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To: abcdunlimited@hotmail.com, ijoss@larkom.net, BGoldstein@aol.com,
    howglad1@juno.com, friedmsa@UCBEH.SAN.UC.EDU
Cc: lance2@juno.com, schaf25440@aol.com, wallace171@aol.com,
    friedmsa@UCBEH.SAN.UC.EDU, RCA001@juno.com
Subject: StutzDV32
From: lance2@juno.com (Lance Martin)    
Date: Sun, 25 Jan 1998 12:08:22 EST

		Dormant Power


	The DV32 Stutz was an apt and unique automobile, with a penchant
to run but reluctant to idle at low speed in traffic. A stock Stutz,
taken from a showroom, had been entered in, and won, the internationally
famous Le Mans race.  The Stutz slogan flaunted, "When you pass a Stutz
on the road, you pass with the drivers permission only,"   Almost daily,
with the change of humidity or barometric pressure, I would have to
readjust the micrometer settings of the multiple jets on the dual
Winfield carburetors, in order to obtain maximum performance from the
high-strung, powerful, engine.  The two door, custom sedan, disguised its
powerful potential.

	Early one Sunday morning, I was on my way to visit Edythe, when I
was aware of a Studebaker convertible,.  The top was down showing three
boys in the front, and two in the rumble seat.  They were passing and
drinking from a liquor flask, boisterous and dangerous.  I was irritated
when the driver would pass close to parked cars and one of the occupants
would smash the cars side mirrors, or at times the windows.  An old man,
carrying a newspaper, was crossing the street when the Studebaker with
blaring horn veered toward him.  Startled, the old man, clutched his
paper and quickened his steps  to get on the sidewalk.  He tripped at the
curb, fell and the paper went flying.  The revelers waved and laughed as
they passed him while he was getting up.  Further on,  a dog was crossing
the road, and the driver delicately swerved to run over the dog.  Their
laughter could be heard above the final yelp of the dog.  I was angered
as I approached the dog.  I could not help.  A few convulsive shudders
and the broken, bloody body lay still. 

	There were very few vehicles on the road.  But the Studebaker
would dart toward the few oncoming cars, forcing them to swerve.  They
would crowd and force cars to the curb as they passed them.  The driver
spotted me behind him, and slowed his erratic pace. I did not want any
damage to the Stutz, or a confrontation with them.  I quickly and
unexpectedly, swerved into the opposite lane, and passed them.  They
raced after me, and I blocked their moves to pass..  I slowed at a
corner, and as they almost plowed into me, I made a rapid right turn and
sped away as the Studebaker, with brakes squealing, passed the corner. 
Explosive anger flooded me, I circled the block and followed far behind
them.  

	Some trucks, carrying cargo to shipyards in preparation for
Monday departures, were turning onto Atlantic Avenue as the traffic light
turned red at Fourth Avenues.  The Studebaker stopped and I came up
behind it.  I timed and judged the distance of a lumbering, chain driven,
Mack truck approaching the intersection, then I put the Stutz into low
gear and pushed the Studebaker.   The startled driver, with his foot on
the brakes, glanced in surprise at me.  The Studebaker’s brakes were no
match for the awesome power of the Stutz.  The Mack truck hit and
crumbled the front of the Studebaker, as I made a quick turn and sped
away.