How old's the oldest H.A.M.B. member?60+?Tell us a cool story

1975-87 Dads & My Car, by wicarnut posted Jan 16, 2014 at 3:15 PM

A racing story from 1975, I was in my fifth year of driving my Dad's Midget racer. I had been running pretty good all summer, faster due to a Edmunds chassis, a new Sesco Chev engine I purchased added with more seat time/experience. I had never had a bad/hard/bell ringing flip until late in the 75 season, a few somewhat easy crashes previous years. This night I qualified mid pack, all summer had been making thropy dash or close to dash, did not transfer out of heat, first feature I missed all year so semi feature was my next race. I pushed off with mindset I'm going to win, no excuses.....make it happen, Ok by lap 6/8 or so Myself another racer were running away from pack racing each other, I was faster but he was not making it easy for me, we come down back stretch, I had him and he darts left and I run over the RR of a lap car WFO, totally my fault for not looking ahead which is big time a rookie mistake, all I saw was the stars, closed my eyes, took a grip, hell of a flip they tell me, first hit knocked me out, cleared the fence and came to in the dark outside the track. A trip to crash house, no broken bones, damaged my Bell helmet in back on roll cage, big time concussion, shoulder belt bruises and man I Hurt everywhere. My Dad fixed the car and 2 weeks later I tried to run it, it did not run right, a blessing, I parked it, I was not ready anyway. I tried again following week, ran good 6th place in feature, got out and told my Dad, something is wrong with me, I'm still dizzy/nauseous/neck hurting bad and so I go to my doctor, he sends me to hospital for x-rays/tests, my neck was fractured, pinching nerves, a pretty big problem. SO....... our season over and I take 76 off, Dad ran the car with various drivers, the best one being Mel Cornett, I started my Tool & Die business 1976, sponsored Dads car, I ran only a few races in 77/78 and came back in 79, another set of stories through 91. Not sure this is a kool story, just a story from my racing hobby.

 

Hey, I happen to know a couple of those drivers....

 

77 years young here. Best true story is .....I helped an older mechanic friend put a 57 J-2 engine in a 40 Ford pick up. The day we got it running was a cold Ohio winter day. No fenders, hood; just that sweet J-2 out front. The day was over so he said hop in, Ill take you home. I had walked to the garage. Hit the road, stood on it for a second & suddenly here is a stop sign. YIKES, no brakes. Thanks GOD there was no other traffic. Got out & walked the rest of the way home. I sure loved that truck.

 

75 I know I look a lot younger, eh no I don't

 

Currently 77. Conservative and old fashioned.

No stories worth telling. Spent one night jail when I was 19. I felt I didn’t need to ever go back to see if things changed.

A car is not a “she or her”. Cars don’t have names painted on them. A car can have a “rake” or be “lowered” it doesn’t have s****e.

A woman can have red hair and red lips but no added metal unless it saved her life. If I wanted to look at art work I’d go to a gallery not look at skin.

I’ll add more if I think it is good enough…..probably not.

 

75, matches my mechanical IQ

 

I am Greg White at 81 years young HAMB member since 2008.. One beautiful moon lit midnight my friend Ray & I were out cruising in his '55 Ford Crown Vic. We got in a top speed race with a '56 Crown Vic. Oh it was great, the twin pipes on both y blocks blaring out into the darkness. The amazing thing was that the two y-blocks were absolutely even in speed. We ran side by side for maybe a couple of miles. neither FoMoCo could pull ahead of the other by over about a half car length. Little did we know the Fords were drafting each other. We could have raced 25 miles & they still would have been even. ( if they didn't blow up first). I yelled at Ray saying I was going to lower the power window. Ray replied if I did he would throw me out. The '55 had a 6 volt system & the power windows drew so much current that it would cause the engine to misfire.
In 1960 my same friend Ray traded his Vic in on a new '60 Chev Biscane 2dr equipped with a 348 cu in 335 hp , 3-2's, solid lifter cam, 11 to 1 compression, T 10 4spd. In it's day it was a rocket. About the first day he he thoughtfully wired toggle switches into the tail light & stop light circuits which very soon would become a traffic ticket saver. About a week after the big purchase we again were out cruising. Sure enough before long an Iowa Highway Patrol car was behind us with his red lights flashing & his siren wailing. ( the patrol at that time had '60 Dodges with 383 engines) Ray put the pedal to the metal & before long we were way, way ahead. Ray tripped the tail light switches, we crested a big hill & blasted down the other side. We looked back & there was the fuzz, sitting on top of the hill, wondering where we went. About 40 years later I was having idle conversation with that same, by then retired, patrolman. He started bragging about how really fast the '60 Dodge patrol cars were. I just couldn't stand it and reminded him about a 60 Chev blew his doors off. Even after 40 years he still didn't think it was funny. I sure did! Greg

