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Hi John Fry,

Those were some high tales and misdemeanors from John Platz '68!  A very good read indeed!

As to launching the station wagon, it would not have been 56th Street.  It would have been 58th Street.  Ha!  I know!  I lived only a football field away from the 'launch ramp' on Meade Ave.  So starting at Adelaide you take the deep dive south down 58th and hit the the flat spot (the launch ramp) at Meade Ave then fly off down to the bottom of the hill where Vale Way (my street) intersects 58th Street, which was at the east end of the football field (today's baseball field).

My little brother Cory was still mastering his 20" bicycle one day when he decided to challenge the 58th Street 'large downhill' course all by himself.  As my other two brothers Randy and Jeff and myself stood by down at the ramp on Meade Ave he released the brake and off he went.  All good until he hit the ramp. Uh oh!  His front wheel started to wobble out of control and he veered off to the right and hit the SW corner curb and launched himself over the handlebars and onto the grass of the corner house.  We all rushed over to see if we still had a little brother.  Luckily he was just fine, so we had a good laugh.

My brother Randy and I used to ride our unicycles backwards up the steep section of 58th Street.  I delivered the newspapers, SD Evening Tribune, SD Union, and Independent for 5 years, often with 60-80 pounds of newspapers stuffed in the front and rear pouches of my carrier bag and slung over my head.  I often had to crawl under the bag, poke my head in and then work to stand upright  Although I frequently delivered my papers on my unicycle, I usually delivered them on my 20" Schwinn Stingray with butterfly handlebars and banana seat, especially the heavy Sunday paper.  Climbing the hills and porch ramps around the neighborhood were quite a chore so I switched out my front socket to a much smaller one to make a very low gear.  With this low gear I could sit on the seat and successfully take on the steep 58th Steet challenge bottom to top. (It was also great for popping wheelies while sitting on the seat and proceeding endlessly down the street.)

Speaking of my 20" Stingray.  Yes, another ouch story!  With me on my bike and my three brothers on their skateboards, we zipped east on Vale Way and up 60th Street to Food Basket to get a king size package of Oreos.  When we left Food Basket we decided (can't remember whose stupid idea this was) to save some time and try to fit all four of us on the Stingray for the long ride back down the semi-steep 60th street.  Randy on the handlebars, Jeff and Cory on the banana seat, and I stood up on the pedals.  All was good until we got to the bottom where Estelle St intersects from the east.  Some jerk came flying through the intersection way over the speed limit and never even looked.  I stepped on the brakes real hard and Jeff and Cory slid forward knocking me off the pedals.  I put my feet down real hard and ended up straight-arming my left leg which, like a pole vaulter, launched all of us over the handlebars and on to the asphalt.  You think the jerk stopped?  Ha! Wishful thinking!  My left leg was real sore but figured I'd live.  I asked if everybody was OK and they said yes, except for some bruises and scratches on knees and elbows.  Suddenly, Jeff says, "Oh no!"  He picked up the package of Oreos that cushioned his fall and boy were they ever crushed!  We all burst into serious laughter and then I told everyone to 'Stop, Stop!'  They said, 'what's wrong?' With a pained look on my face I said, 'It hurts when I laugh!'  Being brothers, they burst into more laughter!

                                                                                                                                Greg Thomas '69
                                                                                                                                  March 25, 2025