An Average Day At The Engine Show


| December/January 1998



Flywheels Engine

Interpreted (since he can't talk yet)  by his Poppy Gus Simms 25 North Front Street Mountaintop, Pennsylvania 18707

I wave bye-bye to my mommy and daddy as I take my place, in my baby seat, between Poppy (Gus) and Grammy (Pat) in the front of our pick up truck. I get a feeling of excitement as I look forward to my first show this season.

I visited several shows last season, but admit I don't remember much, except flywheels and a lot of popping and banging noises. I was only eight months old. 1 really like flywheels a lot. The bigger the better.

I really got interested in engines this winter, when I would visit Pop's workshop while he worked on his generators. So many tools, so many engines, so much to push, pull, twist and turn. So much grease! What fun!

After what seems an eternity, we arrive at the show. I can hardly contain myself, but thoughtfully help with the tasks of setting the tent over the trailer and getting the camp set up. After the chores we relax over a little breakfast.

Now comes the part I've waited for for so long. Pop helps me unload my engine, my 'first' engine. It's a Montgomery Ward 'Hummer' (so I'm told). Pop bought it for me this spring. I was a little afraid of it at first, but now I like the steady putt-putt noise it makes. I confidently get the gas can and top off the fuel tank. Then make a few adjustments with my screwdriver. Now let's see if it will start. I try the kick pedal, but I'm still not heavy enough to turn the engine. How embarrassing! Pop comes to my rescue and with a few kicks, has it putt-putting nicely. I grin, and happily listen to it as a few people stop to look and listen. I'm so proud! I decide to shut it down and try to start it again. After placing my screwdriver in my Pop's hand, I guide his hand to short out the spark plug. I've tried this by myself, but Pop stops me and says I'll get shocked. I try the kick pedal again and this time with the help of Pop's hand, it starts on the first kick. Now I'm really proud, as I point my engine out to passers-by. Well, all this kicking and putting makes me feel tired, so I tug Grammy's pant leg to tell her I need my bottle and a short nap.