JUNKYARD Action Auto Recyclers was next to Bill’s Barbershop, across from Leach’s Meats and Sweets. On Saturdays, you could get a maple cream stick, flattop from a one-legged man, and a radiator — all in the same morning. The cars rested on a sloping field behind a rough brown office, row upon row. After some chitchat with the man at the desk, who constantly realigned his glasses on his nose, Dad and I would wander out into the yard. A pristine blue sky poured over the wreckage below. Was it a Pontiac we came for?
Teeth?!
This was before airbags and seatbelt “acceptance.” Sometimes fingernails, too.
Oh wow!!! I wondered the same thing!