Jun 4, 2002
We visited DeKalb on Sunday to have lunch with Grandma and Grandpa Sisco. Grandpa drove us over to Rochelle to their regular Sunday lunch spot, a diner called the Butterfly. On the way, my 89-year-old grandfather proudly told us that, in the course of his 30-year career as a travelling pharmaceutical salesman and his retirement as a call-at-any-hour family taxi, he’d driven 2 million miles. All without receiving a ticket of any kind, ‘though I deserved one once in a while.’ He’s owned 28 cars—26 black Pontiacs, 2 Fords and a Chevy—and used to buy a new, black, car each year so the neighbors didn’t know he was driving the newest model.
Grandpa Sisco admitted to a youthful prank: In Berwyn, Illinois, he and his buddies would put a dummy on the tracks of the streetcar and then hide. When the streetcar stopped before the dummy and the conductor got out to inspect what he thought was a prone human being, the youths would pull the trolley’s antenna off the overhead wires. The conductor, back up in his seat, wouldn’t be too happy to suddenly have a non-electric, still streetcar, but Grandpa and his buddies had a good laugh. Grandma, hearing this story, scolded Grandpa. Perhaps I should have helped her pull out the sparkplugs of his car …
Anton Zuiker ☄
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