The year is 1967, and I have just taken my first antique, a '26 Model T Tudor to Stillwater OK for our sophomore year at Oklahoma State University.
I have spent two years on this project, taking a rust-bucket $200 salvage yard purchase to essentially a full-restoration. The car is logged-in at OSU to carry the football team pom-pon girls in the fall Homecoming parade.
Some of the guys in my dorm think we should go down to the local thrift store, purchase some zuit-suits, dress-up like 30's-era gangsters, buy some plastic machine gun-style water pistols, and go out, shoot pictures of us all gathered up around the car situated on a conspicuous railroad trestle bridge north of Stillwater.
Same we do on a cold, cloudy October Saturday afternoon. Driving any car, even a Model T Ford, over railroad ties out to the center of a trestle bridge is a deliberate and time consuming effort. We are situated dead-center out on this bridge, with a photographer down in the ravine shooting pictures of us up at elevation, when the down-track spotter shouts up the way, "TRAIN COMING!!!:"
I desperately yell at one of the guys to give me a crank, and proceed to likely set a land speed record humping the Model T forward and off of the tracks.
After we have gotten past the bridge and off the track--and not seeing a train at all--some questions are forthcoming for the spotter. He replies "it was just a practical joke, but you guys were making so much racket afterwards shouting and cursing that you couldn't hear me calling off the dogs."
The spotter got his head plunged in a restroom commode, once we were back to the dorm.
(p: as a testament to Henry Ford's Vanadium Steel axles and chassis', notably none of the up-down, start-stop bucking over railroad ties broke or disabled anything on the auto!)