By Clif Knight

One of my earliest memories was owning a set of wheels that could get me where I wanted to go faster than I could on two bare feet.  

The hope of that dream being fulfilled when I was seven years old and my younger brother was five. We placed a red wagon at the top of our Christmas wish list even though our mother reminded us that our country was fighting a war and wheel toys were hard to find.  

We were surprised to find a wagon big enough for two under the Christmas Tree. It looked like what we had hoped for even though it was made entirely from wood. It’s important that you don’t let it get wet, we were told by our parents.  

We took their advice at heart for a few days. Then we forgot and left it outside on a night when it rained. The wheels split apart when they dried out and the wagon became as useless as a pile of trash. 

A few years later, we envisioned a wagon pulled by a goat. It got as far as some wheels an a few pieces of lumber. The dream ended when a neighbor’s goats found our dad’s new leather wagon lines and ate them, leaving only the metal fasteners. Any thought of having a goat on the farm ended immediately. 

As teenagers, my brother and me made enough money picking cotton for our neighbors to purchase a red and white J. C. Higgins bicycle from Sears & Roebuck. We took it everywhere we went for two or three years. It was our companion for trips to the store, fields, fishing, camping, sightseeing, recreation, etc.   

The highlight in my pursuit of faster and better transportation means came when I was a senior-to-be in high school. A first cousin and me pooled our first checks from the Alabama Army National Guard for the purchase of a 1931 Model A Ford coupe. Stored in a barn with a dead battery and flat tires, it soon became an expression of the fanciful behavior of two 17-year-old boys. It rolled to the tune of three different body colors with facsimiles of Archie and Jug Head painted on the doors. The car sold for $50 the day after graduation as its owners headed in different directions.