We go and walk through it usually every weekend. Gives us some exercise and we get to see some unique things. Sometimes we go both Saturday and Sunday and sometimes we stop at some other smaller ones, too. Funny, we don’t seem to bring much home with us. Guess we just like to see all the unique things. You know, at my age, it is time to get rid of lot of my junk instead of adding to it.
Anyway, as we were walking back some outside isles, I spotted an old 1961 two door hard-top Buick parked off to the side. I haven’t seen one of those in years. My then to be father-in-law, bought a brand new 1961 Buick 4-door sedan and one of his pilot friends that lived close by, bought a 1961 Buick convertible. I was really impressed with those cars.
Here is a picture of the one I saw yesterday:
This reminded me of an ironic happening involving the fellow who had the ’61 Buick convertible. He and some of his buddies used to put the top down and take that car and drive the back country roads looking for feral cats to shoot at. This fellow was killed when he crashed his plane. The ironic part was the picture of the plane crash on the front page of the paper. A cat was proudly walking by in the foreground of the picture in front of the crash. I have never witnessed any better irony. The really sad part was that his wife was almost full term with their first child.