the life and loves of the nerk, ahia




SENIOR PROM 1959

'hurry up and pop that flashbulb we are heading out to blue jay road'


wife one, nancy wife one and one half, beth wife two, joyce

this page is about to tell you
more than you ever wanted to know
about the heartbreak in the life of one
philip "daddy o" vaughn



why blue jay road
you ask...


Hello Doc. Therapist: Have a seat on the couch there
Mr. Vaughn. Daddy O: Sure Doc. Therapist: Now Mr. Vaughn tell me about this
problem. Daddy O: Well it all started with my Mother. Therapist: It always does.
Daddy O: Doc are you paid to talk or to listen? Therapist: Sorry, continue.
Daddy O: See me sittin' on the fender in that top photo? That was the
love of my life, my 1931 Ford Model "A" Coupe.

This little jewel was bought in 1956 at Cochran Motors
on South Sixth Street in Newark, Ohio for the whopping sum of $75.
Two years were spent driving it around the courthouse square.
Babes would jump in it at traffic lights screaming,
"Take me for a ride". There was a small sign in the
rear window that said "Don't laugh lady, your daughter may be in here." In '59 the
coupe was completely torn apart to transform it into a chopped and channeled
California hotrod, complete with a rebuilt V8 engine.

Therapist: Mr. Vaughn, in looking over this page it begs the question, how have you
come to know so many women? Daddy O: Work with me here Doc, I'm trying
to tell a story. Therapist: Sorry, continue. Daddy O: First thing that happened was the
great flood of '59. The V8 engine was stored in Roddy's garage and she
lived next to Raccoon Creek...the rebuilt engine was lost, totally ruined.
Therapist: And Roddy was? Daddy O: The big prom picture
above Doc see the tongue draggin' on the ground.

That fall my Mother tied me up, tossed me the back seat of our Buick sedan and drove
off to Athens. In spite of flunking high school and on the basis of my s.a.t scores,
she had managed to enroll me in Ohio University. All I wanted to do was
stay in Newark, work on my car and have fun with Roddy. Every weekend
I would thumb home and do just that......and then it happened (tears welling up).
Therapist: Here....have a tissue.....so Roddy was gone?
Daddy O: Sniff...sniff.......no. Therapist: Continue.



Daddy O: Must have been about November, rushing home from Athens,
stop in the house to say hello, rush to the backyard to hug
my "almost little duce coupe". There I stood, trembling, starring at a brown patch
of dirt and four wheel ruts. Ok, ....ok, be calm, they just moved it.
Frantically looking around, in garage, back of garage.....no wheels. Ok....ok, stop
hyperventilating, there has to be an answer.... so i walk back into
the house. Mom had called Red Crispen, the junk yard man
and paid him to haul my dream away.

I spent that weekend locked in my room. I was devastated, the very thing I cared most about in the whole world was gone.....forever. Thearapist: How long did it take you to get over this trauma? Daddy O: It's been fifty six years Doc, and the pain hasn't gone away yet. Thearapist: We must learn to dissolve our bitter memories and march onward. Daddy O: Dissolve this Doc!

Mom had a reason, however lame and good intentioned. She had given me one piece of advice, "Get the heck out of Newark." Her plan was, once the car was gone, I had no reason to ever return to the small, industrial city at the forks of the Licking Rivers.


this site dedicated to
'pama-jama'
lost in the wilds of canada,
we miss you pamela "yellowknife" watt





donna

lora

marcel

carol
friends who have most influenced my life






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