St. Paul is one of the Twins, as in Twin Cities. Minneapolis is the bigger twin. I've lived and worked in both. I prefer to live in St.Paul.
I needed a place to rent or buy. Looking for a better part of a week I found a Contract for Deed $3000 down,
$350 a month. An older home, it had been remodeled with attached newer two-car garage. It had plenty of shade and a yard that was fenced in. Along with the appliances were a washer and dryer.
After settling up on the house, I unloaded my bike, tools and parts into the attached garage. One side for my Shovelhead, the other side Wolf (4x4). I hooked up my Akai reel-to-reel system, wired in my ten speakers, and cranked my tunes up. I lived behind a junkyard, they didn't give a fuck how loud I got. Put new one-key locks on all the doors. Found a dog pound and bought a Doberman, named him “Sadat”.
Monday morning I went to the unemployment office. Changed my drivers license. Used the want ads to buy a king-sized bed. Friends knew I needed furniture, so they organized a furniture drive. Veterans wives know how to do this, and it helped some of them get the new furniture they wanted. A leather-covered couch and recliner, a table set, a new furnace with central air (I would need it, that summer was one of our hottest). My bedroom and bath were upstairs.
The last two items I purchased were a TV and a deep freezer. After searching the veterans used-clothing store, I was set. Unemployment checks were coming. In those days if you were a “seasonal worker, you didn't have to look for work,,,another union benny.
With all this time, I put “Wolf” in my spacious garage and dropped the tranny. The junkyard next door had a nearly new 4 speed, I put it in, and Wolf's howl ceased, though I still called her Wolf. The garage was newer and had been 220 wired. I bought a welder and finished all the body repairs on Wolf - primered the body, painted her salmon and waited for spring.
A grocery, gas station and liquor store were on the next block. I was three stop lights from the freeway. Neighbors were mostly white, though an AIM school (American Indian Movement) was a few blocks away. A few bars, a bike clubhouse.
That spring an old friend needed some help sandblasting, wanting me to be his “groundman” as I had worked for him years earlier. The job lasted two weeks. Driving back to the Cities, I spotted a '57 Chevy Bel Air two-door Post. We stopped, I bought it, talked my bud into driving it home for me. It needed to be rebuilt, something I was able and willing to do.
I had a '67 327 engine I hauled over to my bud's garage. I was working on his Shovelhead. We traded knowledge: I knew Harleys, he knew Chevys. A month later, I was finished. The '57 now had a 375 horsepower 327 motor, rebuilt aluminum bodied powerglide. I had found four old Crager 15” rims. I painted the body Camaro “Hugger Orange”- finished the interior with a new carpet.
My Mex Buddy did the seats in black rolled and pleated Old Style. I hit the swap meets and found a complete fiberglass tilt front fenders and hood. When ‘57 was all said and done, my costs were $1000 for the car and $800 in parts and favors. I had a car that was now worth $6000. This was before OPEC, the stock market, and corporations took over this country. Life was good.
I had kept women out of my house and life, though that would soon change, and I would lose everything again thanks to Minnesota and domestic laws. Seems they squirelled in a law that said: we can take all you own, forbid you to enter your own home, and give it to your wife. Even though we had been separated, we hadn't bothered with divorcing each other. Wife number 2 had found me while trying to serve me with divorce papers. What she saw, she liked. What she liked, she wanted. In my bed we went. Having sex with an estranged wife is a no-no.
You have now reconciled so off to family court and the State of MN...GAVE HER MY HOUSE AND EVERYTHING IN IT!!! I was required to pay for it. I had a contract for deed on it. The court said I could not come within 500 feet of her. She had told the court she was afraid of me. I was a Vietnam Veteran and had killed! Duh thats what ya do in war!!!
I was found guilty of battery, I had yelled at her “Bitch you fucked up my life!” My friends went into my house and got my bike, tools, and '57. I had been smart enough to list these items in the incorporation papers my bud and I filed. Within one year, the guy who owned the deed had evicted them. I had told him why I wasn't gonna pay anymore. Now my good name was “deadbeat”. I divorced her. It was the 1980s. The gravel pit was shut down. Times were gonna get worse before they got better. I would be houseless, and that Vietnam War would come back to haunt my dreams!!!! HOW BOUT THEM PACKERS
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