It was a Sunday morning in Colorado.

A jogger ran alongside the scenic Clear Creek.

He was probably thinking about the week ahead, using his time while he jog to prioritize

and think about the things that he needed to do.

He never thought a simple jog would result in him calling the police.

You see, as he was running, he almost tripped over something,

and when he looked down, he couldn't believe what he saw.

On the ground before him, there lay a heap of mangled metal.

At least, that is what it would look like to most people at first.

And when he looked closer, he discovered this crumpled up pile of metal was actually a car, or what used to be a car.

A car? How do you trip over a car?

So this car had been wrecked and it was lying on the

ground and it wasn't standing up like how you would imagine most cars. Also, the broken vehicle

didn't have any windows and the jogger couldn't even tell who the butchered car belonged to

because there was no license plate.

If someone were to describe it, he or she might say it looked like a huge mass of junked metal with four wheels attached to it.

There was no way anyone could drive this thing.

Honestly, it kind of sounds like one of my first cars.

Well, I don't think anyone would want to drive this car, and I don't know if there was even a safe way to get into the car.

Now, there was two things the jogger did know. The car resembled the remains of a Volkswagen, and he needed to call the police.

Remember, it's 1983.

Americans had no cell phones, and so he couldn't dial 911.

...