written By John R. Greenwood |  Photo provided

[From the 2025 Holiday Magazine]

Our two sons are married and have sons of their own. My oldest two grandsons are now adults with their own vehicles and the payments that come with them. The youngest three will be there soon enough. In the meantime, they drive mountain bikes and their parents crazy. As the deadline for submitting a story approached, I couldn't help but think of this "true" holiday memory that many of you may relate to.

It was Christmas Eve 1994. I was in the dining room helping my wife with some last-minute wrapping when the phone rang. When you have teenage boys, you cringe at the sound of a ringing telephone …or sirens. Your senses are tuned to problems with boys anyway, but when they have their own cars and a license to drive them, you're more skittish than a bachelor at his twin sister's wedding.

“Dad, the Bonny (1981 Pontiac Bonneville) broke down."

"Whew! Is that all?"

If you have a teenager whose car costs less than a new sofa, you will surely hear, "My car broke down,” at least once a week.

I remember the night as miserable: cold, wet, and pitch-black. One of those nights where the dampness soaks into your skin and makes your teeth chatter. A night you'd pay good money for to sprawl out on the couch with an out-of-order phone, a mug of hot something, and one of mom's old afghans. This was not the "Night Before Christmas" story I had in mind. If you have more than two cars in your driveway, and the driver of one only works part-time making pizza, you cannot afford tow trucks and repairs. So, in the best father-of-a-teen voice I could muster, I replied, "Sit still, I'll be right there. We'll tow it home."

Well, Operation Redneck Towing was going to be a blast. He wasn't around the corner at his friend's house. No, he was fifteen miles away in a mall parking lot, one county north. Saddle up, Duke. This was going to be a ride. I had recently purchased a redneck necessity: a tow strap. It was a thick yellow beauty with heavy clasps on each end, and it was about 18 feet long. That may sound like a lot, but it is half as long as you would like it to be.

Towing a car with a strap, rope, or chain is an art. It is not for the squeamish. In fact, with the cars today, it is almost impossible. Locking steering wheels and brake systems have made the days of Redneck Towing nearly extinct. It is also very, very dangerous, but it was Christmas Eve, and I had two teenage boys eating from our refrigerator. We could not afford AAA.  The repair would probably take us into the New Year anyway. We would have to risk life and limb.

It was the only choice we had.

I wasn't a totally irresponsible parent; I would drive the car being towed. It was the responsible thing to do. Towing vehicles with an eighteen-foot strap requires precision teamwork. The tow'er and the tow'ee must work in perfect harmony, or bumpers will be bumped. The main requirement is to keep the strap, rope, or chain taught. If you want a NASCAR experience, have someone tow you at 45 miles per hour. You will have more respect for the Earnhardts of the world.

The biggest problem on this night was the weather. It was snowing… that wet, sloppy snow that isn't really snow, it's simply rain with texture. Additionally, since the car wouldn't run, I had no wipers …or lights. So picture this circus act. I am in a vehicle being towed by my teenage son, traveling at 45 mph, with twelve feet between us, zero visibility, and zero brain matter, belting out Christmas songs for fifteen miles to drown out my fear. It is by far my most memorable Christmas Eve. It gives me nightmares and nostalgic-fuzzies all at the same time. Ironically, we arrived home just in time to watch "It's A Wonderful Life"

Happy Holidays, everyone. May your teens be grown and your AAA Membership be current.