Chapter 2

"IMPOSSIBLE!" exclaimed the man from the local Department of Natural Resources branch office.

"Completely Irresponsible!" said the County Extension Agent. "There hasn't been a sturgeon in the upper lakes in sixty years."

"Absolutely Not," huffed the professor, "You faked those photos, I don't know how you did it ... but you did it!"

"That's a Siberian Beluga Sturgeon!" said the KGB spy from the Embassy.

"Whoa! I like how you got pictures of the boat and the girl. Nothing like some skin to distract the eye. Who is she?" asked the man from Sports Afield.

Yes ... nothing like a little skin ... although, in Andie's case ... there was a lot of skin ... for a fifteen year old girl from Michigan with Austrian antecedents.

"It would have been nice to have the whole fish," said the man from the Guinness Book of Records. "Without the fish all you have are some interesting photos. If nothing else you have a picture to hang in your hall."

"35 millimeter? What brand camera?" asked the man who developed the film.

So far, the sturgeon photos were batting zero. Not that Andrea cared. She had the fish story to top all fish stories ... and pictures ... even if she didn't have the fish.

She had a very nice watch ... it was a little clunky ... and not very feminine (which was perfectly ok by Andie.) It kept good time and she was never late for school or appointments. There seemed to be some internal workings that wound the watch because she never had to. And she turned sixteen.

Sports Afield called about a Swimsuit Edition ... she turned them down ... maybe in two years ... when she was eighteen ... CLICK! "Hello?"

Hmmm? Bored ... Lessee if I can test out of a few more classes ... and a few more classes ... and ... well, how about that. I have to come back for graduation ... I think I'll go to U of M and see if I can start classes.

Some few years ago, before she found out she wasn't a boy, Daddy bought her a total wreck.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Fix it. It's your graduation present."

What kind of a dad gives his daughter a 1934 Ford two door sedan? The good kind of dad. So along with her rendezvous regalia, her track and field and running cross country ten miles every morning, and keeping her grades in that magic 4.0 ... she wrenched ... and took pictures.

The first time she mailed a set of pictures to Hot Rod magazine, they printed them. Sure, it was in the 'Wishful Thinking' column, but they printed them The text she included explained how she got the car and what her dad expected her to do.

The next set of pictures were published under her own byline. 'Bloody Knuckles.' The first bit of text read, "Daddy bought me some tools." The picture was a double rollaway SnapOn chest ... with six inches of snow on top. Andy's feet were sticking out from under the car. (Picture by Daddy.)

The second picture was a twenty-four by twenty-four garage with big red bow on the door. The text? "Daddy built me a place to work."

The third picture was Kroil, a propane torch, a nut breaker and a hacksaw. This text read, "Rusty bolts?"

The forth photo was one of the entire car laid out in pieces on the garage floor. "Success!"

People were starting to write and ask questions. One reader wrote, "I found a 1923 T model in the desert. The cab is in reasonable condition. What do you suggest I do to move it?"

"If you just pick it up it will fold in the middle and you'll have a lot of work straightening it. I'll send you the dimensions for a one inch steel tubing frame that will bolt directly to existing holes in the body work. The frame will keep the body straight. Keep me informed, Andy."

Month after month, she sent in articles about how she did this and fixed that. Every job that took a special tool had a picture of the tool and where to buy it. When she ran into difficulty she asked how people had fixed a similiar problem ... the mag printed the responses and what Andy had done to solve her problem.

Chapter 3 »