The Disappearance of the “Shade Tree Mechanic”

When I was growing up, I learned of a special breed known as “shade tree mechanics.” These men and women (mostly men) were endowed by their creator with exceptional mechanical skills which they applied in their back yard, side yard, and, sometimes, in their front yard. They were called “shade tree” because their work usually found them laboring under the shade of a tree. Often times that tree became useful in the mechanics works. A low hanging limb was used to support a “chain fall” in the pulling of a car engine. “Chain fall” is old school for a chain hoist or even a “come-a-long.”

Of course, back in the day, motor vehicles and, especially, engines, were much less complicated.

My late father once told me, that in the days of T-model Fords, you only needed 3 things to keep a vehicle going – a box of tire patches, a tire pump, and some baling wire.

Shade tree mechanics did most of their work in their spare time. Many worked at a “regular job” and freelanced at home. They were known for helping a neighbor, sometimes working into the night and on Saturdays to finish a project. Most were invaluable resources on “how to” uncomplicate engine issues that had another mechanic or neighbor “stumped.”

Many perfected their skills by learning from a father, grandfather, or uncle.

But alas, the motor vehicle landscape has shifted … radically. The computer has changed everything. Now we have vehicles without ignition keys. Compress the brake, push a bottom, start the car. What happens if the car doesn’t start? Have it towed. A trained technician will hook it up to a computer and the computer will tell him what is wrong. You pay the bill.

I recently spoke with a manager in need of hiring young men and women to work outside. Part of the job involved truck driving.

“I can’t find one who can drive a “straight shift,” he said.  “What is the world coming to?”

A skill set is being left behind. I well remember the first time my father put me behind the wheel of a pickup truck to drive in a hay field. I looked down at the floorboard and saw three (3) pedals only to realize I had but two (2) feet. I was ok until the first time I had to stop on the side of a hill.

I have made a vow I will teach my granddaughters and grandsons how to drive a straight shift. You never know when necessity will demand a skill.

When our sons were growing up, one listed the qualities he looked for in a young lady in whom he might be interested. He specified three things.

1)     Be able to “pull” a calf.

2)     Be able to field dress a deer.

3)     Be able to change a tire.

I would have added to that list – able to drive a straight shift.

Many years ago, my father had the opportunity to purchase an “irrigation outfit” in a distant part of the state. It included over 5000 feet of aluminum irrigation pipe and a six-inch pump driven by a “straight-8” cylinder Chrysler engine. The problem was the engine had not been started in over two years and the starter was missing. My father was undaunted. It was the “shade  tree” in him.

Today those shade tree mechanics are hard to find. If you happen upon a good, older vehicle worth saving, best you track down a mechanic of the “shade tree” variety. It will be well worth your time.

Copyright 2024 by Jack McCall