DRIVELINE APRIL 2013 MEMPHIS STREET ROD CLUB

Don Chute

The Memphis Street Rod Club met on Monday, 4-1-2013 at NSA for the monthly meeting with over 50 members and guests in attendance. Thanks to the April hosts, Bill Holt, Bob Beeson, Jim Traylor, Dave Freeman and Don Chute for arranging for the good meal of barbequed pulled pork, pork ribs and chicken with baked beans and potato salad and topped off with banana pudding for dessert and iced tea to drink. The food was catered by the BAR-B-QUE PIT in Olive Branch, MS. President Mike Lyon opened the meeting welcoming all in attendance and thanking the men responsible for arranging for and setting up the meeting’s meal. The first order of business was the club’s website and some changes that have been made to help everyone to keep up with all the activities of the club by checking the club’s website regularly so you’ll know what’s going on in a more timely manner. The newsletter keeps up with most going on events but you only get a newsletter once a month and an event may have come and gone before you see a newsletter. If you check the website, you will be up to date instantly. The newsletter will still be available to those who don’t do computers if you let the editor know it. Call Don at the number on the back page of your newsletter. The Prez. called on VP Ed Bloodworth to give an up to date accounting of upcoming cruises, car shows etc., where they are and when. One popular show with our club is the “Bunny Run” in Jackson, TN. April 20-22 at Fairgrounds Park. (www.bunnyrun.info) Ed said cruisin’ is happening in Bartlett and Olive Branch. I couldn’t hear the other places that were mentioned. I heard someone mention a car show in Germantown (4-13-13) sponsored by the Kiwanis Club. The Prez. wrestled control of the meeting from Eddie announcing that rooms for the Delta River Cruisin’ show are available for reservation now if you call Sam’s Town at Tunica. Mike also mentioned that any kind of a motorized cart has to be registered and insured with proof before allowed at the show. Mike called on master of ticket drawing, George Poteet to draw 2 winning numbers for the big cash “glad I came prize.” Mike Jumper went home with $107 and Butch Campbell with $108. Rolling in it!! Next month’s meeting will be held at the same place with David Meek, Larry Lewis, Richard Bouler, Hugo Whitten, Steve Fedor and Bill Mullis hosting. 
GIRL WITH THE APPLE (true story) The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women and children of Piotrkow’s Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square. Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had run rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated. “Whatever you do,4/9/2013” Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me, “don’t tell them your age. Say you’re sixteen.” I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker. An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. He looked me up and down, and then asked my age. “Sixteen,” I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood. My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children, sick and elderly people. I whispered to Isidore, “Why?” He didn’t answer. I ran to Mama’s side and said I wanted to stay with her. “No,” she said sternly. “Get away. Don’t be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.” She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood: She was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once, she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her. My brothers and I were transported to Germany in a cattle car. We arrived at Buchenwald concentration camp one night later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued uniforms and identification numbers. “Don’t call me Herman anymore.” I said to my brothers. “ Call me 94983.” I was put to work in the camp’s crematorium, loading the dead into a hand cranked elevator. I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I become a number. Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald’s sub-camps near Berlin… One morning I thought I heard my mother’s voice. “Son,” she said softly but clearly, I am going to send you an angel.” Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream. But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work. And hunger. And fear. A couple days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a little girl with light, almost luminous curls. She was half hidden behind a birch tree. I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German. “Do you have something to eat?” She didn’t understand. I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life. She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat-a hunk of bread or, better yet an apple. We didn’t dare linger or speak. To be caught would mean death for both of us. I didn’t know anything about her, just a kind farm girl, except she understood Polish. What was her name? Why was she risking her life for me? Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as bread and apples. Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia…”Don’t return,” I told the girl that day. “We’re leaving.” I turned towards the barracks and didn’t look back, didn’t even say good by to the little girl whose name I’d never learned, the girl with the apples. We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied Forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed. On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00A.M. In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death tried to claim me but somehow I’d survived. Now it was over. I thought of my parents. At least, I thought we will be reunited. But at 8:00 A.M. there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers. Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. Everyone was running, so I did too. Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I’m not sure how. But I knew the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival. In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person’s goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none. My mother had promised to send me an angel, and an angel had come. Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a Jewish Charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in Electronics. Then I came to America, where my brother Sam had already moved.. I served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War and returned to New York after two years. By August 1957 I’d opened my own electronics repair shop. I was starting to settle in. One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me. “I’ve got a date. She’s got a Polish friend. Let’s double date.” A blind date? Nah, that wasn’t for me. But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma. I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn’t so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond shaped eyes that sparkled with life. The four of us drove out to Coney Island. Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too! We were both doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn’t remember having a better time. We piled back into Sid’s car, Roma and I in the backseat. As European Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, “Where were you,” she asked softly, “during the war?” “The camps,” I said. The terrible memories still vivid, the irreparable loss…I had tried to forget. But you can never forget. She nodded. “My family was hiding on a farm in Germany, not far from Berlin,” she told me. “My father knew a priest, and he got us Aryan papers.” I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. And yet here we were both survivors, in a new world. “There was a camp next to the farm.” Roma continued. “I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples everyday.”What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy. “What did he look like? I asked. He was tall and skinny and hungry. I must have seen him everyday for six months.” My heart was racing. I couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be. “Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?” Roma looked at me in amazement. “Yes!” “That was me!” I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions. I couldn’t believe it! My angel. “I’m not letting you go.” I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn’t want to wait. “You’re crazy!” she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week. There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I already knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I have found her again, I could never let her go. That day she said yes. And I kept my word. After 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren, I have never let her go. Herman Rosenblat, Miami Beach, FL.
HUMOR •SAINT PETER is sitting at the Pearly Gates when two black guys and two Mexican guys arrive. He looked out through the Gates and said “Wait here, I will be right back.” St. Peter goes over to God’s chambers and tells him who is waiting for entrance. God says to Peter: “How many times do I have to tell you, you can’t be racist and judgmental here. This is heaven. All are loved. All are brothers. Go back and let them in!” St. Peter goes back to the Gates, looks around and lets out a heavy sigh. He returns to God’s chambers and says “Well, they’re gone.” “Who, the black guys or the Mexican guys, asked God?” “No, The Pearly Gates.” St. Peter said.•THE SENILITY PRAYER Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference. •JUST before the funeral services, the undertaker came up to the very elderly widow and asked “How old was your husband?” “98,” she replied: “Two years older than me” “So you’re 96,” the undertaker commented. She responded, “Hardly worth going home, is it?” •REPORTERS interviewing a 104-year-old woman:”And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?” the reporter asked. She simply replied, “No peer pressure.”•I feel like my body has gotten totally out of shape, so I got my doctor’s permission to join a fitness club and start exercising. I decided to take an aerobics class for seniors. I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, and perspired for an hour.. But, by the time I got my leotards on, the class was over. •My memory’s not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory’s not as sharp as it used to be.•Know how to prevent sagging? Just eat till the wrinkles fill out. •It’s scary when you start making the same noises as your coffee maker. •Always REMEMBER this: You don’t stop laughing because you grow old, You grow old because you stop laughing…


