This is where the story takes a sad turn.
After the kids were done with the promenade, I drove Pearline away from the school with my girlfriend in the front seat. We met the parents of another senior student at a restaurant about 20 miles away. We had a drink and a charcuterie plate while we talked about our futures without kids in the house.
About 9:30, we left the restaurant, with our friends following behind. I got onto Interstate 40 and headed toward home. I’d made it about 10 miles from home when I suddenly lost all acceleration. The RPMs were over 4,000, but the speed was down to 40 MPH. I pulled over to the shoulder with our friends right behind us in their Lexus. He turned on his emergency lights while semi trucks drove past at 75 MPH.
With the car in gear and the clutch released, I couldn’t move forward or backward. Clearly, this was a clutch or transmission problem. But, we weren’t going to solve it on the side of the interstate at 10 PM. So, I called a tow truck driver that I knew and he rescued us in pretty short order.
I thought I was done with the mechanical stuff, but clearly, I’m not.