By: Gary Gray

Anybody who grew up on a farm can tell you about the car’s they have owned. Anybody who grew up on a farm will also tell you that when they have driven their last mile in that car, where it eventually ended up. Behind the Barn. more…

By: Gary Gray

When I was a teenager in the early 1970′s I used to tag along with my older brother to what was then called “moto-cross” races. We had a Dodge van that had a converted interior with all the trappings of the day; the paneled interior, shag carpet, bed, eight-track stereo, the works. The cherry paint job, the shiny chrome mag wheels and side pipes were guaranteed to attract attention. I think they were referred too as “sin-dens” back in those days. It was one groovy van. more…

By: Gary Gray

I was tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I sat in my car at a crowded stop light on Highway 60 near Clever, Missouri when I spotted the tilted sign along the roadside. With an arrow pointing right, the signs inscription read – Battlefield. more…

By: Gary K. Gray

“LEON.” I Said.

This was the view from the rear window of the car as we exited Versailles. My sisters had no clue what I was talking about, they seldom did. They were busy doing their bouncing and I was stuck in between them. Sometimes they would bounce in unison and the car would surge forward and back as though it were dragging an anchor that would occasionally grab and then let go of the road, only in synchronous fashion. Other times, they would bounce alternately, which made the car wobble as it sped along the road, again in perfect synchronization as though the axles were bent. more…