Church Street Boat Ramp

I just read that Evanston is holding public hearings on whether to relocate the Church Street Boat Ramp. I’m indifferent, but can relate a precious, 5-​star memory about this ramp.
I was 16 in Summer 1975. My Uncle J. was then just 33. He was a goof. He had a white Trans Am. He used to let me drive the Trans Am. We used to drink together. He liked to fish. He had a boat. We liked to drink and fish.
One gorgeous summer morning in 1975, Uncle J. called me and proposed that we go fishing. That meant a cooler of beer and an afternoon on Lake Michigan. I went to his house. We attached his boat trailer to the Trans Am. We drove to the Church Street Boat Ramp. There was a line to launch boats.
We parked the Trans Am with boat in tow. We removed the cooler, sat in the park, and began to drink. We were both drunk when it was our turn to launch the boat. We were unclear who was less sober. So, we flipped a coin to determine who would back the boat down the ramp for launch. I lost. I had to back the Trans Am down that ramp.
I began backing down the ramp. I was doing fine. But Uncle J. thought I was going crooked. He started yelling and made me stop. I put the car in gear. I turned off the ignition. I set the emergency break. I got out of the car.
There was the Trans Am with a boat still attached, stopped part way down the ramp.
«What the fuck?»
Uncle J. said, «You’re too drunk. You’re making me nervous.»
«Fine. You do it.» I flipped him the keys.
Uncle J. got in his Trans Am and continued the launch. He started going crooked.
«Fuck, man. You’re too drunk. Straighten out.»
«Fuck off, Junior. I’m fine.»
«No, you’re not fine. Why don’t you stop and look at what you’re doing?»
He continues to go crooked.
«Hey, STOP. You’re going to dump it!!!»
Brakes slam. Still-​trailered boat is damn near hanging. Calmly, Uncle J. asks: «You’re not shitting me? It seems like I’m straight.»
«No. Get out and look.»
«Fine.»
He got out but forgot to set the emergency brake. The Trans Am popped out of gear.
The Trans Am slid back, and down, and the car and still-​trailered boat slid right into Lake Michigan. The Trans Am was submerged about half way.
We stared at each other, speechless, but only momentarily. Then we both burst into hysterical laughter.
Neither of us cared much that we’d just made it impossible for anyone else to use the ramp. We endured the insults hurled at us by would-​be boat launchers who knew damn well we were drunk.
There were only pay phones then. So, we found a pay phone and called a tow truck. We drank more beer while waiting for the tow truck’s arrival.
When the tow truck arrived, Uncle J. and I looked at each other and asked if the truck was big enough to haul the Trans Am and the boat out of the water. Uncle J. asked the driver pointedly about that. He asked if perhaps we should first separate the boat from the trailer before the tow attempt. But the driver insisted the truck was big enough; he could get both car and still-​trailered boat in one attempt.
So, the tow truck backed down the ramp. The driver began to attempt to hook the tow gear to the Trans Am. At that moment the Trans Am slid further into Lake Michigan; now it was fully submerged.
Cursing, the driver backed farther down the ramp. He stopped the truck. He hooked up the Trans Am. He got in the truck and began attempting to tow car and still-​trailered boat.
Hell if we hadn’t been correct. The tow truck couldn’t handle it. But, it was too late. The ramp was slippery. The driver lost control of the tow truck and his load.
The tow truck slid back into Lake Michigan.
Another pay phone. Another, bigger tow truck summoned. More beer while waiting for the second truck to arrive.
The big — no, GIGANTIC tow truck finally pulled everything out of the water: little tow truck, Trans Am, and still-​trailered boat.
But, GIGANTIC tow truck driver was no fool. He pulled everything out of the water only so far as he had to — to ensure that this giant load could come off the ramp. But he left everything still on the ramp, parked the GIGANTIC tow truck, and then approached Uncle J. about payment.
GIGANTIC tow truck driver gave Uncle J. a GIGANTIC bill. I don’t remember how much it was, but Uncle J. refused to pay. He insisted it wasn’t his fault that the first truck went into the Lake.
Screaming ensued. Tempers were way out of control. Racial slurs and religious epithets were traded.
«I want my money, Jew mutha-​fucka. Puttin’ yo shit back in. Watch me!!!»
Uncle J., calmly: «Go ahead, Boy. The car is already destroyed.»
GIGANTIC TRUCK DRIVER GOT BACK IN AND STARTED PUTTING EVERYTHING BACK INTO THE WATER!
Now little tow truck driver starts threatening the life of GIGANTIC tow truck driver. A would-​be boat launcher called Evanston Police, who arrived as GIGANTIC tow truck driver gingerly backed everything into the Lake.
Mess reversed by police. Only 1 tow charge.