Ridin' in a '47 Jeep
In 1973, my wife Joan and I started a one year job working at the PAR Anti Ballistic Missile site near Cavalier, ND. Housing was scarce, but we managed to secure a trailer rental in Edinburg, ND, situated 30 miles from the site. At that time Willard was teaching and coaching in Rugby, ND which was only two hours away so we frequently visited each other on weekends during our year in Edinburg.
On one particularly cold weekend in January of '74, Willard arrived late in the afternoon. We made plans to drive to a favorite bar and restaurant in Mountain, ND, located midway between Edinburg and the PAR site. It was our "favorite" primarily because it was only 14 miles away compared to our other choices of 35 miles away, but it was good enough for us and after a couple drinks, who cared? We were still young. We smoked too much; drank too much; and had no worries about the future; the future was simply "whatever" as Willard would often say.
Because there was a blizzard warning by the Weather Bureau, I suggested we take my '47 Willys Jeep four-wheel drive pickup I had recently bought from a local farmer. Willard looked skeptically at the Jeep and shook his head, exclaiming, "You've got to be kidding!"
My feelings were hurt. I retorted, "Hey, this is the civilian version of what was used in WWII. Reliable, dependable, and of course it has four wheel drive so it can go anywhere. The only difference is that mine has a 6-volt battery while the military version has a 24-volt battery." With considerable reluctance and doubt, Willard agreed we could go in the Jeep. Then the three of us, squeezed into the front seat like canned sardines, embarked on our journey to Mountain at a top speed of 52 MPH helped by the strong wind behind us.
As we enjoyed drinks, dinner and conversation over the next couple of hours, the blizzard forecast proved accurate. The temperature plummeted to 20 below, and windblown snow covered the highway with much of it over a foot deep. Concerned, I ventured out to the Jeep to start it up and let it warm before our return trip, only to find the 6-volt battery completely dead.
An hour later, the tow truck arrived to jump-start the Jeep. We remained inside and let the engine run for half an hour to recharge the battery before setting off for home. The blizzard persisted. The ridiculously underpowered windshield wipers were no match for the blowing snow so Willard had to roll down his window and stick his head out into the bitterly cold wind every few seconds to provide guidance.
"Turn left! Turn right! You're going into the ditch! Stop! Stop now! We're going to die!" he would shout as we slowly drove in four wheel drive mode through the foot or more of snow on the unplowed highway. An hour later, around 2 AM, we somehow made it safely back to the trailer and I pulled into the driveway.
My feelings were hurt. I retorted, "Hey, this is the civilian version of what was used in WWII. Reliable, dependable, and of course it has four wheel drive so it can go anywhere. The only difference is that mine has a 6-volt battery while the military version has a 24-volt battery." With considerable reluctance and doubt, Willard agreed we could go in the Jeep. Then the three of us, squeezed into the front seat like canned sardines, embarked on our journey to Mountain at a top speed of 52 MPH helped by the strong wind behind us.
As we enjoyed drinks, dinner and conversation over the next couple of hours, the blizzard forecast proved accurate. The temperature plummeted to 20 below, and windblown snow covered the highway with much of it over a foot deep. Concerned, I ventured out to the Jeep to start it up and let it warm before our return trip, only to find the 6-volt battery completely dead.
An hour later, the tow truck arrived to jump-start the Jeep. We remained inside and let the engine run for half an hour to recharge the battery before setting off for home. The blizzard persisted. The ridiculously underpowered windshield wipers were no match for the blowing snow so Willard had to roll down his window and stick his head out into the bitterly cold wind every few seconds to provide guidance.
"Turn left! Turn right! You're going into the ditch! Stop! Stop now! We're going to die!" he would shout as we slowly drove in four wheel drive mode through the foot or more of snow on the unplowed highway. An hour later, around 2 AM, we somehow made it safely back to the trailer and I pulled into the driveway.
I turned the ignition key off, but then saw that I needed to move the truck over a bit to give room for Willard and Joan to exit. I turned the ignition back on. Nothing! The battery was again completely dead. Only then did we realize just how lucky we had been to make it home with a dead battery. Had the engine stopped at any time before we got home, we would have had to wait to be rescued until the roads were plowed. That might have been the next day or even the day after. It would not have turned out well for us.
Despite this near-death experience, Willard continued to visit us every few weeks until Joan and I took new jobs and left Edinburg in the Fall of '74. Never again did he agree to ride anywhere in the Jeep.
Footnote: The photo is the actual photo of my Jeep taken nine years later. I eventually sold it to my brother-in-law for $100 and he used it for hauling wood, fishing and hunting for a dozen years or more. It was still running when he bought a new four wheel drive truck at which time he gave it to a friend and I lost track of it.
Despite this near-death experience, Willard continued to visit us every few weeks until Joan and I took new jobs and left Edinburg in the Fall of '74. Never again did he agree to ride anywhere in the Jeep.
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Footnote: The photo is the actual photo of my Jeep taken nine years later. I eventually sold it to my brother-in-law for $100 and he used it for hauling wood, fishing and hunting for a dozen years or more. It was still running when he bought a new four wheel drive truck at which time he gave it to a friend and I lost track of it.
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