 

Im 68, head tells me Im 18 body keeps reminding me Im not.
Bought my first car at a junk yard 1950 Nash Ambassador 2 door sedan. No radiator, my buddy and I pushed it to my house 2 blocks away down hill all the way. (could have said up hill here make me sound really old and tough) bought for 10 bucks with my book of US saving stamps. for those who dont know you could get a book at the post office and buy stamps for 10 cents each put them in the book and when you filled it you could trade it for a savings bond. anyway I digress dad came home saw the Nash he was mad but told me I could keep it. It didnt have a radiator so it didnt run he figured I could tinker with it maybe learn something. Dad had a 57 ford at the house with a blown engine and a radiator. next day I took the radiator out and cobbled it in the Nash & got it running. when he got home I was driving it, Man was he pissed.

 

72 years old and had my first driving "fun" with a go kart. 5 of us guys in north Minneapolis pooled our dough and bought a kart in 1962 or 1963. Throttle linkage was broken. That didn't stop us from driving our new toy that first day. One guy on the back working the throttle and one driving. My turn to drive and it was dark. No problem, right? Going down the street at maybe 25 mph. Then flashing red lights right behind us. My throttle man says, "I'm gonna punch it, turn in the next driveway and go go." I did, under clothes lines, past snarling dogs, irate home owners. If there was a back yard and alley Grand Prix, we won. Stopped after a while and waited, listened, then drove it back to the garage. Whew...

 

I Am 73 And Got Into Hotrods When I Was 16 So Two Of The Older Hotrodders Who Are Now 81 And 85 Took Me For A Tour Of The Local Towns In My Brothers Chrysler Powered 40 Deluxe Coupe In Search Of My First Project Which We Found As A 40 Ford Standard Coupe Which I Built In 1965...Here Is The Scout Vehicle...

 

Now I'm 81. I joined the HAMB in 2001, and this is the 4th time I've posted in this thread. Nothing noteworthy to report from the last 8 years since I last posted.

 

The good part is I feel way younger than what I am, so there's that....

 

Oh forgot to mention I was 13, and spent a lot of time helping him work on our cars, so I thought I knew something.

 

i feel like im over a hunerd . rode hard an put away wet . does that count for anything ??..........................?

 

I will be 78 in January. My dad owned an auto parts store and machine shop. During grade school I started in the shop during school vacations. I continued to work after school and on vacations until I graduated from college. Built a 27 T roadster during high school. I bored the block and assembled the engine myself. I started to port and polish the block until I realized how much work it would be.

After a tour in the Navy, I became a workaholic in a series of corporate jobs, finally owning and operating a manufacturing company. With retirement I am back to cars and am currently finishing a 28 RPU and a 27 Track T.

Back then the filling/gas stations in our state were full service and did lube, tune up, brake and exhaust work. They employed a lot of high school kids and other ne'er-do-wells. These guys were an endless series of screw ups. One of my favorites was the guy that went out to pull the a customer's car in the service bay, He came in hot and the brake petal hit the floor. Every one of the cans of oil stored on the back shelves left a dent in the hood, roof, and truck lid.

 

Ya know there are days and then there are days..........................

 

This past Summer I went to the BMARA reunion at Sun Prairie, Angel Park Speedway. Some takeaways, I saw and spoke with Dean, he seemed to know me, still not able to communicate, in a wheel chair and living in a nursing home now I was told. Dick, seems happy and in good health. I talk with Dick yearly, the Billings are good people and Deans accident is a part of racing we all hate but have to accept. A lot of the guys I raced with are gone now, I left happy seeing old friends, sharing stories, the older we get the faster we were applies, signed a few autographs for nostalgia collector types And Very Thankful and Grateful to be here enjoying life, My Gaurdian Angel has watched over me all my life

 

Lion's Dragstrip main refreshment stand... Don Gillespie photo

Hello,

We had been going to Lion’s Dragstrip since we were involved in racing my brother’s 58 Impala, we found many of our high school friends working in snack bar, refreshment stands and the small pits hot dog stand almost every weekend. The food was great, the Cokes were cold and the meal was what became our weekly Saturday lunch and dinner choices. Dragstrip food for a couple of teens. What a concept.

