My brother David, age seven, and I, age eight, were figuring ways of getting more money so we could keep up with the status quo in baseball cards. We had noticed that Cub Scouts raised money by collecting pop bottles. In our enthusiasm, we reasoned that newspapers were more plentiful than bottles and would net us a higher return.

As we began to canvass the neighborhood for papers, the response was astounding. People were overjoyed to contribute to our cause. At some houses we were given so many newspapers that we had to empty our wagons in the garage before we could go to the next house. The papers piled up like so many stacks of cash.

After a full morning, we had enough newspapers to cover half the floor space of the garage to a height of three feet. We didn't want to be greedy, so we quickly found other things to do, waiting for Dad to come home to help us exchange the newspapers for hard cash.

And sure enough, Dad came home.

The fun began when he bashed the Pontiac into Mount Gazette, ...