The Chevy Emergency Repair Story

1962

A True Story

Written 2013* 1,689 Words*

By Howard Yasgar

This story is all about determination, and what things are possible to do when you are under extreme pressure.

In 1962, I was 24 years old and living in Westville Connecticut.

I was in the Army Reserves, and I had just completed my eight weeks of basic training at Fort Dix New Jersey.

My new orders said that I was to return to Fort Dix serving an additional six months

active duty in the motor pool there.

I was told that I could return to Fort Dix, driving my own car, but I would have to park it in an off-base parking lot.

After doing a little checking around, before I had left Fort Dix. I found a service station in Wrightstown with a large parking area used by military personnel.

My car at the time was a 1959 Chevrolet convertible that I had modified extensively.

It was what was called a muscle car, and because of the way it looked and sounded

cars would always pull up next to me wanting to race, and if there were no police around, I usually would accommodate them.

My hot 1959 Chevy had a highly modified 348 cubic inch engine with three carburetors, and it also had a corvette transmission, as well as a positraction differential (usually referred to as nonslip rear end).

Once I received my official Army orders to return to Fort Dix, I planned on driving my car to New Jersey and then parking it at the Wrightstown auto storage yard.

I knew it was only a three-hour drive from my home in Westville, to get to Fort Dix in New Jersey, but since I didn’t want to be late for my new job, I decided to leave my home the evening before I was due to arrive at Fort Dix.

I planned to eat and sleep at a New Jersey motel that first night and I would be in Wrightstown in the morning, to arrange paying for my parking.

The first part of my trip heading south to New Jersey went well enough, that was until

I hit the New Jersey Turnpike.

I was cruising along at the speed limit when suddenly there was a hot looking 1956 Chevrolet running alongside me and he revved up his engine.

He then suddenly shifted into second gear and floored it, so I knew this guy wanted to race.

I down shifted my car all the way to second gear and I floored it, then I quickly shifted into third gear, and I started pulling away from that 1956 Chevy.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and my car shuddered and it stopped accelerating.

I coasted into the grassy area in the center of the Jersey turnpike. The 1956

Chevy I was racing just kept on going.

I just sat there for a while until my nerves settled down, and I looked at my watch, it was exactly 11 PM and it was dark, and there were only the lights from the headlights of passing cars going by on the turnpike.

From the noise that I had heard, coming from the rear of my car, I knew the gears in my differential had blown up, and I had to think of what I was going to do.

I knew that if I tried walking to a service plaza to get a tow, I would surely get ripped off for a lot of money that I didn’t have.

I was way too far from New Haven to call any friends to help me, and if I did, what could they do to help me, also, I was worried that if I left my car, to walk to a service plaza, and I was gone any length of time, there was always the possibility someone would stop and strip parts off my car.

Then I got to worry about what would happen if I arrived late for duty at Fort Dix.

I thought about calling a Chevrolet agency but my car was way out of any warranty.

Then I got to think about changing the cars differential, it was not that difficult a thing to do, especially if you had the right tools.

I thought I could do the job in about three hours maximum.

So, then I thought I should look in my car’s trunk, I might have brought some tools with me.

I got out of the car and opened the trunk and there was only a ball peen hammer and a medium size Craftsman flat bladed screwdriver.

I gave it a lot of thought, and since there were no other tools, my options were all bad.

Then I got to thinking, and I took out the cars jack, and the spare tire, and the lug wrench, and I also had the hammer and the Craftsman screwdriver.

I wedged the cars spare tire in front of the left front tire, so the car wouldn’t roll forward, and I jacked up the rear.

Then I loosened the two rear tires, using the car’s tire iron.

I used the car’s hub caps to hold all the nuts.

I removed the two rear tires, pushing them under the car, and under the left and right side of the rear axle housing.

I removed the two rear brake drums, and the cars brake shoes.

I was using the screwdriver like it was a chisel, so I gently tapped each nut on the axle retainers until I was able to turn them with my fingers.

There was just enough light to see what I was doing from the headlights of the passing cars on the turnpike.

Once the axle retainers were loose, I pulled each axle out about six inches on each side.

I then slid under the car on the moist grass and using the screwdriver and hammer I bent away the locking tabs on the nuts holding the universal joint to the differential.

