Like most young men, few possessions are more memorable than my first car. I washed and polished every square inch of that 62’ Nova convertible at least once a week. I scrubbed the whitewalls with SOS pads and then sprayed on Lemon Pledge. (This was way before tire-care products.) Pledge also worked great on the convertible top and the vinyl upholstery!
Mom often queried about how many cans of Pledge it took to keep the furniture polished. I’m pretty sure she never figured out that most of it went on the Nova. She also never solved the mystery of the missing Q-Tips. Those little babies make great detail swabs for those tough to reach areas around the air ducts and gauges. I’ve dedicated many a Saturday ensuring that my girlfriend, Marilyn, rode in a showroom-fresh car.
By the time I dropped the top and snapped the boot cover in place, I was a happy man. But I was a man with a serious logistics problem. I was trapped on a deserted island with no way to the mainland. We lived on a dirt road.
Lake Road was gravel. For years, Fairfield County sprayed oil on the dirt roads in front of each house to hold the dust down. Then, in the early 60’s, they came through with real asphalt—but only paved the sections they had previously oiled. And now in 1965, traveling either direction toward civilization resulted in billowing clouds of lung-choking, upholstery-impregnating, dashboard-covering dust.
Having sanitized every inch of my Nova, the only solution was drive painfully slow the entire four miles to State Route 37. The needle on my squeaky clean speedometer barely bounced off “zero” as I prayed there would be no oncoming traffic. A passing car resulted in a shower of stones and a whirlwind of Berne Township dust. Like a hippo tiptoeing through lily pads, I’d idle the Nova to North Berne, yearning for a paved road. As I crossed the final bridge, I’d pull into the North Berne Bar, knowing that if my parents saw me there, I would have some “esplainin’ to do!” To quote Grandma Hart, “A Christian boy SHOULD’NT EVEN BE SEEN parked at a beer joint!”
Suppressing guilt, I’d pull in just long enough to wipe down the Nova. I carried a cleanup kit in the trunk: a bucket, rags, a fresh towel, and of course, a can of Pledge. The four miles of dusty road from 2249 Lake Road to North Berne took thirty minutes. But it was worth every second. I’d give her a quick rub down, freshen the tires with Pledge and I was soon flying low on my way toward Perry County and the girl I loved. Some things are just worth the effort.
I’m happy to report that I still have the same girlfriend. I wish I still had the Nova.
Some things help us get where we want to go, and others help us become who we ought to become. I’m exceedingly grateful that a dating relationship with Marilyn grew into a life-long marriage. I’m also grateful that the Lord has embraced me relationally as well. I was 16 when I fell for Marilyn and I was 16 when I recognized I wanted to be in relationship with God through His Son, Jesus Christ. The great thing about my relationship with Jesus is that no matter how many dusty roads I travel, He continually restores my spirit to its spotless condition. He’s not a fool, He knows I’m not spotless, but He covers me with His compassion.
The Psalmist, anticipating his relationship with the Savior, speaks for us,
“Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.” Psalm 51:2
I hope you travel with Him, too. If you have questions, I talk with Him often… I’ll pass them along.
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.