.... by D. Grant DeMan

During the mid-fifties the Township engaged a new Chief Constable, formerly of the Royal Canadian Mounted, who had earned a reputation as a fair but tough cop throughout the land of Saskatchewan. Jack Whatcome (a fictitious name, but a very real person)was one of the first policemen hired for the chief's reformation of the Township Police. Jack, a decorated WW II RCAF pilot, and former RCM Police Officer was assigned to investigate the very first motor vehicle accident. Some think this is a good account of the incident while others well may differ. Names have been changed to protect the actors - and the author!

"Wow! I'm so pleased with our new car Danny. So intensely fast, and just feel the smooth quality. Shall we trip to Hamilton this weekend?" Frances cuddled closer, gently squeezing his knee while sipping Coke through a red and white Candycane straw.

"Hey, Sweetheart give a man some room here. And don't go sloppin' none of your cola on the brand new Bull Leather seat." He smiled and kissed her; all was well with the world. Didn't he have a good job at General Motor's Diesel, a fine apartment all to himself where he and Fran could party, and now a brand new Buick four door Century Hardtop? Three colors! With a big V8 that would do a hundred and thirty, no problem. Just listen to that purring power. And dig the crazy radio!

Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rawhide!

"My oh my, Danny Boy oh Danny Boy, like the big old harvest moon my love for you is risin' high in the sky." He could feel the burning warmth of her through his Suntans, his being smoldering in her scent. "You like me?" she teased. "How absolutely delightful I feel this evening, I'm sure."

"Oh Fran. Ooooh Honey. Maybe you better not do that. Ohhh"

"Danny, Danny, Danny. Pull over here at the top of the Windamere Rise and let's baptize the big automobile. Oh, come on Babe. I just can't wait to hold my big big man. Do imbue me with the honeylove of a Big Bad Buick Buck."

He eased the car well off the road, jammed it in park, and set the radio to CFPL.

Keep movin', movin', movin'
Though they're disapprovin'

He and Fran had been steadies just long enough to develop a tender routine. The steering wheel formed a fine clothes hanger, he remembered, glimpsing her halloed in the sliver of available light, in awe of that wholesome beauty as she eased into the posh back seat.

"Oh Baby, Hey, hold up. I gotta get my shoes off don't I?" Danny cried, tossing the McCanns in the front with the rest of the apparel. He took her in his arms then, never noticing that his left blue suede had struck the shift lever which brought it down from park to drive; that the big three-ton Buick had now begun a trip of it's very own as a familiar song rang in the heat of the evening.

Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rollin', rollin', rollin'
Rawhide!

That evening the intensity of their love far exceeded all previous moments. Perhaps it was the leather seats, the piney new car aroma mingling with Fran's Here's My Heart Perfume and his Morning Tawny Brawn Cologne. Oh the fragrance, the pulse of their hearts pounding in rhythmic union. "Whoo Danny. I love you so!" She held him feverishly and he kissed her over and over and over again, as the melody went, "won'tcha be my girl?" True love is like this, he thought, realizing he'd never never before felt the real thing. Even his wildest dreams could not conjure such rapture. Deep within a smooth soft sweet love, a burning mutual appetite lying far beyond the horizon, he felt himself transported with Fran into those clouds to die happy. La Petite Mort the French call it. Paradise - her tender lips pressing his, their souls entwined always. It was a Take Me to the Stars brand of Heaven...forever and ever.

Set 'em out, ride 'em in
Ride 'em in, let 'em out,
Cut 'em out, ride 'em in Rawhide.

Frances and Dan thus reached their heavenly heights with a shuddering shattering crash as the car came to a sudden simultaneous crunch against a bridge abutment at the lip of an embankment. "Owohewow!" Dan cried.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Went the steam from the radiator behind the cracked half-ton of chrome grill and bumper.

"Whoooshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Came the lover's response.

A moment passed before Dan looked up through the window, saw the pussy willows, and for the first time realized that all that rocking wasn't due solely to their loving. "We have moved," he whispered.

