Boys will be boys
I grew up in Western Kansas in a small town:† Garden City. When I was about 10 years old (1933) my father bought a Graham–Page – a very fancy touring car with curtains on the windows and every gadget of the day. He was so proud of it and decided one Sunday that we would go for a jaunt – to Molly's, a very well–known eating place southwest of Garden City about 50 miles away. My older brother and my mother and I enjoyed the drive and the groaning board at Molly's – served family style. All went well until we were on our way back home when the car sputtered and died. Father got out and tried to find the problem. He couldn't. Finally another tourist came by and offered to find a mechanic to help. The mechanic soon arrived, looked at the problem and said that we would have to be towed home as there was some kind of trash in the fuel system. Finally the truth came out. My brother confessed that a friend of his and he had gathered cattails at the river and then dipped them into the fuel tank so they were coated with gasoline. They planned to use them for flares. Was my dad ever mad? And, the car never really worked very well, sad to say. Boys will be boys and kids do the darndest things!
                                    

—Helen D. Melton

 

   
Helen with James and his friend Charles (the two culprits!)