Had been handy at twisting wrenches since about the age of thirteen, so naturally I wanted to do something like that when I finally could get a job.

A friend of my father's owned an auto repair shop in Granada Hills, and I applied as "a mechanic". He immediately realized that a sixteen-year-old had very-limited experience, and replied, "What I NEED is an Indian".

So, what do I remember most?

I spent my days picking up and delivering customer's cars, or running for "dealer-only" parts. When I wasn't doing that I was the one at the solvent tank washing transmission cases, degreasing heads (remember, this was the era of "sludge"), or pulling wheels, cleaning bearings, and stripping shoes off of backing plates.

I learned just how hard "Indians" work.

It was good for me!

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