By By AMIEL E. HENRY
On Oct. 15 Joe Manzella and I, who will be 90 Dec. 9, left my house at 9530 E. Napier Ave., Benton Harbor, in a 1960 Chevrolet four-door Bel Air.
Yes, we made the round trip to California and have returned home again.
We totaled some 5,500 miles.
My tickets for "The Price is Right" were for Oct. 22 so that gave us a week's time to make it.
Surprisingly, we made it to Hollywood in four days.
We hadn't expected to make it in that time, but don't you know that straight six-cylinder engine rolled along at 70 to 80 mph.
We had to add a quart of oil every 1,000 miles.
The gas consumption was great.
We averaged 22 miles to the gallon and paid as high as $2.50 a gallon to the low of $1.32 a gallon.
Our first problem was the carburetor needle valve stuck open so gas was running freely all over the carburetor and the manifold.
I had an expert maintenance man (Joe Manzella) as a partner with me. So Joe had to disassemble the carburetor to stop the gas from flowing.
We lost the washer that kept the throttle rod on. We had some duct tape and used it on the carburetor.
The same thing happened the next day since the tape didn't do a job of holding the rod connection together.
For several days the exhaust kept getting louder.
Joe says we have to fix that right now, so off the road we pulled.
Joe says if we have one of those wire clothes hangers we can fix it, so he took the wire hanger and made a curled wire so that he could move that exhaust connection back on the bolt, then he pulled the loose end around the intake manifold and twisted it tight.
Now we had a great running exhaust.
Then on the third day out, we were in the mountains from Denver, Colo., on 70 to Highway 15 in Utah.
I was driving when we had some steep grades to climb. Some times going up grade I was doing all of 30 mph. Then back down at grade at 80 mph.
Then at a gas fill-up I took over, he didn't have any trouble keeping it at 55 up those grades come to find out I wasn't pushing the throttle to the floor because of a rug being in the wa.
Now there is a stretch between Denver and a hundred miles or more with no gas signs, no dwellings, nothing but mountains. Nearly dark we saw a gas sign. Knowing we were getting down on gas, naturally we pulled off the road.
Don't you know that same gas problem took place. It was dark, the flashlight didn't work and Joe was taking that carb apart by feel. Wasn't long, a truck pulled head-on to us and had a flashlight.
So we finally get the gas situation solved, but we had to use the starter enough that now it wouldn't turn over. So th follow who had been helping us out says we need jumper cables. By going to his home, which was in the opposite direction we had been going. He says 18 miles back here is that garage gas sign you have turned off for.
So we hopped in his car and headed to the garage. Jucky the wrecker had just comein so all we needed was jumper cables to start that car.
Joe says, "I know it will not start with cables." Snow when we got to the car that was all we needed. It started right off.
Now how much gas do you still figure -- at least three to four gallons. The guy in the wrecker says then, "I think you can make it to the next gas station. Seven miles up grade, then you can coast the other 25 miles."
So we did. I found a motel to stay in. We made it to Los Angeles in the four days. We stayed in a Chinese hotel that night. Four king-sized mattresses piled one on top of the other was our bed. The only night we were obliged to sleep in the same bad. Had to ask for covers, towels and toilet facilities; $24 that night, and everything written in Chinese. Next morning they served two eggs, toast and coffee. Very good.
The next day we roamed the streets by car looking for a motel. Finally we found one across the street from CBS. Took it for $100 a night.
Next door was a garage full of ome 3 old cars, some for repair, some for sale. Joe says, "I'll bet we can get nuts to fix the exhaust with and replace the parts we need for the carburetor.
Don't you know Chuck drove our car from the Farmer's Daughter next door to his garage, then replaced everything we needed. Wouldn't take a nickel, but says help the next fellow you see needs help.
At 3 of Oct. 22 in the morning there were some hundred people standing or lounging on the sidewalk, waiting for CBS to open the gate at 6. When they did, Joe was 38 and I was 39. These numbers were assigned as we came through the gate.
Notice was given that we needed to be back at 10. Numbers on the bleachers so according to your number, that is where you sat.
Then a man and a lady secretary came down the line, asking by name each one of us to say what we wanted. From those individual interviews the contestants were picked, which were unknown until called down.
Neither one of us was a contestant. But during the commercial break, I stood up with that Dowagiac paper and when Bob gave me his attention, I said I came back again because said if I ever did you wante dto see you rpicture on the front of my car, not on the back.
I said, "Can you see your picture on the front of that car?" He says, "Do you mean that little picture there?" He says, "I'll have you know I am a star and not that little. By the way, what was it you won your prizes the last time?"
I said the ball under the coconut. I won the trip to Sweden.
We left directly after the show, about 4, heading for Judy Simpson's sister in Anaheim, which is some 50 miles south of Highway 10.
We had made arrangements with Judy.
It is getting dark when we finally found the place by driving past it. So we had support and got a motel. In the morning we went to that residence, but somehow a mix-up occurred and we di not get to see her sister. Wednesday we headed back north 50 more miles to Highway 10, then headed east through San Bernardino when the fires were burning up on the hills.
We now were headed east on Highway 40 through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and Oklahoma. Joe's son was not too far south of the highway in Oklahoma. Arrived there on Saturday night, Oct. 18. Stayed all night with a family of three children, with only one old enough to walk.
Sunday morning we all headed to town 30 miles away and had breakfast. I rode with the mother, Roy with his dad. All at once we all stopped.
I thought she went back to discuss where we were going. After a while, I got out and went to Joe. No, not something wrong with the engine. Then Joe said all at once he heard a loud noise and stopped. There was the generator lying at the bottom of the engine.
What had happened was the bolt that holds the generator to the engine was gone. So Roy was sent home some 15 miles to get some bolts. Also, the bracket that makes the adjustment for the fan was broken in two.
Joe says don't worry, we will fix it and have it running soon as Roy gets back with some bolts. In the meantime, Joe was stripping bolts off the car to use, but none would fix it.
Soon as Roy got back, he and his dad repaired that situation. We now went back to Roy's house. I thnik I slept most of the time I was there. Joe didn't get much sleep as his grandkids kept him busy. We stayed Sunday night, then headed back north to get on Highway 40.
Somehwerhe, I'm not sure whether it was in New Mexico or Arizona, we saw two girls walking beside the road, so we stopped and aske dthem if they needed a ride. They crawled in the rear seat and away we went.
It wasn't many miles before they said, "We live about a mile from the turnoff of Highway 40." We drove to their house. We took pictures of them with each one of us. They presented us with some literature stating they were Seventh-day Adventists spreading the news. Didn't get their names, but when we eft we said we have done our good deed for today.
We made it into St. Louis late that night, but found a motel on Highway 55 East.
It began raining just east of St. Louis. The wiper on the passenger side blew off, so now Joe had to lok through a rainy windshield the rest of the way home.
The next day we were back home in Michigan. Some 5,500 miles that old '60 Chevy took up only by having a good friend and mechanic, Joe Manzella.