During the summer of 1953, I was working at Howard Motor, the Chevrolet and Buick dealer in my hometown, Augusta, Kansas. I was just a high school kid trying to make and save a buck so I could buy a car the following year.

1953 was a big year for Buick in that it was the company’s 50^th anniversary. To celebrate they had come up with design changes to enhance both the looks and performance of their cars. One large change was the creation of a two-door hardtop model which, I believe, was the first car known as the Riviera. One distinction was the paint job. The tops of the cars were painted an ivory color, and the bottoms were bright and sassy.

One of the first proud owners in our town was Junior Ewart. I don’t remember Junior’s real first name, but he always went by “Junior” anyhow. I can tell you that Junior was married to Connie Howard, the daughter of Ray Howard who owned the Buick dealership. Junior’s new Buick was the sharpest car in town. It was painted ivory on top and fire engine red on the bottom. Wow!

One day, I was washing a car on the wash rack which was near the back of the garage when I heard Service Manager, Kenneth Markley, call my name. I came out of the wash rack and saw Kenny beckoning me to the front of the shop.  Just inside the front door, I saw Junior Ewart’s car surrounded by a bunch of guys. Kenny was standing with Junior and Ray Howard, and, along with them, were the Body Shop Foreman and an insurance guy.  When I got there, I was told the shop had brought them together. Junior had gone to the golf course that morning and, upon arrival, had parked by a fence. While Junior was playing golf, a city employee was spray painting that fence with silver paint. Naturally, there was a breeze which resulted in Junior’s car having a serious case of the silver measles. There were hundreds-if not thousands- of little silver specks all over the car. Junior probably cried a little before coming to the shop for help. This group of guys was trying to decide the best way to take care of the problem. The insurance guy didn’t want to spend much for a new paint job. The Body Shop foreman warned that a repair never looks as good as a factory job. Ray was there as kind of a final authority, and Junior just wanted his pretty car back.

I had been detailing cars on our used car lot and was waxing for customers. I had become pretty good at it.  Kenny asked me if I could take care of the problem without hurting the paint job. I knew you couldn’t buff those silver spots away without thinning the paint job. I didn’t want to hurt the paint, so I decided to experiment with some of my skills on the windshield and chrome. Using my thumbnail, I found that I could cause the specks to pop off with very little effort. I told the group I could remove the silver spots and then wax the car by hand rather than buffing, and there would be no damage. After a discussion, Kenny told me that I had the job and wouldn’t be working on anything else until it was done.

I went to the drugstore and bought a pack of single-edged razor blades and then got to work. The razor blades were perfect. You could slip the blade under the edge of the spot, and it would pop right off without leaving a mark. This was the good news. The bad news was that there were ten jillion of the little devils.

I tore into it, and in two days had all the spots removed. The third day, I waxed the car by hand. A few times, I found some of those little specks that I had missed. The end result was that the beautiful fire-engine red was restored.

Everyone was happy and made it a point to tell me so and shake my hand. I ended up with a lot of brownie points and a $35 bonus as well as my regular wages.

Dave Thomas

1/29/2026

This year we will celebrate the 250^th anniversary of the founding of our country. This has been a sorrowful year for our democracy, and it got me to thinking of some of the trials and tribulations our nation has faced. In my thinking, I finally got to WWII and the Greatest Generation. Everyone gave support to the war effort, and, for many, that included their children. I was only five when the war started and almost nine when it ended, but I knew many friends and neighbors and townspeople who had sent their sons to war.

We lived at 19 Cliff Drive in Augusta, Kansas in our small town of 5,000 folks. Two doors south of us lived Harold and Martha Guest. Martha, who was known as “Mattie,” was the sister of my great aunt by marriage, Rachel (Wright)Peebler. Rachel was the wife of my uncle, Dave Peebler, and the two ladies were sisters of Johnny Wright.

Harold and Mattie certainly contributed to the war effort. Their son, Ed, went to the army, and their sons Bill and Jack went into the Navy. Their daughter, Jean, was going with a man named Wayne Porter who was in the Army, and their daughter, Jane, was going with Charlie Fennell who was in the Air Force. When Harold and Mattie or the girls received mail, the whole neighborhood knew due to the whoops and hollers emanating from their house.

Fortunately, all of the guys made it home after the war. I don’t remember what the other guys did, but Jack, who had quit high school to enlist, reentered Augusta High to finish up and get his degree. Jack was more interested in chasing girls and having fun than going to school. Everyone left for work before Jack had to get up, so I was hired as a “waker-upper” to go to the house and wake him up and to stay and nag him until he finally got up.

In later years, Harold, Mattie, Ed, Jack, and Wayne all moved to Los Angeles where the guys helped to build the massive 405 freeway.

This was a family that gave big in both war and peace.

Dave Thomas

1/22/2026

Ring-A-Ding-Ding

We didn’t have a telephone when I was growing up. While visiting friends and relatives, I was able to learn the protocols such as party lines, long distance, Information, and generally how you should conduct yourself. My small hometown, Augusta, Kansas, was probably considered as having a very small telephone system. Reading the newspaper ads, I learned that McDuffee’s Service Station was telephone number “2.” The Augusta Theater, I believe, was number “6,” and Howard Motors was “66.” My great uncle, Dave Peebler, was “413.” That should give you an idea of the system size. We had good neighbors who would take calls for Mom or Dad and come over to the house and get them.

When I was 10 or 12, the Gardner family had rented the house to the south of us. Billy and I played together every day and when we heard that you couple make a phone line with a couple of tin cans and some string or cord, we couldn’t wait to try it out. There was only about 20 feet between houses, and our bedrooms faced each other, so it was simple to string a line across. We had quite a time with our telephone. I’m not sure if the thing worked, or if we just heard each other shouting back and forth.

In March of 1957, I enlisted in the Navy. Three months later, coming home for leave after boot camp, I learned that my folks had both a telephone and a television. I guess that once you are rid of the person eating you out of house and home, you can afford the finer things.

In the 1970’s or 1980’s, remote telephones were designed and became popular. We had one. I was working for a company that designed and sold remote phones. Our company’s receptionist sat just inside the front door. A tech would place a base station on a small table near the girl. The remote phones were guaranteed to work up to 200 feet. It so happened that there was a telephone pole exactly 200 feet from the front door. The technician would lean on the telephone pole, and he and the receptionist would take turns making and receiving calls to see if the phone worked. It always looked like they were killing time, but they were actually doing a final test.

I don’t have a cell phone because I can’t see the apps on an Iphone. I have macular degeneration and am legally blind. I should explain that I have enough vision that with the help of a digital magnifier, I can handwrite these stories, and my daughter, Terri, types them and posts them to the blog. Cell phones connect you to the world. They can keep you in touch with your friends and relatives. When my wife, Pat, is talking on the phone and laughing, I know that everyone is all right.

I’m ending the way I started- with no phone. That’s the way it goes.

Dave Thomas

1/15/2026