(NOTE: Please read the previous article titled Soncy Road before you read this)
Last week, I told the story of cars mysteriously parked (only after dark, mind you) on Soncy Road in Amarillo, Texas. A bunch of little boys (me among them) formed an unsuccessful group to find out why. Here’s the rest of that tawdry tale:
The fact of the matter is I did find out what they did on Soncy Road but not until I was sixteen and had my own car. The girlfriend that I had at that time suggested we go there after a movie we had seen so we could talk. You know, we did too. Had a nice long visit the end of which found our windows steamed up so that we could not see out. We talked about school that day and our plans for the future. She wanted to be a housewife (remember, this was about 1970 or so) and I wanted to be a truck mechanic. I was worried about getting drafted and winding up in Viet Nam (both ended before I came of age) and she was worried about finding a man. I reminded her I thought it was not an issue for her anymore and, for some unfathomable reason, she rolled her eyes and chuckled.
Well, the evening went on and we were so immersed in our “talk” that we never did see the cop car pull up behind us. They knocked on our door rather harshly and, when I answered, they had us out of the car much quicker than I thought possible. They had us sit in the back seat of their car while they quizzed us as to our activities. We steadfastly insisted that we had come here to talk about “different things.” They did not take to our story very well and decided they would need to call both of our parents. Well, they kept us in their car for what seemed an eternity. They kept asking us what we were “really doing” way out here by ourselves, after dark, with the windows all steamed up. I stood by my story adding that the evening was somewhat cool and I did not want my girlfriend to catch cold. That, surprisingly enough, did not work either. They let us go with the warning not to be out here again and, yes, they would be calling both of our parents that next day. We left that evening fully convinced that our lives were over. The dreaded call from the police never came and, eventually, we forgot about it. I assume she found a suitable man and while I did join the Army, I did not get sent to Viet Nam.
I stuck with my story the entire time I was in the car with Amarillo’s finest. I stuck with that story then and that’s all you’re going to get today.