But, we did not want to drive home just to get something to eat, when the tasty hot dogs were for lunch. Then to change it up for dinner, Chili Dogs and Chili covered Tamales, with several Cokes. Teenage meals satisfied the want and needs easily.


Although our friends worked in the Lion’s Dragstrip pits mostly, sometimes they worked in the big refreshment stand in the spectator’s side outside of the Pits. That place was large and the workers were above and removed with direct contact, other than taking the money and handing out the food.

The small Pits refreshment stands were the best as the direct contact with the drag racers was fun and interesting. Plus, while talking or eating our lunch/dinners, a drag racer would start up his/her motor for some pits tuning.
Drag News Photo
The lonely small snack stand in the Pits area.

The dragstrip pits, the action was always happening from a tear down of motors, or changing tires, transmissions, and even simple things like spark plugs between rounds. But, the access to the pits snack counter was helpful.


Like all places, there were some folks that just did not get it with the crowds and commotion during lunch hour rush or the dinner break hour prior to the last elimination races. Cooler heads should prevail, but to some, it was a make or break moment for them. Sheesh… it is only a drag race.

Our surfer, high school friend was not the tallest guy in the pits snack bar. But, he held his own against anyone giving the workers a hard time… get this, do that, more of this, etc. Sometimes it led to a confrontation between the obnoxious racers and the little guy in the pits snack bar. The service was always good and fast, as fast as the cooking and serving can be. But there are those that don’t plan very well and are always in a rush.

For whatever reason, a heated argument started between an obnoxious racer and our friend behind the counter.
The small hot dog stand in the Pits

The friend was safe as he had all of us gathered around having a late night dinner and the usual teenage banter. But this guy was bothering all of us. He pointed to our friend behind the counter and said something that was not nice.

Jnaki
So, the classic statement that came out from our small friend, surprised all of us and gave the obnoxious guy reason to believe all of us were against him. It was not just our friend against him. Our friend said this comment that will forever last in our memories: Saying it to the larger obnoxious racer:

“Don’t let fear stop you from coming over the counter!” Then the guy walked away knowing the odds against our friend and his supporters. We all had a good chuckle and the night continued until the end of the eliminations and closing.

Years later, after high school, the friend was one of the only surfers from our area that got into UCSB and we were glad to visit him almost, weekly, during the winter surf season. Rincon, the Harbor, the Campus Point Break and beyond the campus, Devereaux Beach with its big peaks/ long walls…

A radical college student to say the least. He was the only person that painted his whole dorm room black with surf posters on the walls to give the room some color. Some local color for the radical 60's years at UCSB.

 

Not that I'm that all that old, yet. But I'll add a funny little story from back in the good old days. A few of us kids, would hang out at the Esso station in town. We wanted to be around the Cool Hot Rod guys. But this story isn't about the Rodders. It's about a old man who owned the Ford dealership in town. { note } He drink a LOT ! So we were all just hanging out at the Esso station, when old Mr. Stickley came driving down the street in his new Ford. He hit, and then ran over one of those tin school safety signs, that look like a policeman holding a sign that says, {Slow school zone}. It got stuck under his car. So he stopped, got out, and walked around his car looking to see what he had hit??? It was a four door. So when he got back in. He got back in the driver's REAR door. lol By this time we were all laughing ourselves silly! He sit there for a minute, then got back out, and got back in the front drivers seat. He just drove off with the school sign dragging under his car. Now we were all, REALLY LAUGHING!!!

 

I was at Dick's house when he got the first phone call about Dean, just that he was in a wreck, which at that time was nothing new. This was when Pam ( Ruthie) was still alive and seemed like not a big deal. It wasn't until the next day I found out how bad it was. Yes, if Dean knows you he'll perk up for sure, I still talk to Dick a couple times a month. Guessing the accident is now coming up on 25 years old.

