This is the story about a toy. Today every toy is manufactured the same way it seems. A design is agreed upon, it is then passed on to a committee, it is voted upon and the idea is then designated a name. The name is appointed to a group. The group’s decision is then voted upon and then a board of directors vote and either approve the idea, decides to study the idea further, passes it on to another group, or kills the idea altogether. Once approved, the idea is passed on to the manufacturing process where a computer program is set forth and then the toy is assembled by somebody pushing buttons. However- On the day after Thanksgiving, in 1946, a toy car was born. Back in 1946, toys were assembled mostly by hand. By workers hoping to pass a good product into the hands of another person. Sebastian rolled off of the assembly line surrounded by others who had just been built. Mostly, the other toys were powered by a real engine. Real racers headed for the hands of older kids and young adults who would race the cars at parks or other such venues. Sebastian was a push car. He had no engine but looked the part. Bright red paint, a cast side pipe, and a hand brake were attached to his flanks. Up front a cast aluminum grille and on his blazing red paint job, a gold #2. He rolled on aluminum wheels with real rubber ribbed front tires and knobby style dirt track rear tires. Sebastian was assembled to look like a real Kurtis Kraft Midget racer. See, way back when, sprint cars and midget racers were all the rage. They were the stepping stone to Indy where the big names played and raced for large sums of cash. These little race cars were embraced by the low buck masses who could not afford to race in the big leagues November 28, 1946 The toys were all very excited. It was the season they had been told that soon they would be in the hands of real humans who would play with them and love them. The toys were gathered up and packed up into boxes and shipped from Santa Ana, California, to the far corners of America. Sebastian ended up in a place called Denver, Colorado. His shipping box was jostled about and then suddenly filled with light as the shipping box was broke open. He and four other racers were pulled out of boxes, quickly polished, and set out in the store’s front window. Sebastian was beside the other Thimbledromes which all had motors. They were on a shelf that overlooked an American Flyer train set that would chug its way through a tunnel and then come out of a far wall as a whistle sounded. There were other things which surrounded him that he did not have a clue what they were. Outside the big area in front of him, he could see things happening that he had no idea what they were. The outside, which had a steady flow of things going back and fourth, slowed down and finally stopped as it became dark and something was falling from the sky. A big voice was heard behind him. “Hello new toys and welcome. I am Grandfather Time, and you are in the front window of Daniels and Fisher’s Department Store. The other things around you are other toys. The fellow below us is Hermy. He is an American Flyer train; the best on the market!“ With that the train blew two short blasts from his whistle. “We have Shirley Temple dolls and Charlie McCarthy dolls here as well,” said the old clock. “Above us is a pair of airplane toys and a spaceship toy.” The grand old clock paused. All of the toys were hanging on his every word. “You are to go and be adopted by a child or a human. This is a toy’s purpose. To make those who own you happy. The things you see walk past the front window, the big thing separating us from the world outside, are humans. You will never fully live until you find a home.” Sebastian let the words of the old clock sink in and let it imprint itself on his memory. “Home,” he thought. “That is what I want to find.” He watched outside the window and waited for the darkness to subside and light to return. So the night gave way to day, and the people began to stroll past the window. Some were in a hurry, and the smaller ones would stop and fog the glass, staring and pointing at different toys. Each had a wish and would focus on the toy that caught their fancy. And, it all began to happen as the clock said it would. The toys were picked up by humans and either returned or disappeared altogether. The other toys were being sold off, and others were placed in their spots in the front window. Sebastian did his best to earn the respect of the little humans, hoping to get a home. He made sure he was in the best lighting (only when he could, which was after hours when know one was around) to show off his bright red paint. But still he sat as his siblings were purchased, leaving him alone. The pace of humans out front grew to a maddening pace and then slowed. There was a sound in the air the day no humans came to the store. Great bells were sounding outside and a distant sound of singing. The grandfather clock told him that maybe it was not his season; maybe next year. Sebastian did not understand and still tried to look his best for the humans that may happen to walk by. Then it happened. He was picked up, and he was grateful. Could a home be in his future? Was this his day to revel in? But it was just a store employee moving him from the front window to make room for a winter apparel display. Sebastian was placed in a box with decorations and moved to the back of the department store and put into storage. It must have been the wrong box, for the darkness for the little red