Barry---
Here's a story of my own about HP. It was in the late '70s. I was selling houses in the metro area. I showed a house in HP and started west on McNichols toward my office in Southfield. I stopped at a party store for a Coke. Off-street parking next so I pulled back to the sidewalk and looked both ways. I was driving a '75 Mk IV and it was a warm enough day that I had the windows down to help the AC blow the hot air out of the car.
I looked both ways and the only car in the street was momentarily visible between those parked along the curb. I turned West from the North-side parking lot. As I got far enough into the street, making the turn, I realized that the car I'd glimpsed was going about 80 MPH. The speed limit is probably 35 in that area. The car laid on the brakes and took all of the lanes, swerving, before he managed to slow down.
I went on West with the contents of the car, all members of the majority society, in their late 'teens-early 20s, making loud angry comments.
Several blocks along there is an intersection with a left turn lane, and when I stopped at the red light, the following car pulled up VERY close on my left. Our rear view mirrors were almost touching. The guy in the shotgun position leaned out so far he actually had his head inside my window. He was waving a blade and struggling to get himself into position to make use of it. What I could understand of his dialect was a statement of what he wanted to do with the knife he was waving.
At that time I had a 'Little Friend', a 1911 Commander that had been somewhat altered. It went with me everywhere. One of the modifications was that I had had a National Match barrel installed and the extra 3/4" of barrel stuck out the front of the slide. I had that extended barrel Magna-Ported. I carry in an inside-the-waistband holster just behind my left hip---I'm left handed.
I pulled it out and jammed it into his face. I'd be happy to say I planned it, but purely by happenstance, that extra 3/4 inch of barrel went up his nose and slammed his head into the top of the window frame. It knocked his backwards hat off and he dropped the knife.
The driver turned left against the light and disappeared down the intersecting street. I got a kleenex and wiped the end of the barrel. I somehow refrained from wetting my pants. The cap and the knife remained in the street as I proceeded on west. I don't remember showing any more houses that day.
Life in 'The D'
KS
