Having owned this car for so long, Jim was bound to have some stories to tell. His favorite is about a late-night gas station encounter with a highway patrol man in the early '70s.
Jim had stopped for gas, when the officer walked up, gave the car and its somewhat faded paint the once-over, and said, "Say, boy, how does that ol' Plymouth run?"
"Oh, it's got a 440 in it," Jim replied politely. "It still goes."
"Yeah? Well, let's go out on the highway and see how it matches up to this police car. We'll see if it goes."
Dutifully, Jim hopped in, rolled onto the four lane, and gave it the wood. Soon up in the triple digits, the duo rolled off a couple of miles with the Plymouth adding distance between them as the odometers rolled forward. Pulling off at the next intersection, Jim waited while the black-and-white pulled up. A somewhat distressed tribute to Barney Fife jumped out and quickly came over.
"Hey, what are you, crazy? I could get fired for letting you do that! "
Jim smiled and replied, "You said you wanted to see if it goes. You told me to show you. Well, you just saw it."
With that, he fired up the fat wedge, waved goodbye to the officer, and drove off into the night.