racer seemed to last a long time. What had actually happened was the box that Sebastian had been put into had been inadvertently placed on a cart for store records and that box had been rolled into long term storage. Daniels and Fisher merged with the May company and the big building in which Sebastian had first discovered the outside world was closed and set for demolition. Workers were assigned to go through the store and salvage any merchandise that could in return turn a profit. Some remaining toys were donated to a local hospital. A last minute opening of an old box discovered Sebastian. He looked like new and the worker who found him smiled. His first thought was to pack the racer into his back pack and take the old relic home, but he decided to send it off to the hospital. The racer was put into a box and was jostled about while he rolled across town to Mercy Hospital. This was to be his new home. The box was opened and Sebastian was placed upon the floor and rolled across a floor. What a feeling! He felt like screaming with joy as his wheels created a unique whirring noise on the hard waxed linoleum floor. Sebastian felt the still air turn to wind as his speed picked up. Then, as quickly as it had been, there it was gone. He wanted to feel that again! Free and fast he felt! But, the worker picked him up and placed him into a box in which other toys had been placed. Sebastian waited and then saw the blazing light pierce the darkness as the lid of the box was opened. He was lifted out and placed on the floor. The hand gripping him felt different than that of the adult. It was smaller and seemed filled with care. A Child held the racer up and made some inaudible noises-bbbbbbbbbbbbb-and raced him across the floor. Again, that feeling of bliss washed over him. Sebastian felt like this was his home now. He was going to be loved and things would be good from now on. Many different children played with him. He lost his side pipe with an incident involving a chair leg, but no matter. He loved his new life. His paint was chipped in places, and he thought nothing of it. One day a new boy arrived. He could barely make the noises the other kids made but really attached himself to the car. In fact, this child was able to take the car to his room when it was deemed rest time for him. One day a larger pair of humans came to visit the boy. Sebastian heard the larger say to the little boy, “Son what do you have there? WOW!“ Sebastian was lifted out of the child’s hands and the adult looked at the little red racer carefully. “Now that is a really neat toy! Man, I have not seen one of these since I was a kid!!” The adult smiled as he held the racer and then returned it to his son’s hands. Sebastian felt special. Was this what it felt like to be loved? The boy was gentle with the racer and seldom let it fly across the room. He and his Dad would play with Sebastian, rolling him back and forth, always careful not to bounce him off the furniture. Then, as things seemed normal, the boy went away. He was better, and it was his time to go home. He cried for the red racer. “I want to take it home!” He cried, but Mother gently explained how other kids needed special toys to play with; hat the little racer was a great toy and would be best left here in the hospital where other kids could enjoy it. The little boy subdued his crying, but claimed he would never forget the race car. Never. Sebastian remained in the hospital play room again experiencing, the hands of new kids and adult alike. He would love it when a new kid would pick him up and cart him off to their room; a temporary home away from the other toys. As time slipped by, the other toys came and went more frequently. Most were more pliable than he. “Plastic” is what one toy Mustang claimed he was made of. Sebastian wondered where the other toys like him were. It had been a long time since he had seen another racer like himself. Were they happy in their homes? He wondered this one day as a concerned mother lifted Sebastian and took him to a nurse. “Excuse me, just how is it that this dangerous toy is amongst our poor sick children?” The nurse gave the concerned mother a blank look. “Let me explain, this toy is made of metal!” Another blank stare. “Our children could be hurt on this toy! Does the term ‘LAWSUIT’ mean anything to you?” This the nurse understood and took the racer from the concerned mother. That night a couple of workers rounded up any toys that could be considered dangerous and placed them into a box. Then the top was closed. Sebastian’s world was in darkness again. The darkness was long lasting this time. Sebastian did not know if he were actually still together or actually disposed of. What if this was his end? He had heard about The End one night while in the department store window. The grandfather clock had been answering questions from the toys when a Raggedy Ann Doll asked, ”Grandfather, is there an end?” A strange quiet fell around the room. The wind howled outside and a swirling of snow flashed by the window. Grandfather sighed. This question he had answered so many times and each time it was never easier. He spoke. ”Yes. Yes, there is. Some toys will be loved so much they have but no chance of survival. Be it a doll losing her stuffing or a train’s motor failing to pull a load, the end for toys is sometimes inevitable. Many here will meet an end; cast off to the side and forgotten. This is not the time for you to know of the end. Revel in life and enjoy what is ahead of you.” Sebastian had