 

The stories that my older brother would come back and tell me late at night back in those days set the tone for our adventures, later on in our teenage years. His group was a couple of years older and involved some famous and not so famous drag racers that set plenty of records at the So Cal drags. There were several classes ahead of his 1959 class and those stories are also melded into the mystery of Bixby Knolls history.


Hello,

Throughout the timeline of Bixby Knolls, each generation or group from the local high school, played a big part of its history. As one group moved on to its place in hot rodding or just into the society’s jobs/ colleges, the next group stepped right up and continued the hot rodding scene in Bixby Knolls.

Our group’s history started when we were 9th graders that funneled into our big high school. LB Poly HS has a history that goes back to 1911 at the current location, (1895 at the first building location) there must be plenty of old hot rod stories. The supply is endless with the local high school kids, newly licensed drivers, their cars and remaining teenage hangouts. 2022 is the 60th anniversary of those Class of 62 shenanigans and hot rod history.

Jnaki

But, something happened over the years. Ideas changed, cars changed, Lion’s closed, the drive-in changed hands, and the other restaurants closed or moved. The community was getting older and the families changed, too. They tried to revive the 60s feelings with Cacklefests and hot rod displays on closed main streets of Bixby Knolls, but that did not last long. Now, the Historical Society of Long Beach has opened a storefront with plenty of historical artifacts and research files. It is located right in the middle of the Bixby Knolls cruising grounds.

Some of my favorite coffee table books are the following ones that describe So Cal drag racing scene. They are still lasting in place, because they are better bound, look good, hold up better with constant readings and are better than pliable magazines. Besides magazines being on their last legs, the coffee table books have a longer shelf life. They have the looks that will stand the test of time for scrutinizing eyes.

Note:
I needed some reference books to get some identification for my newly created digital movie films. In talking to one of the original writers of the coffee table style books on drag racing and hot rod circles, it opened my eyes to how others saw the historic action back in 1958-65 era.

It was nice to see a section that told about our 1940 Willys incident, although mislabeled from a Drag News story of that time period. The book told of a different way to see what was happening in those development years at Lions Dragstrip, the Long Beach speed shop collective, and the new ideas that came from those innovators, Mickey Thompson, Joe Mailliard, Joe Reath, Clay Smith, etc.

Mickey Bryant /Todd Hutcherson’s books on Lions Dragstrip
https://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/threads/the-history-of-los-angeles.446547/page-115#post-12484729
History can only be remembered with written words and photographs. For those not in the local area during this early part of drag racing, there were several books written about some history of this Westside Dragstrip and its characters. It should be part of this drag race History section.

The "Three Weeks in March" tells the story behind the West Coast foray of Don Garlits, that wild driver from Florida. He had captured the attention of all of the fastest racers on the West Coast and this book tells the story of that scene in So Cal. Was that East Coast drag racer with top speeds and times listed in the Drag News, real? That was the questions asked from most West Coast racers.

The other two books…well if you are interested in drag race/hot rod from those “good old days,” the other books are a must read. History presented itself in bound form that lasts a long time.

But the newest book written about the So Cal drag racing scene and Lions in particular was written by John “Waldo” Glaspey, a So Cal local. He has been following drag racing since those early days. It is a small world as if someone who stays in So Cal long enough, you are bound to meet someone from way back then. I had a nice conversation with John Glaspey at the Lions Dragstrip Museum Grand Opening in June of 2017.

He gave me a recollection of a then, 19 year old college art student, sitting in the crowded stands all day, watching the racing down on the track. The story he told me created shivers down my back and arms. It was a first hand look at our Willys Coupe racing, winning and final run late at night. The description he gave was one of being a “fan favorite” as we kept winning race after race until 9 p.m. at night.

John Glaspey described the clutch blowing right in front of his “spectator side” seats and a clear view of the flaming Willys wedged into the spectator side fence, burning itself out. He probably saw me using several fire extinguishers down below, to no avail. Then, watching me zipping off to the ambulance back at the finish line to see my brother.

Of all of the books we have in our basket/book shelves, (So Cal Thunder) this is the one to read and own. The art work is fantastic. The stories are on a different viewpoint from the others. But, the photos (old college roommates were pro photographers) and his own, personal, drag racing art work is by far the best published. This is one heck of a good book to read and have on your coffee table.

So Cal Thunder it is… No, it is not a Los Angeles pro soccer team, but an excellent book on Drag Racing in So Cal.

