[HIGHWAY BY THE SEA]

Here is MY breakdown story:
Back in 1992 I owned a very–used(up) 1979 Buick Regal coupe. A few weeks after I bought it, I decided to drive myself and a friend to the Anderson Jockey Lot Flea Market, which has the self-proclaimed title of “The Largest Flea Market in the World”. I had noticed that the “Alt” light stayed on all the time, but since my step-mother had a 1980 Buick that had the exact same problem, I chalked this up to a manufacturer’s defect.
We set out, and after an almost two-hour drive, it started raining. I turned on the wipers, and after a few minutes the wipers acted as if they were struggling to move, then they eventually stopped. And that was not the ONLY thing that stopped. Shortly thereafter the Buick died right there on the highway. We managed to coast off of the road, and popped the hood. A Good Samaritan stopped, gave us a jump, and we were on our way again.
We did not even make it five miles, and the Buick died again. We coasted it onto the side of the road directly in front of this house that had lots of livestock in the yard (mostly poultry). The rain had stopped, and we were only several miles from the Jockey Lot, so we walked there all the while concocting a plan to get the Buick running again.
My friend was more mechanically inclined than I, and he diagnosed the problem as the alternator. So our plan was simple: We get to the Jockey Lot, find and buy an alternator, tools, then get back to the Buick, and install it. We arrived there, and then began the hunt for an alternator.
The Jockey Lot is indeed large, as it has hundreds upon hundreds of selling booths, so we figured that SOMEONE had to have the part we needed. We found some used tools (channel locks, socket wrench, two sockets, and a screwdriver) bought these, and continued searching. We walked for a long time, but in that whole huge place we did not see anything that even resembled an alternator on any of the tables.
As we passed this one particular table, I noticed several Dungeon and Dragons lead figurines on it. I decided to stop looking for the part for just a minute, and began looking at the collectable figurines. The seller asked me if I wanted to buy the figurines, and I replied that they were nice, but they were not what I was really looking to buy. He asked me what I was looking for, and I replied, “An alternator for a 1979 Buick regal with a six-cylinder engine.”
He then spoke words that were the absolute LAST ones I was expecting to hear. He said, “I have one”. He then turned and opened the door of his van that was parked directly behind him, rummaged around for a few seconds, then approached the table with the EXACT alternator that we needed! My jaw DROPPED, as did my friend’s. He told me that he had bought it for his van, but it drew too much power. Knowing that I only had about $5 in my pocket, I asked him how much it cost. Imagine my surprise when he said five dollars! Not only that, but he gave me a written receipt and guaranteed that it would work.
Feeling like the two luckiest people in the world, we bought the alternator, and tried to come up with a plan to get back to the car. We were quite tired from the hike from the car, then searching the vast flea market. We happened to run into an Anderson County deputy sheriff who gave us a ride back to the Buick, and we set to working on it. We managed to get everything loose, and removed the alternator.
About this time a huge flock of geese left the aforementioned house that we were broken-down in front of, surrounded us, and began honking at us so LOUDLY that we had to shout to communicate with each other.
I then discovered that we were lacking the correct-size socket that we needed to install the new alternator, so we tried to figure out how to get one. About this time the owner of the house walked out to see who was marauding his loud geese, and fussed at us for terrorizing them. I explained to him (very loudly) what we were doing, assured him that we meant his flock of geese no harm, and asked to borrow a particular sized socket so that we could fix the Buick, and be on our way.
He very grudgingly and griping went into his house, returned, and handed us the socket we had asked for. After he left, his loud geese followed him back to the house, making the whole area quiet and peaceful again. Well, we tried the socket that he had loaned us, and what do you know? It did NOT quite fit! After all of this, we were no better off that we were before.
We tried to use the channel locks as a substitute, but the bolt that held it together was loose, and it would not grip anything correctly due to the looseness. Knowing that the “Goose Grouch” would likely not help us with anything else, we tried to figure out what to do next. It was then that I noticed that the socket that he had loaned us was the EXACT size as the nut and bolt on the channel locks! I used the borrowed socket, and tightened the channel locks, successfully fixing them!
We used the fixed channel locks as a socket substitute to correctly secure and install the new alternator. We returned the socket to the “Goose Grouch” and both got into the Buick. I inserted the key, and turned it. ***CLICK*** Uh oh! No other sound! I tried it a second time, and the Buick fired to life! The ALT light went off for the very first time since I had owned this car, and we drove the two hours home without any further snafus.
This is an unbelievable story I know, but it really happened! What are the odds that out of the hundreds and hundreds of tables at that flea market, we stopped at EXACTLY the one that had a (hidden) alternator that was exactly the one we needed? If not for those figurines that caught my interest I would NEVER have spoken to the seller about any car parts since he had none on his table. Also, what are the odds that the “Goose Grouch” loaned us the wrong sized socket for the alternator, but it was the right sized one to fix the loose channel locks, which allowed us to fix the Buick and be on our way?
We talked about this one for years, but since we are no longer friends, I have not spoken of this in some time.