J is for Junkyard

Tagging along with Dad to the Junkyard

I don’t know why this memory worked its way to the surface this week. Dad didn’t have much time to spend with his children. He worked long hours and often had a long drive to get to that work.

He did his own auto repairs, back in those days before so much became electronic or computerized. When the car broke down, he figured out the problem, bought a used part and put it in himself.

The used parts came from junkyards, so first he had to find a wrecked or defunct vehicle with the right parts in it. Then he removed the part and paid a fee to the junkyard owner. It was labor intensive but probably saved him a lot of money over the years.

A few times, I remember going with him to the junkyards. To a small kid, they were spooky places full of rusting and destroyed autos with the weeds growing up around them.

(previously published on Bubblews October 30, 2014)


4 thoughts on “J is for Junkyard

  1. That’s a great memory. My Dad fixed our car as well. He could fix anything. But his cousin used to go to the junkyard and bring back stuff for my Dad. My Mom wasn’t too fond of that!


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