Some of the best drag racing original photos were taken by Don Hale and Roy Robinson.

So Cal legends:


This story is a classic about Tom McEwen, his history of Bixby Knolls and beyond. Similar to the tales told to me from my brother’s own experiences.

from the books of Mickey Bryant and Todd Hutcheson.
RETRO REVISITED: Long Beach’s Best Dragstrip

The opening of Lions Drag Strip in October of 1955 was a welcome addition to the large number of drag race crazed fans of the sport. Up to that point their need for speed and the thrill of racing side-by-side with a fellow hot rodder was relegated to any long, dimly lit street, late at night, far from a populated area. They now could take this passion to a facility set up just to accommodate drag racers only, with lots of lights and people…and they won’t get busted! What a deal.

On every weekend, us Long Beach guys could drive the five miles or so and line up with someone in the other lane and get our fill of what drove us – dead serious drag racing. The experience would carryover and last all day Monday, and on Tuesday we were thinking, “Well, it’s only five days ‘til Saturday when we can do it all again.” It was just great, but a few thoughts would creep into our collective minds right about then.

What about Wednesday? Wonder who is planning on showing up at Cherry Avenue looking for a little action? Can I really do without the rush of real, honest-to-goodness, illegal street racing?

Lions, we love you, but, sorry, you aren’t enough. Besides, how could we do without the danger of it all, not to mention all the trouble we went through to mark off the quarter mile or so there on Cherry Avenue between Del Amo Boulevard and Carson Boulevard. It was the perfect spot, albeit a little ominous. Off the right lane was the Sunnyside Mausoleum and the left lane view was the All Souls Cemetery. One of the nicknames was “Death Row” but we didn’t use that a lot. All the cliques made the rounds – “a race venue to die for”, “Deadman’s straight”, and my personal favorite, “bare bones racing”.

It didn’t matter – it was long and dark, and no side streets came into play until way past the finish stripe painted across the street one quarter mile down. Not precisely 1320 feet, but close enough. In addition, the two lanes we used for racing were separated by a large grass median, creating a huge gap from the two lanes heading the other direction on the other side. It’s as if it was designed just for street racing! We tried explaining that to an officer or two, but they would have just kept on writing.

Ideal it was, legal it wasn’t. On any given night there was one thing that would make us dash to our hot rods and scatter from the scene. It was the sound of Tom McEwen’s Chevy approaching.

Long before he staked his claim as a drag racing legend, McEwen raced at our little makeshift venue on Cherry Avenue. And he ruled the roost. The first time we laid eyes on this guy he rolled up in a brand new 1955 Chevy Tudor. It was painted that blue and white two-tone, the post model. It was rumored to be the very first one delivered in Long Beach, and it was one mean machine. It had this strange whistling sound that we figured was how they all sounded since this was the first time for any of us being up close and personal to Chevy’s newest and baddest.

Tom did say it was stock, but we all said that. In reality it was hiding an Iskenderian cam and almost unnoticed was a set of Hedman headers. That whistling sound was coming from a McCullough blower. I swear if someone showed up to race at our spot with a second engine hanging out of the trunk the owner would say, “Came from the factory like this.”

The cool thing about that whole Cherry Avenue racing deal was the ritual involved. Before ganging up in front of Sunnyside to wait for someone to show, we would first cruise into our favorite spot just a couple of miles from the strip at Grissinger’s Drive-in. It was twofold. Best burger in town, but the fries topped with gravy was the real treat, plus whoever planned to shoot it out that night over on Cherry would most likely first stop at Grissinger’s. It gave you a chance to size up the competition and visa-versa.

Many a good meal was choked on when we would hear that familiar sound of a hot machine turning off of Atlantic Avenue to slide into one of the carhop slots for their pre-race chow. The rush had started, and then it was an easy trip down San Antonio Drive to Cherry, hang a right and pull into the main entrance of the Mausoleum. Sometimes there was actually a mini caravan heading over there. It was definitely something you could not get from Lions Drag Strip. We really needed both.

I remember somewhere in 1956 there was a rumor floating around that McEwen no longer had that ’55 Chevy. It was gone. Did he crash it? Is he OK? We soon learned what happened – he now has a ’56 Chevy. Ah, geez. This puppy had the Corvette motor from the factory, which now was the 283 c.i. (replacing the 265 c.i. that came in the ’55), his trademark Isky cam and Hedman headers, plus a set of dual-quad carbs.

