My Brother, William Preston Williams lll, last Hurrah with the Porsche 911E, at Casa Guillermo, in 1976. Like father, like son!
Preston Williams in the middle, with his best friends, on his 16th Birthday.
Born to be CAR GUYS: Concluded:.
Story by Preston Williams.
Tom was pretty much my best friend, and I trusted his good sense, (well as much as a teenager could judge or have.) He loved cars and was a good, safe driver, so when he said, "hey Press, I'd love to drive that little Porsche, and take it to the limit, but this time during the day, no hair pin turns," I thought, why not.
It was a Saturday and again Dad was out of town, so I agreed, only if I could drive his, quick little 289. I knew it would never beat the 911E, but it was a fun car, so after he agreed we went back to the Tram road - but this time all the way to the base station, because he wanted to drive the windy road all the way down to Palm Canyon.
The Porsche was so fast, you could zip through the turns and then fly down the straight ways, and because it had great breaking ability, and the quick speedomatic transmission - shifting was awesome, just a fun car.
Tom drove to the base station (quickly!!) and than headed back down, and again since it was summer in the desert, the Tram was pretty much dead.
Tom began the trip down the mountain, taking the turns at about 60, shifting through the turns and hitting about 75 through the straight ways, than, down shifting through the turns. The car handled great! However, about half way down the mountain, the road turns into big long S turn, and that's where he got up to 3rd gear, cursing about 80 through the long S turns.
The last three miles straighten out, so he tapped the brake and down shifted into 2nd, than punched it! unfortunately, there was a little dirt on the road, and caught a little fishtail. Tom quickly shifted into 3rd and luckily, it straightened out and we were gone!
120, 130 +, just coming out of that fishtail was exhilarating, and the speed just laid you back in the seat as he hit 4th at 140, 150 +. At 5th gear the guage was pegged and just flying, until the last mile, when the motor stalled, but we still had momentum, so kept going.
Tom pumped the brakes and we hit the curve onto Palm Canyon about 70 miles an hour, and she just hugged the turn, as we cruised into the North end gas station about a 1⁄4 mile down the road.
I said to Tom, "Dud what’s up? Every time you drive this car it dies?"
This time we had gas and the battery was charged, but we had two problems, the Porsche wouldn't start, and it was stuck in gear.
“What the F—k are we going to do?" I said, "even if we get it home, my Dad will know that it's broken."
So not able to get it home , I had no choice but to call my Dads friend Carl, who owns a gas station or two, and would know what to do, Talking about biting the bullet!!
"Hello, Carl?, uh, this is Preston, you know Bill's son."
"Ya, ya , sure," he said, " Hey Press what’s up?"
"Carl, I have a problem," I said, "and Dad's out of town, and I could use some help?"
"Okay, what type of help," he said,
"uh, car help," I said,
"Did you run out of gas?"
"Well no," I said, "I, um, took the Porsche out and it won’t start?
"I’m sorry Press," he said in dismay, "you what? you took your Dad's car for a ride," he laughed, "okay bud, where are you? I'll come down and see what I can do.
"OK thank you Carl," I said, finally exhaling.
So I gave him the directions, and hung up.
Tom freaks out saying. "Man you can not, tell your old man I was driving!!! - Not only will he be pissed at me, he'll call my Dad - and he'll kick my ass, and take my car for a month or more. This is so not cool!
"Ya think?" I said," I'm gonna get my ass kicked if
my Dad knows you were driving. I may as well kiss my ass goodbye, well, it was fun while it lasted."
We looked over the car to see if we could figure it out? Tom says it could be vapor locked, being so hot outside, and maybe that locks up the transmission somehow,
"Well that would be cool," I said, "if it all fixes itself."
"Listen Tom," I said, "I know Carl’s a cool guy, maybe he won't tell my Dad about this."
"When does your Dad get home," Tom said.
"Who knows, he said Monday?
"That's good," Tom said, "then we have two days, to figure this out."
"yeah, well, these days, he always tells me later, and comes home sooner, hoping to catch me in the act?" I said.
"Great!! Were F**k*d."
About that time, a big white pickup truck pulls up. It's Carl, "Hey boys, out for a joy ride?,"
"Yeah, you know just cruising." I said, laying low.
"This car?" Carl says, "Sure, Cruising," he laughs, as he inspects the car. "Press, all I can do is have it flatbeded back to the house, and Press you know; I will have to tell your Dad, you boy's will have to face the music for this one!"
"Yes I know.
So Carl had the car brought back to the house, and he said, "Press I would recommend that you tell your Dad first, okay kid."
"Yup, thanks Carl."
"Alright Press. I will wait a week."
I had a lump in my throat the size of a grapefruit, when telling my Father what happened. He was so pissed, especially when the repair would cost $2,500.00, he took my car away for a month, and from that point forward when he went out of town, he'd either lock me out of the house and make me stay with friend, or he'd have the neighbors check in on me all of the time. He also took the car keys with him, when he'd go - and that summer, he went to Europe for a month, and locked me out of the house.
However, the good news was, Dad, made arrangements for me to stay at my Girlfriend's house, but for a teenager that was more of a blessing then punishment!
I guess the good old times were over and it was time for me to grow up. At least for today.
The Last Hurrah!!
