I Left My Mark

My parents were so proud of our new Chevy, a two tone green ’53. It was the first new family car we had since moving from Georgia to Florida. I really thought it was mine, too!

I heard my mother calling my name in somewhat of a high pitched voice. I was in trouble! I joined her outside by our car.

“Why did you do this?” She was pointing to the back left fender which was now personalized with the name “Ruth” scratched into the new green paint. A nail could be seen nearby on the ground.

I was four and I had just learned to print my name. But follow the reasoning of a four year old here…

“Why do you think it was me? There are two other people named Ruth in church. Maybe one of them did it.” (Ruth Thomas, 60 years old, was the church secretary and Ruth Partridge, about 30 years old, was in my mother’s Bible study class.) I was amazed to think my mother did not consider it could be one of them!

I don’t remember anything else about that day but it probably included a spanking. My name remained on that fender. In fact, I can still close my eyes and see my rusted, printed mark years later!

There is no picture of the fender but you can see the victimized car and 5 year old Ruth on one of our fishing trips!