It gets worse. The next year he shows up in a ’57, which had all the speed features of the ‘56. Now who does this? A ’55 in ’55, a ’56 in ’56 and ’57 in ’57. Who else had each one of those Tri-Five Chevy’s during that period?

Tom did have some competition at Cherry Avenue, though. Joe Pisano, who would become a force at Lions as part of the Pisano Bros., had this mean-looking, black 1957 Chevy and would give McEwen all he wanted. One thing we never bothered to ask Joe was whether it was stock or not. That would be tantamount to asking Mickey Thompson if he liked his job as head of Lions Drag Strip.

Only in Long Beach, probably. Why not, after all we did have what most would say years later was the greatest drag strip ever.

I just assumed they meant Cherry Avenue.

Read more stories from this acclaimed team of writers from the books of Mickey Bryant and Todd Hutcheson.

 

I Am Not Nearly The Oldest At 75 But Have Always Been Fascinated By Shells Ad In The 1955 HRM To Convert Your Stocker While Vacationing In So Cal...

 

I'm 83. My first car was a 1940 Ford convertible, which cost $150 I earned as a movie theater usher at 60 cents an hour. It had a torn up top and no seats. Until I could afford seats, I drove it with a lawn chair. It had the unfortunate habit of folding up if braked too hard. Eventually burned up the motor and traded it for a 1946 AJS 500cc motorcycle.

At that time there was an annual carnival about a mile up the road from my house. One day while rummaging around near a creek down the hill in the woods behind the carnival grounds. I came upon an old "Wall of Death" Harley board track racer that had been thrown down the hill by the carnival folks. The Wall of Death was a feature where motorcycles raced around a large barrel-shaped structure. They eventually rose close to the rim from centrifugal force.

I pushed the bike home, and started dismantling it to see what was wrong with it. I don't recall how far I got, or what I did with it, but I do remember pushing it home, and my parents' reaction.

 

I'll be 69 next week.....bought my first "street legal" car in late 67....It was a mint cond., fully loaded, 2 tone green 55 Nomad, for $25....my uncle had a tow yard and towed for Cal Hiway Patrol...he got a call to pick up this car on the highway near Mojave....the owner had engine problems and left it out in the country, went back the next morning and someone had stolen the engine out of it....I spotted it in my uncles tow yard and asked about it, said he couldn't release it for 60 days if I remember right....so a few weeks later I'm watching Beverly Hillbillies and see him pull up in front with the car in tow....damn, I wanted that car...he knocked on the door and asked for my dad, who wasn't home then he asked if I had $25 on me....no I said but I'll get it...alright he says the cars yours for $25, pay me when you get it...we pulled a good running 283 out of my dads 59 Chev PU and I had a super clean car...I worked summers for Jerry Turner, Turners Auto Wrecking, Fresno, Ca and took it by to show him....only thing missing was one tailgate bar and the word Nomad...Jerry tells me to go out by the back fence, there was a Nomad there and check the tailgate...sure enough, the tailgate was completely intact, so I pulled one of the bars and the Nomad script, which Jerry gave me, no cost...went home and installed them...a few days later I got to thinking about that tailgate so I went back to retrieve the test of the bars and the tailgate was gone...drove that car all thru high school and sold it about 5 years later to buy a 65 S.S. 4sp Impala.......interesting note on the Nomad.....I took it to the local Upholstery shop to have the carpet replaced due to some stains...that was around 1970...about 5 years ago I took a 69 Roadrunner into that same shop, mind you almost 50 yrs later and the guy at the counter looks me over for a second and asked me if I had a 55 Nomad back in the early 70s...he was a kid at the time hanging around his dads shop...I said "man, I can't believe you remember that"...and he says..."boy, when you brought that car in I seriously thought about stealing it". We laughed and he has done several cars and a couple bikes for me since....go figure...the guy I sold it to still drives it around Fresno and I see it from time to time, won't sell it back, though he wrecked it a ways back and put a BelAire front end on it so it's missing the stainless eyebrows over the headlights. I only have 1 pic of that car and only because it snowed one winter in Fresno so I ran out and snapped a pic, cuz it NEVER snows in Fresno.

 

I’m 76, so I can go back to 1963 when I was 17, and out of high school for the summer.

