Saturday’s column noted our responsibility of securing transportation in all types of weather. As noted in a previous column, my brother Kevin and I would sit on “the wishing wall” at the base of Brighton Road, wishing that anyone going up the hill would transport us.

Slats Kotuby drove a ’54 Ford pickup, and if there wasn’t room in the cab, you got in the back.

Leaving high school in a snowstorm, we piled into his truck. Slats wore thick “shot” glasses. When the wipers went out, Slats stuck his head out the window, driving the truck like railroad engineer Casey Jones in a driving snowstorm and a temperature of 24.

Everything was frozen on Slats’ head, and he was then known as “Admiral Byrd.”