We went to a Halloween party in a suburb northwest of Detroit.  We were young, 23, and in costumes.  My friend went with my fiance and I to the party.  We all were teachers and the party was a bit tame by today’s standards.  We left the party around one a.m..It started to rain hard after we got in the car.

We were on I-75 in Detroit.  As we got onto the ramp of I-94, a major merge of two major freeways. my car, a Ford Pinto that was a mere two years old, threw a rod in the engine block.  It made a horrible noise.  “My car died.”  I said.

My fiance pulled the car way off the shoulder as we coasted onto I-94.  It was obvious that the car was not going to work anymore.  I was in the passenger seat, and my friend was in the back seat.  Suddenly, out of costume, my fiance got out of the car and walked out in the freezing cold rain and stuck his thumb out to hitch hike.  My friend and I just sat there.  “Did he just get out of the car?”  I heard her answer:  “Yes.”

A Detroit Police Stress car pulled over onto the shoulder.  We saw the flashing lights through the rain.  These cars are made out of steel, with large battering rams on the front.  A policeman knocked on the driver’s side window.  I quietly cranked the window down.  He looked at each of us, in costume, using a blinding flashlight.  “Where’s the driver?” he asked.

My friend and I remembered that he got into a black sports car and drove off.  “We are Kindergarten teachers.  We went to a party.” I said. “My fiance got into a black sports car and drove away.”

I think he said “Damn it..”  He was out of his area of jurisdiction, he said.  He told us to stay IN the car and to not roll down the window again even if someone stops and looks like a policeman on Halloween.

He left in a hurry.  In moments a V.W. van with flowers and peace symbols painted on it pulled over in front of us.  A lanky young man in bib overalls with no shirt or shoes came to look into the car.  I shook my head.  He got back into the van and pulled away.

My friend and I sat in the car, numb, and listened to the rain on the roof of the car.  In a short time, it seemed, a well lit tow truck pulled onto the shoulder ahead of us.  My fiance got out of the black sports car and waved a thanks to the driver.  To my horror, my future father-in-law pulled up behind us.  We got out of the Pinto and slid on the wet embankment to get into the back seat of his new, expensive car.

The Pinto was towed to an unknown place.  My fiance and his father got into the new, expensive car.  This all happened as two Stress Police cars pulled up.  They exchanged conversation with my fiance, who again exited a car. I heard them say, “You were lucky tonight son!”

My future father-in-law drove us to our newly purchased home.  He did not need to say anything.  Once inside the house my husband told us what happened.  He had played the sax in a swing band at the top of a well known Detroit hotel.  The man in the sports car recognized my fiance and drove him to a 24 hour gas and towing station.  There my fiance had to call his dad.  There wasn’t even a dream about cell phones at that time.

I cried a moment about the dead car, and the evening’s events.  After that we were so tired I don’t even remember where we slept, in costumes like Kindergartners.  My husband had removed his. This story has been written in blood in our family folk lore.

I think my father-in-law was furious, but I never heard a thing.