trouble, or so we thought.  The picture below shows the city policeman writing us a ticket in anticipation of contacting our parents. I am sure the policeman thought this was hilarious but he had a role to play. Officer Daily was cool. He took our names, told us to pick up the three-holer and take it back to where we found it. I am not sure who took this picture below but it was a classic.  The picture was in the Sentinel (town newspaper) the next day, so it was a newspaper photographer. Front page. There was an was an article that talked about several pranks, vandalism and things that happened the night before. The Officer told us to pick up the three-holer and take it back to where we found it so Scott and I complied. I think our parents thought it was funny because I never got any shit about it.  We were local heroes. This was a he success!

This was small town America in the 70’s. A bit of mischief, great ideas, no fear and little thinking, but man did we have fun!

Authors Note: I want to thank my good friend Scott for reviewing this and offering some great detail to the story. I think it is important to capture some of these types of stories from the past. I want to keep these memories alive. Even after all these years Scott and many of my high school friends remain in contact. I am truly bless to have life-long friends!