The old Reo didn't have a lot of power to brag about--maybe about as much as a couple of wooden-legged donkeys. I remember we went to Lamesa in it one time. Going up the Cap Rock, it just couldn't make it alone. The road was steep and rocky. The Buick, which we bought later, would go up the hill with all of us still in the car. But the Reo was different. We not only had to get out and walk up, we had to push the Reo up too. There were about four or five of us pushing, and two of us were carrying rocks to put behind the wheels when it stopped. Then the driver would "rev" up the motor, let up on the clutch, and with all of us working together, we would move the car forward and upward two or three steps. Then again, rocks behind the wheels--quickly. That kind of life gave people something to do besides griping and asking Washington for handouts. It also gave a man pride in ownership, especially if the car he owned would outdo the car his neighbor owned. Bragging on your car was a way of life in early carhood days. If a man had a car that could do anything his neighbors couldn't do, that was something to brag about. No two cars were alike. But now, 60 years later, we find that auto-makers have wiped out all differences and are making all cars alike. No matter which company made the car you are driving today, you have nothing to brag about. Today's cars all have at least four things in common- -they are too big, too powerful, too costly and burn too much gasoline. But it hasn't always been that way. About the same year we bought our Reo, a neighbor family of ours had a flat tire. They set the emergency brake while they jacked up the car to put the spare on. Then when they got going again, they forgot to release the brake and drove about a half-mile with the brake on. Later, one of the boys in that family bragged that their car was so powerful it went a half-mile with both hind wheels sliding. My brother, Frank, got rid of his motorcycle and his Buick car and bought a Grant auto. It had a reputation of having great power. They said you could run the front bumper up against a tree and it had enough power to sit there and spin the wheels on dry land. That was a lot of power for that time. One fellow who didn't think too highly of the Grant said he knew a man who bought one and, not having a garage to lock it in, drove it out by his hog pen and chained it to the pen. That night some thieves came, cut the chain and stole the pen. But before cars made it so handy for farmers to drive into town to buy supplies, peddlers were already plentiful, bringing supplies to the farmers. Horse-drawn rigs were apt to pull up at our farm almost anytime. They had for sale most anything you might want, from kitchen utensils to medicine; hardware to veterinarian supplies; needles and thread and blue denim. You name it--they had it--even horseshoes and nails.