Once the universal joint was off, I was able to push the drive shaft out of the way, then I proceeded to loosen the nuts all around the differential carrier.

Again, I did all this using my screwdriver like a chisel.

Then by prying with the screwdriver the differential assembly slid out of the axle housing, falling onto the ground.

The black lubricating oil poured out all over the ground making a mess.

The thick oil got all over my hands, and all over my pants and my shirt, and then the smell of the oil started making me feel sick.

I looked at my watch and it was already four in the morning.

Not even one State police trooper had stopped to see what I was doing.

I slid into the cars driver’s seat and tried to get some sleep, but the smell of the oil was so overpowering, it was almost impossible to breathe.

At first light, a pickup truck pulled up right behind me.

I didn’t know if he was going to assist me or if he was thinking he could steal something from my car.

But he was sure surprised to see me when I got out of the front seat.

I asked him if there was a junk yard in the area, where I could buy a used differential, and he said, “Yes”, there was a big junk yard about two exits back.

So, I asked him “If he could take me there. He said, “Yes,” but he said he was on his way to work, and we had to hurry up.

At the junk yard, they were just opening for business when we arrived.

The parts manager took one look at me, I was all covered in black oil. He must have thought I was some kind of nut.

I asked him if he had a used differential, for a 1955 to 1962 Chevrolet, I knew they would all fit in my car.

Yes, he said, they had one from a 1955 Chevrolet and the price was $35.00.

I said that I would take it and I gave him the money.

Then I told him what had happened to me, and I asked him if by some chance he had a new gasket, so I could install his used part.

I also asked if I could buy some proper tools.

The junk yard guy then asked me why I needed the tools. I told him I needed them to install the differential.

He said, “How in the hell did you get the differential out if you don’t have any tools, so I told him how I did it.

By now several more employees had shown up and they were looking at my old broken differential which I had carried in.

I told them all that I had removed the differential using only a hammer and screwdriver.

They asked, “Are you bullshitting us?”

Now everyone in the junk yard was looking and laughing at me, but they could clearly see I was covered in black grease, I must have done what I said.

“Where in the hell are you doing this job”, the junk yard guy asked?

Up in the center of the turnpike” I replied.

The guy with the pickup truck that brought me was starting to get antsy, and said he needed to go to work.

I could see the junk yard guy didn’t believe I had taken the car apart with only a screwdriver and hammer.

He said to one of the other guys, “Do any of you guys believe this shit.

Then he then said to the guy with the pickup, “You can take off, I’ll bring him back to his car, I want to see what he’s doing”.

I thanked the guy with the pickup for the ride and he left.

I then told the junkyard manager that I was afraid the pickup truck guy might try and steal something from my car.

He quickly went to the metal shelving behind him and grabbed several wrenches a new gasket and a big can of 90-weigh oil.

I asked him how much all the stuff was going to cost, as I only had sixty-five dollars left.

He said, “Don’t worry about it,” and we got into his pickup truck and drove back up to the turnpike.

My car was still there and no one had touched anything.

The Junkyard guy bent over and looked under my car. “God Damn” he said, you really did it.

He had a newspaper in his truck cab and I used a few pages to wipe out the broken pieces of gear that were inside of the axle housing, and I laid the rest of the paper on the puddle of grease that was on the ground.

I saved a few pages of paper to fold into a funnel. I put on the new differential gasket on the axle housing, and with help from the junk yard guy we lifted and slid the heavy new differential in place.

With the wrenches the junk yard guy had brought, it was now easy to tighten all the nuts on the differential and the universal joint, so in less than an hour I had it all together.

I rolled up some more newspapers like a funnel and poured the 90-weight oil into the differential.

The junk yard guy said, “I got to get back to the yard”. He gave me his business card, I thanked him for the tools and oil, and he took off.

I put the axles back in and then the brakes and the brake drums and then the tires. I Then lowered the car and put the spare back in the trunk.

When I finally got to the car storage lot at Wrightstown, I went into their bathroom, and washed up using all their liquid soap and I changed into my military uniform.

I left the oily shirt and pants in the trash in the bathroom.

The gas station called a Fort Dix Taxicab for me, and I was right on time for work,

It was just like nothing had ever happened.