I had bought my first Model A coupe from a guy way across town in North Jacksonville.
$50 of hard earned grocery bag-boy money and a couple years of Hot Rod Magazine became the rocket fuel ignited by my old car lust.
My dad wasn’t interested in getting it home, so I enlisted the help of my best friend, Vince.
We both had our driver’s licenses for a year, so what could go wrong? We were veterans.

My dad reluctantly let us use his 59 Plymouth 4 door sedan as a tow car, and we scrounged up a chain and a piece of pipe. The fact that neither of us had EVER done anything like this wasn’t an issue.

Since I was driving the “Phlegm Plym”, Vince was relegated to steering the A.
No seat, no problem. A milk crate was substituted.
No brakes on the A, no problem. That’s what the pipe was for.

It was at least thirty miles, through downtown, over the St. John’s River bridge, and on through South Jax until we got to my house.
Vince screamed like a girl the whole way, trying to keep the A straight behind the “Phlegm Plym”. The self adjusting milk crate seat didn’t help. And our choice of a too short piece of pipe made starts and stops a neck snapping, white knuckle, wide eyed experience. Vince just screamed louder.

But we made it. Mom’s prayers were answered.

No wrecks, the Plym’s bumper hitch survived, not a cop anywhere on our route and Vince remained a buddy for many years. Although he did stay clear of any more of my car retrieval ideas, for some reason.

 

Just turned 71! One story of my stupid youth stands out. Back in the early seventies two of my friends and I were drinking in my room at the Trade winds motel. We came up with the idea of going to my home town of about 200 people, about 15 miles away. The town had a cop that had a reputation of chasing people in his pickup! We thought that would be a good way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Mike, One of my fiends had just aquired a newer unmentionable car, so we mud the tag and drive by the cops house, we circle the block and do a burn out in front of his house….and wait!
Well…..he come busting out of his mobile home, chickens flying…..and starts shooting at us with his military .45!
I’m in the back seat as the other Mike was a large guy and had shotgun, I drop down and holler at Driver Mike to hit it! Get out of here.
We scram and hide the car in Driver Mikes garage! And get my similar but one year older and different color car to get back to the motel.
Well it got all over my home town that the cop shot up MY car!
When I pulled into the school a couple of days later, I came out of the office and there were twenty kids looking my car over for bullet holes!
I acted dumb ( easy for me) and asked what they were looking for! Total denial!
This story goes on, but this was the best part!





Bones

 

I will be ‘73 in December and the only really good story was that I went to the movies with my favorite girl at the time and when we came out my ‘68 Beetle was on its roof! The girlfriend and I along with two other guys rolled it back to its shoes. Battery acid had leaked out and needless to say it would not start. We got driven home by someone who was the worst driver as he insisted my girl sit in the front seat, miniskirts being the thing then - real short ones - and he was looking down more than where he was going. I considered it a compliment but my girl didn’t …. Oh well. The next day I “borrowed” my parents big ‘65 olds and on my own with the help of a spare tire, literally tied the bug right to the Olds rear bumper with clothesline rope with the tire inbetween. Needless to say at every turn I made I had to jump out mid way and turn the bug’s steering wheel to negotiate the turn. There were only about 8 turns or so but it was an interesting 8 turns!

 

I'm 65, so maybe still a snot around some of y'all.

This pic was 1965 in Lincoln Pk, MI. I'd have been 8. Dad raced mostly from the home garage. One bright weekend morning he fires that thing up, backs it outta the garage and has me climb in. The exhaust was nearly frightening but it didn't stop me. Gulf premium was just 1 block up the street. He has me climb in his lap AND DRIVE THE CAR! The clutch was hard, no gas, he shifted. The thunder for just 1 block at idle, he helps turn it into the station and has me hop off, a rev then quiet. Old Clifford came out thinkin how crazy to drive it on the street. Once filled said he show him crazy. Fired it up and drove off down Van Born to Pelham, then long block home. He whacked it up pretty good, short loop and back in the driveway. That's dear ol Dad in the back. I had a good childhood...

 

I am 87 soon to be 88 got my first car at 15 39 chevy 2door soon traded it for 39 chevy coupe drove it through high school and then sold it and bought 50 ford 2 door and have had several cars of all kinds since then. Now have 39 ford 2 door street rod and 50 ford original. I have to have a lot of help now.