Car Keys, Part 1

It was the first and only time I can recall intentionally disobeying my parents. It was May of 1970 and I had just graduated from high school. Mom was so gentle and kind that I hated to disappoint her, but Dad was such an authoritarian that it seemed right to be willfully disobedient at least once before heading off to college. And that’s how it came to pass that I stayed out past curfew on the night before the high school state track meet.

When I got back to the house that night I just expected to slip in the back door like I always did and head up to bed. Mom and Dad would never know because the door was never locked and they never stayed up for me anyhow. There was no reason to do so because I never stayed out late, I never disobeyed, and was absolutely trustworthy. Well, except for this one night. When I got home the door was locked.

At first I thought that Mom and Dad had just forgotten I was out and did not intentionally lock the door. When I checked for the spare key in the garage and it was missing, I knew it was locked on purpose and they were upset. I thought about sleeping in the car, but decided that that was just delaying the inevitable. I rang the doorbell and awaited my fate.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually Mom and Dad both showed up at the back door in their bathrobes. Dad took forever unlocking the door and it seemed calculated to let me stew a little longer and speculate on my impending doom. As soon as the door opened Dad started in on me. I don’t remember specifically what he said, but no doubt it included my being irresponsible and risking a poor performance at the track meet the next afternoon. I was accustomed to my dad’s tirades, but this one was particularly stinging because he might have been right this time. Even more painful however was my mom’s look of disappointment.

The bottom line of it all was I was grounded until further notice and they took away my keys to the car. This was a first for me or for anyone in my family.

In my own defense it wasn’t just an evening of willful disobedience. I was pretty anxious about the state meet and knew I wouldn’t sleep well, if at all. I’d been training for this one track meet for an entire year. The previous year I’d finished fourth in the Mile at state in a 4:25. One of the guys in front of me was a graduating senior and the other three of us were juniors, so if I was going to move up a place, or just maintain my place in the pecking order, it was up to me to do the workouts. The problem was this; I was positive the two guys in front of me knew this too. They didn’t get in front of me by sitting on the couch. No doubt the guys behind me had placed a bull’s-eye on my back too.

I’d run throughout the previous summer in preparation, even after a full workday or graveyard shift at the factory. I’d run two-a-day workouts frequently during the fall cross country season. I gave up my one true love, wrestling, in the winter when I separated my shoulder during a JV match, and it became clear I wasn’t going to make the varsity. So I focused on running through the ice and snow of winter with my separated shoulder, again, often twice a day. Every reasonable and unreasonable sacrifice had been made over the period of a year in anticipation of this one race. In fact, my girlfriend had dumped me just prior to the track season both years. Gee, I wonder what caused that.

So getting back to losing the car keys and getting grounded, I went up to bed and slept like a baby. Whodathunkit?

I had to get up early the next morning and catch a ride with an assistant coach who was driving me and a couple other guys over to Ames, Iowa, the site of the track meet. I was still a bit sleepy from my “late” night, so slept during the two hour drive over to Ames. By the time we got there I was well rested and felt ready to run.



I just reached the bottom of a page. You’ll have to wait for the rest of the story next week. I won’t actually get to the end of the car keys story for five weeks. I have to tell the story of the State Mile race first to put everything in perspective. Hang with me. It’s a good story.