PARTS COUNTER

FOR SALE: 1956 Buick convertible-needs restored ($12,500) 1965 Chev. Impala convertible complete needs restored ($6,500) 1958 T-Bird complete, needs restored ($2,500) 1935 Ford 2 dr. sedan ($800) 1936 Ford 4 dr. sedan ($800) 1940 Ford pickup ($800) Call Tommy Starkey 662.429.8402
FOR SALE: 1 pr. 6 way power seats out of Jeep Cherokee fits coupe/pickup/4 dr/will not fold. ($125) Ford 4 speed trans., Rebuilt C6 Ford trans w/converter. 518 trans w/overdrive. Volarie front clip-disk, power steering w/pump. Call L.C.Jones 337.2715
FOR SALE: 93/94 Chevrolet V6 engine 2/computer, needs alternator and A/C compressor only. Used 40,000 miles. ($750) Call Robert Inman 867.3184

Food Supply for Meetings:
Affordable Catering (Lisa) 744.0123
Leonards’s Pit Barbeque 360.1963
The BAR-B-QUE PIT 662.890.3748
Central BBQ Catering 272.9377 or 767.4672

Driveline is published at 1108 Poplar View Lane N., Collierville, TN 38017-9323 We reserve the right to approve all components of this newsletter and welcome comments and suggestions for changes and additions. If you have something you would like to put into Driveline,
Call Don Chute @901.853.2000 or e-mail donchute@bellsouth.net