Free The Man Called Brown Condor by Thomas E. Simmons

else had left, the barnstormer paid me with the ride of a lifetime. He let me take the controls a little bit. I could barely see out the cockpit but I made up my mind I would fly some day. That day ain’t come yet, but somehow it’s gonna.”
    The two men discovered they shared a dream so far denied them. That led to both men working together to troubleshoot and fix the problem with the doctor’s car. It was the beginning of a lifelong friendship.

Chapter 5
Chicago, 1927
    O NE OF J OHN R OBINSON’S TRAITS WAS DEPENDABILITY . H E remained at his job until a satisfactory replacement could be found, which took almost a month. Before he left, Mr. Fitzgerald called him into the office. “You do good work, Robinson, and you know how to keep your mouth shut, you know what I mean? I got contacts in Chicago that could use a guy like you. Money would be good. What do you say?”
    Johnny had to admit the money had been good, but he had been bothered by the fact that he was working for an outfit that, besides running taxis, transported bootleg whiskey after it had been smuggled across the Canadian border. What would my Momma and Daddy think if they knew that? He hadn’t done anything illegal exactly, but he thought it would be better not to have his name going to any of Mr. Fitzgerald’s contacts in Chicago. He had read about the bootlegger wars in the Windy City.
    â€œI thank you, Boss, but I’ve saved my money and believe I can start my own small shop there. That’s what I’d like to do.”
    Those friends of John’s who knew the real reason for his move to Chicago thought it was a crazy notion. Giving up a good job and moving to a new city on the chance you can get into a flying school? They thought it was plain nuts. Perhaps among the most disappointed at his departure were several young ladies who had set their sights on Johnny.
    John Robinson was never foolish about anything. Determined, independent, smart, often stubborn, he was also possessed with enough common sense to temper his dreams with sensible priorities. In Chicago he took a room on the south side and transferred his savings to a local bank.
    After two weeks of looking, he found a small vacant building that had at one time been a combination livery stable and blacksmith shop. It needed work but was suitable for conversion into a small mechanics garage and the rent was right. John set to work. He modified the rear blacksmith shop area that faced an alley with a door large enough to drive a car through and fitted a wide double door onto the front of the building with a window on one side. He purchased a professional mechanics tool set for twenty-five dollars, a welding/cutting set for ninety-five dollars, and a bench vice and electric grinder for four dollars total. He used wire fencing to enclose a storage area for parts and built a long workbench along one wall. The last item he purchased was a sign that said Robinson’s Auto Garage. With pride, he hung it on the front of the building. He was nearly broke, but for the first time he had his own business.
    John slept on an old army cot on the second floor, really an attic that had been used for storage. Working nights after closing, he converted the area into living quarters. He gradually furnished the big room with a bed, table, chair, and couch, all bought second hand. He built bookshelves across one end. At the other end he installed a sink, an oil stove, water heater, and icebox. In one corner he walled in a small bathroom with a bathtub and a sink that he had to bend over to use because of the slant of the roof. He did all the work himself using materials bought from a wrecking yard. John knew he would need better quarters come deep winter, but it would do till it got so cold he couldn’t stand it.
    At first things were more than a little slow, but with the help of a few friends from Tuskegee and others he had met in the neighborhood, a little business