Waiting to put the pedal to the metal?

Buzzing of the saws, and humming of the flame thrower lightly singeing the rough exterior of the car, is all you hear in the air. A man appears from beneath the car wiping sweat and grease from his forehead and patting it into his work uniform, Thomas Dyer, a man who’s worked with cars basically his whole life. As he leaves his job, he nears home to start over again. Pulling in the driveway there sits an unfinished 1971 Chevrolet Chevelle Malibu Super Sport. He’s been working on it for some time, and his work is showing.

The question in the mind of many people is Do the men who work on these cars want them to be finished or do they enjoy building? The answer lies in the heart of the man or women.

For this dashing man, the answer is “Yes, I wish someone would come take this car and fix it and bring to back.”

He got this car after he scarified his 1969 Chevelle SS for a cougar xr7 which was a more suitable family car when he had his son Damian. Thomas and Kelly got married, and he got the car sitting in his drive way right now. They had a daughter and Tom started his habit of putting off working on the car to support his family.

Life got hard because his work moved to Mexico, which he couldn’t do because it was too much of a struggle to get up and move. He searched and searched for a new mechanic job which he found to be difficult even though he’s a full time worker who knows what he’s doing. He’s an ASE (Automotive Service Excellence) certified. He finally found a job and began working again. He made a lot of progress but stopped for the winter.

His only dream is to have his baby up and running again. He really deserves it.

Most men in America work on old cars, new cars, and restore cars just for fun. It takes years, but it’s a natural interest and a big pastime. They enter car shows and contests to see whose car will end up on top. The real answer to that question is they want the car to be finished, but they love strapping on those gloves and diving into the world of tools and cars.

Thomas Dyer is planning on starting again soon in hopes to finish his car.

Slams down the wielding mask, starts the flame and turns around and puts on the side panel. The banging begins again. The smell lights up the air and the car rocks back and forth from the hard work. Garage doors close.

Crime Striking Young?

Sweeping across the nation more and more kids are falling to the clutches of evil. They steal, beat up, and sometimes even cause death to others. Kids begin cults, gangs, and then don’t give a rat’s hat about the law. They disrespect cops, and break laws as easily as breaking a glass plate.

     Drugs are the main things kids do, they gather in different places and cause corruption to the surrounding world. Outside of WaWa they group up and smoke, until a cop runs over and breaks it up.

     Kids began to drink and drive a lot causing accidents and killings. Those kids walk away from the accident scene unharmed while another family goes home morning the death of a loved one. But do these kids even care? They get the occasional nightmares, but does it really affect their “important” lives?

     For most it does, it causes grief and crying themselves to sleep every night. Others carry on like it never happened.

In Sterling High School, there are many robberies. A boy just got his clothes, ipod, and new phone stolen out of his gym locker, forcing him to walk around in his gym clothes all day. He had to break the news to the principle, but he’ll never get his stuff back.

 A few years ago, in another school a few boys killed themselves for being made fun of. They were gay and went to different schools. They didn’t fit in because they were gay and they got the laughing finger pointed on them.

Several years ago, a father went crazy and killed his to kids and then himself. It hit the kid’s friends hard because he was only a third grader. This happened in Magnolia. It was a rough few years after that and none of us will ever forget you Michael Wasserman.

     Crime comes in all sorts and sizes and affects everyone differently. Hopefully the statistics lower soon, for the sake of the future.

            Have you ever ridden over a bridge not to far from here? The one you most likely don’t know the name of because as your mother tells you, you slowly make the radio louder to drown out her nasally voice. It doesn’t work as planned, but maybe it was for your own good you heard her. You watch as her lips curl and twist to form the words Walt Whitman Bridge out of her mouth. This huge bridge connects Philadelphia and Gloucester City. The Walt Whitman Bridge spans across the deep blue Delaware River and was assembled in 1953. The beautiful city Gloucester happens to be a great place to get away and relax, or even make memories…

     There once was a small child, her name was Harley Ann. She always loved visiting grandma’s house, but there was never any time for those typical milk and cookie breaks, at least not when you’re a child on the run. Tiny Harley would tug Mommy and Daddy’s arm to take her outside. They’d venture onward trough the town where her mother grew up. Harley Ann always loved one certain park not so far own the block. She’d teeter-totter around and laugh at her brother being crazy and tried to keep up as her blonde hair glistened in the sunshine. The sound of the swings gliding back and forth through the air always lured in the wide-eyed curious Harley. She’d hear Mommy say “Honey be careful in front of those!” Harley paid no attention. Her older brother, Damian, pushed her awhile until he grabbed her chubby hand and rushed to the gazebo. The whole crew was there; Mom, Dad, Aunts, Uncles, Grandma, and even cousin Melissa. They would be conversing and giggling. Other families would be around, but Harley wasn’t scared. Gloucester kids have a reputation for being tough. They are but they’re all kind people.

    

     At the gate of the park stands an intriguing statue. This piece of history is surrounded by big beautiful trees still missing some leaves. There are two winding pathways leading up and around this majestic creation. It resembles a dull metallic black statue of a role model. She appears nude and is bending over half way as if to catch her breath. It shows her drying off with a towel. She swam the Delaware River up and back like this to Philly and back to New Jersey. Someone placed a scarf around her neck.

     After the park you can walk down a block and walk out to see the Delaware River perfectly. Smell the smells of the water, the boats flowing softly over the crest of the water, and the birds flapping their wings in cool breeze. To the left are boats and construction machines; to the right lays the bright sky that’s looks painted and suspended in mid air and the breath taking sight of the bridge in the distance. Stationed there is a Coast Guard base, most teenagers hang outside of there on the grass. It’s a large white building with many windows and a parking lot all its own.  

     If you want to go for a stroll, there are many stores close together. If you’re a drinker, Gloucester City is known for having the most bars in any city in the world one on almost every corner. The best ice cream store, The Frozen Cow, is up for rent, but there’s plenty more places for that yummy dessert. A little shop called Family Store is located on a corner that is friendly and it has small things sort of like a walgreens. If you see a small convenient store called The News Agency you are nearing the end of the city. But there are churches, stores, and a lot of fun places on every street. A great recommendation for a hair cut is a tiny place called Hair Peace located on the 500^th block of Monmouth.

     The buildings of the town give off an old fashioned look, and most haven’t been tinkered with so they are original. The schools are mainly all close together; several catholic schools and elementary schools. Harley’s Mom attended St. Mary’s and Gloucester High. The kids were tough, so you had to be tough back.

     Now back to grandma’s house, the stories flow out of the mouths of everyone as Harley played a little guitar and sang nonsense. The street the house was located on was once owned by Harley’s great great great grandma, and the house has been in the family for 150 years. Row homes in Gloucester used to be resting places. Literally. Families used to place their loved ones and their coffins in the living room. Boxes of pictures have been discovered and it was an odd sight to see. The spirits of these people now haunt the houses. Harley’s mom and aunts share their ghost stories and it seemed scary. Basements were nothing but dirt sort of like a giant hole just there. The houses are four stories high and had many rooms and winding staircases. They are simply beautiful.

     As sleepy Harley yawns in the back seat, the night is coming to an end. Her eyes dreary with the hope of rest as the street lights shine on her baby face and music blares in the car and she squirms in her condensed car seat. Another fulfilling day at grandmas.