Eddie Lowe
Just A Thought
As you follow Highway 268, you come to the town of Elkin. Many of the same buildings still stand. The main one that comes to mind is the blanket factory. This massive building’s parking lot borders one of the most memorable strips of asphalt everyone in the 80s called “the strip.”
Even today, as I pass through that area, my mind drifts back to summertime in the late 80s. Anyone from Surry County who was raised in the 80s probably “cruised” that stretch of road late into the hot June nights. There were other places, such as Galax, Stratford Road in Winston, or even 601 in my hometown of Mount Airy, but few places bring such nostalgia to me as the strip in Elkin.
It was where our cars and trucks would be bumper to bumper, and with each passing car, we boys would muster up the courage to say, “Meet us at the car wash.” The car wash was a pull-off spot on the back stretch of the strip where people would meet. As crazy as it seems now, we would get into each other’s cars to ride the next lap. The goal was to get a phone number and hopefully a first date.
To give a little context, teens in the 70s would go to West Lebanon Street in Mount Airy. Even earlier, they would cruise around the Derby Restaurant in Flat Rock. My dad told me he remembered when downtown Mount Airy was a two-way street, and they would sit on the hood of their cars and watch people go by. The summers may have different dates, but the memories are much the same.
All day Saturday, we boys would wash and wax our cars and make mixtapes to play while cruising. If someone had a really nice car, everyone would pile in, which made it even more fun. It was a carefree time where the music was loud and the mullets were on point. Time was not a factor, and the nights seemed endless.
One “skill” that came out of those nights was the ability to communicate. After all, the best part of the night was getting to know new people.
To further date myself, one Saturday a friend came up with a complex plan to make us stand out. Keep in mind, the only “mobile phone” we knew of was on television, and even those had cords. First, a phone receiver and cord were unplugged from his parents’ house. Next, a cassette tape recording was made of a house phone ringing. Finally, the end of the cord was crammed into the console for authenticity.
The stage was set, and the girls were going to be impressed.
As we got halfway into town, he pressed play with the stereo volume all the way up. He let it ring a few times, then “answered” it.
Impressed? I’m sure you are. Cheesy? Absolutely. Memorable? I still laugh about it to this day.
It feels like a lifetime ago, and in many ways it is. But sometimes, when I am over that way, I will pull into the old car wash parking lot. Now, with an actual phone, I sit in silence. With a full heart and memories of days gone by, I reflect on what it meant to be a teenager in the 80s.
