Last week, my brother broke down on Interstate 95. Lucky for him, he was close to the Saco exit and to our home in Kennebunk. He’s since been staying with us while his truck transmission is getting fixed. This episode and the fact that winter’s almost here motivated me to write a short tribute to auto mechanics.

When I was a little kid in Down East Maine, my dad used to take me along when he went to the local garage to get his car repaired. He stood around talking to the mechanics while I smelled the grease and played on the dirty cement floor. Noise from car engines and tire changes didn’t bother me.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Linda S. Lucas is a resident of Kennebunk.

The most exciting part was seeing the masked man with a blowtorch welding metal pieces together. Sparks flew off the metal into the air – a mini fireworks display in the dingy garage.

“Don’t look at that or you’ll go blind,” my dad would yell.

Later on my dad bought an old, dilapidated Model A. He wanted something to tinker with and learn on. If he hadn’t pursued a medical career, he might well have become an auto mechanic. It wasn’t unusual to see him with my two brothers in the yard peering under the hood of that old car – studying the mysteries there. An elaborate layout of Snap-On tools would be at their disposal because my dad loved tools and bought new ones every time the Snap-On truck stopped by.

As a young teacher, I taught technical writing at a vocational school and discovered the true nature of folks who choose to fix cars for a living. Some of them were older and had a little experience in automotives. One was a young woman who had always wanted to go into that field.

My students wrote diligently about how to fix a carburetor and change tires, spark plugs and distributor caps. And I remember how they loved to talk on any subject, holding forth on the politics of the day, religion, family problems. They especially liked to joke about customers who thought they knew something about cars. I remember thinking that we need auto mechanics more than they need us.

For 30 years or so, I’ve been taking my cars to a locally owned garage. The mechanics there can fix any car or truck on the road, from Fords to Saabs. While I wait, I can sometimes seek out their advice on such things as the best schools for my kids, first-time homebuying, raising teenagers. They always have strong opinions to share. Their pragmatic philosophy of life amazes me, and I often take their advice.

My mechanics have also raised money for abused women by donating to Caring Unlimited. They give generously to underprivileged kids. I have no doubts that they fix cars at no charge for people who can’t afford to pay for repairs.

Trust my mechanic? You bet I do.

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