"Oh Danny we're so moving moving moving. The earth moved. There's a whole lotta shaking going on Baby!"

"No. I mean the car's really rolled. Sheesh, we musta gone a mile and now were in the ditch. Oh golly, my new car!" He reached over the seat grasping for the wheel, the shift or whatever would help. But of course nothing would. Back and forth the Buick teetered ever nearer the ravine's edge.

Rock rock rock 'till the broad daylight
Have ya heard the news, there's good rockin' tonight

"Do something, Danny. We'll be killed dead in the together like this and what would mom say to that? I mean how could I ever explain the embarrassment of it all?" The automobile was wobbling, ever closer to the river. It was just then that they saw the cop.

"Excuse me Sir and Madam, but you do seem to be having some difficulty here. Would you mind if I took a look at your operator's permit and ownership?" The officer seemed amused.

"Okay, hand me my britches from the front seat there. If we move I think the car's going over," said Danny timidly.

"Have no fear, sir. Sit quietly for there's a tow truck en route and to the rescue." Frances began to recover from her shock, taking notice of the tall male strength of the officer, her mind in conjecture of the muscle and sinew that lay beneath the leather of his Sam Brown, the large shiny steel pistol and navy blue serge uniform. So strong so utterly commanding. Is it proper for a lady to dream of the joys of a clandestine affair with a policeman in the smelly old back seat of a cruiser car? she thought, and then blushed as though the men were reading her mind.

"I'm Constable Jack Whatcome with the Township Police. If you can manage it please dress, and presently I'll escort you to the station for an accident report. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir!" They responded in chorus, and were duly led into separate basement rooms at the police station where they filed their statements.

"Oh Jack," wailed Frances. "It was no one's fault really. A new automobile all kermunched like that and it must have slipped out of gear or the brake wasn't right or something. Oh Jack...My you're tall..." Using all the guile she could muster she allowed her big baby blues to seek his like Marilyn in the movies, pleading for mercy. That stupid Danny, him and his big car. While she loved the thing dearly, it seemed opportune to take an inquiring look at the nut behind the steering wheel -- the bulge between his shoulders -- as well, and she suddenly became unconvinced of the endurance of her appetite for that rude combination. I have a notion constables possess more than a modicum of enhanced savoir-faire, she thought, eyeing more of Constable Whatcome than he would ever imagine.

"Are you married, Jack?" Fran came right out of the blue with it, pleased with the startled look on Dan's boyish face.

"Connie and I are quite happy, thank you," he replied with a smile and turned to her partner: "Daniel, since we have declined to lay charges at this time, you and the young lady are free to go. We shall drive you to the garage where the vehicle was taken."

At Paddy's Motors the couple picked up the temporarily repaired Buick and drove home in spirits somewhat diminished from those that initiated the day. Even while embracing at Frances' front door, somehow they knew their love would never again attain the blush of those former erotic moments of transport.

During the ensuing years Frances confined the focus of her affection to members of the constabulary: one week perhaps being honeycombed near Sudbury, the next in Tilsonburg. She sampled the lips of city as well as county officers, Ontario Provincials and Mounties - wherever and however she found them - finally giving her hand to the Chief of Newmarket whom she then motivated to a position of Deputy Minister of Justice for the Old Dominion.

As it turned out Danny was not quite as dull as Frances suspected. He soon rose to an executive position, which provided a Cadillac limousine, marketing Diesel Locomotives to major railroads. Memberships in the world's most prestigious country and golf clubs were included, with stock options, of course.

Jack Whatcome made sergeant of the Township Police, and subsequently Chief of Bucks County. He further enhanced a law career through court positions and now is a reputable minister of the Gospel presiding over his Yorkville Wedding Salon in partnership with his true love, Connie, bringing joy to a parade of celebrating couples.

My hearts calculatin'
My true love's a-waitin',
A-waitin' at the end of my ride
Rawhide!

All reminisce on that memorable amorous journey, and relate the story to good company over cocktails at four. To be first at anything is indeed an accomplishment, even if it's the very first automobile crash of the Chief's Township Revival.

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