taken these words to heart and feared the end. He wished for so much more but began to think about his existence. The department store window, the smiles of children looking at him through the glass. The hospital years and especially the little boy who wanted to take him home. Home. A word that was larger than life itself. Sebastian wished for a home. That was what he had always wanted. So, he rested in the dark. He and a collection of other toys deemed dangerous for sick or recovering children in a hospital play room. And, as before, the box was jostled one day and was suddenly being transferred across town. A Tonka dune buggy next to him screamed in the dark, “It’s the end! I know it!” Sebastian was startled to hear this. The other toys remained silent; each awaiting their own fate quietly, remembering happy days outside of the lonely box. Then, as before, the box was opened. Sebastian was removed from the box and, though it was an adult who carried him, he was handled with the greatest of ease. The adult paused at a big workbench and proceeded to clean the old racer. He used a tooth brush and wax to bring the shine back to the red paint. Carefully, he polished the aluminum parts and used some cleaner on the red racer’s tires. The adult gave Sebastian a final polish and gently set him on a very old wooden floor and gave the racer a push. Sebastian’s old wheels carried him a short distance and he stopped. Frowning, the adult lifted the racer and sprayed something on the axles. Again, he set the racer down and gave a push. Sebastian felt the still air turn to wind as he sailed across the floor. The adult gave a great whoop and chased after the little red racer. Sebastian felt like he may have a second chance; a chance to find a home after all. The adult picked up the racer and placed Sebastian in a small wooden case. He was next to an old baseball card (Joe DiMaggio, 1953), a set of Aviator glasses with the case, and a Buddy L. Corvair pickup truck. Across from him, on the other side of the room, was a big old grandfather clock. Sebastian wondered if it was the same one from the department store but knew better because this one was still and the pendulum was not swinging. After dark, the conversations were exchanged and everyone spoke of their value and where they were from. Sebastian only knew the plant where he was made, the department store, and the hospital. The term “value” meant nothing for him. A doll stood up and exclaimed how she was a first edition Barbie and had all of her accessories. She told the room she was very valuable and that she was most likely to go for a huge amount. A stuffed bear told the room he was a very rare Beanie and that being handed out at the All Stars game made him worth thousands. The whole night went like this. Sebastian finally asked if anyone was just interested in finding a home. The room erupted in laughter. The red racer thought about this ‘til dawn. He did not want to know his value; just to find a home. The next day, the store opened with a flurry of business. There was a flood of people coming in and out. The faces were of older people and a few children, but none stopped to stare longingly at the toys. A woman stopped in front of the racer‘s display case and soon was holding Sebastian. She carried him to the front, and Sebastian sighed as he was put into a box again. But he had his hopes this time. The woman had spoken excitedly about how her husband had played with a car like this as a child and had been searching for one since. Maybe, hoped Sebastian, just maybe he would find a home this year. He sat in the darkness and waited. And waited. Until that fateful day when he was passed around and placed next to some other boxes. He heard the muffled voices of people tearing paper and opening boxes. He hoped he would be opened and not set to the side like the other times in his past. And he was opened and the eyes looking at him were much older, but familiar. The face was the same save for the years that had ticked by. The man smiled the same smile as the boy who had played with his so many years earlier. It was Christmas 1996, 50 years of waiting, but, finally, Sebastian the red racer had found a home. ©2003 Mark Karol-Chik
Anf for the night folks- I may not get on here as often as I have say, 15 years ago, but still know this is the best webpage out there. Merry Christmas to everyone-
Wow... I hadn't been around for a while. I never saw this. Spooky...may I ask...is this a true story...about you? And/or did you write it? Regardless...I love a good, heartfelt story. And this is definitely one. I enjoyed it very much. How nice. Dammit...actually brought a tear...lol. I saw it coming too...lol. Suspected as much, but right at "...the eyes were older now, but familiar.", I suddenly needed a tissue. Fuck...lol. Thank you. A very heartfelt and Merry Christmas to you, Spooky... AND EVERYONE !!!
Well, it is based upon when I found that very Thimbledrome in my story. Again. But Iwas in an antique store and some gal removed it across the store from me and I knew it was the same toy I played with way back when.
Fun to read and it immediately brought back memories of two rolling toys my mother bought for me in the mid '50s, a red plastic Stanley Steamer that I bet didn't cost more than 15 cents at the time, and a small red logging truck. That was a pity purchase to pick up my spirits after my grandmother went into a hospital. I loved both of those. Thanks for helping bring back a couple of memories.
The Jalopy Journal
