Text Version of Audio Story: King CharlieAudio version may be downloaded at www.TheAmericanStoryteller.com

It’s a trip I make on a regular basis – once a week or three times a month – out across the northern tier of my home state of Pennsylvania, on Route 80 out to the Po-cono Mountains, two hours and thirty-five minutes. But then I got to thinking, I could cut the time back if I drove like Charlie taught me to drive.

He was an old man who lived right down the road from me in McAlisterville. “Let’s go to town,” Charlie would say. And we’d hop in his big, long-connected red Cadillac El Do-rado. Charlie would let me drive, even though I wasn’t old enough to drive. He’d sit there in the passenger seat, smoking a big, fine Cuban cigar and expounding on the finer point of making good time on the highway, “Be aware of who’s in front of ya, who’s behind ya. Know when to pass. Coast into the stop sign, pumping your brakes ever so slightly.”

Charlie was a master behind the wheel. He was the king of the road in his big Cadillac. He owned a business there in our little village. Charlie held the patent for the candle that never burned down. He ran the business from his basement, shipping candles all over the world. He supplied the White House, the Kremlin, the Washington Cathedral, mansions, churches and lavish hotels, making millions in the process – all from the basement of his stately brick home.

Charlie’s wife was a frail, thin woman, a nice lady who suffered from hypochondria –fainting spells and heart palpitations, headaches and joint pain, breathing problems, dizziness… oh, the constant dizziness. And then one night, the dizziness was worse than ever. Charlie called the local volunteer ambulance, and in no time, throngs of peo-ple arrived. The volunteers bust through the door, up the steps and down the steps. There were people in every room of the home. They were on the front porch, in the front yard, in the backyard. The driveway was parked full.

©Copyright 2007 Nelson Lauver. May not be reprinted, reproduced or published without permission.

Text Version of Audio Story: King Charlie—page 2Audio version may be downloaded at www.TheAmericanStoryteller.com

Charlie, such a private, dignified man who kept most people at arms length, now found himself surrounded by the utter chaos that can only happen in a small town of eight hundred people when the volunteer ambulance and fire company whistle blows. His mysterious home that had been his private sanctuary for decades was now bursting at the seams with dozens and dozens of well-intentioned folk who regularly followed the sound of the fire whistle. It was more excitement than Charlie could stand.

As the volunteers were attending to the missus and her dizziness, Charlie quietly sat at the dining room table having a massive heart attack that would end his life. The missus would be checked out at the hospital. The doctor said he could find nothing wrong with her. She lived to be an old, old lady.

So I decided on my last trip out across the northern tier, I’d drive like Charlie taught me to.

“Be aware of who’s in front of ya Nelson. Be aware of who’s behind ya. Stay out of the packs of traffic. Fill up before ya leave. Take a thermos of coffee. Set the cruise control where you want it and try like everything to avoid situations that would force ya to knock the cruise control off.”

Instead of two hours and thirty-five minutes, I did it in two hours and six minutes. I sat there behind the wheel. I could almost hear his voice, and I could almost smell the ci-gar of the king of the road.

I’m the American Storyteller.

©Copyright 2007 Nelson Lauver. May not be reprinted, reproduced or published without permission.