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

In 1966 my Uncle drove up from Long Island NY to visit. He was driving his brand new 66 Dodge 4 DR. We had a long driveway. At the end was my Dad's work Garage. Parked outside was his Econoline Van. Parents and the Uncle/Aunt went out for the day. I decided to drive the van up and down the driveway. 6cyl 3 on the tree. So back and forth I go till I hear BAM. My Uncle had parked near the entrance to the driveway. Crap. So I go to pull forward and the trailer hitch ball is stuck under the front bumper of the Dodge. I pull it about 15 feet leaving rubber marks. Crap. I'm by myself so I then start jumping on the new Dodge bumper to free it but since nobody was there the truck could not be moved forward. Moulding on the hood gets dented. Crap. Double Crap Dad's home......They all get out WTF Dad says You know the rest

 

I just turned 65 the other day. In 1962 I had a '52 Ford Victoria with a Merc flathead in it. It was summer and I had the hood off to show off the chrome on the motor, no front bumper for the gasser look and dual exhaust with glasspaks. As I made a turn in my town to drive up the hill to my friends house, I see a PA State Trooper sitting at the stop sign. I know if I go up the hill he'll hear the loud pipes, so I turn beside him trying to go on the flat. As I make the turn and look at him, he's pointing to me to pull over. So he walks up and asks where's the hood and bumper ? I lied and said I wrecked them and haven't replaced them yet. He then asked if I had glasspaks on the car and I said I did. He then said, I could write you up for having glasspaks ( $25 dollars per side ) but I'll just write you up for illegal noise. He said get some regular mufflers on the car, put a bumper and hood on and bring it to the state police station. I did all that and drove it to the station to be checked, and nobody came out to see if I did that at all ! The car just wasn't the same after that with the quiet mufflers. I got rid of it that October for a '56 Chevy.......with 2 glasspaks !!

 

im 63 ....................... steve

 

I'm only 60 but I've been around the block a few times myself. Sometimes I look at the world around me now and see it through the eyes of a time traveler just transported here from 1963, and I think jeez this is NOT the future we dreamed of. Back then during hunting season all the pickup trucks in the high school parking lot had rifles in the rack behind the seat. When the fire siren blew anyone over 18 could get out of school to fight the fire.

An old timer back then once told me and a friend that we had the wrong slant... we laughed about that for years... but at the time we were on our way to Woodstock and there was no looking back. I look around at the kids today and now I know what he meant.

One time when I was in the USAF stationed in west Texas some friends and I got tired of waiting for the bus into town so we pooled our money ($6.25 each) and bought a 1958 Ford with no brakes for $25. It was flat as a pool table out there so we figured we didn't need brakes too often, we'd just look for something to run into to get it stopped. We drove it till the gas & the beer ran out and just left it where it finally stopped and hitched a ride back to the base.

This story is second hand so I don't have all the specifics. The guy who told it to me would be 109 years old if he were still around. He was a pilot since the days before pilots needed a license. He told me that he began hearing stories from fellow pilots that at some airports they were starting to REQUIRE that you had a license. Imagine that! Eventually he got to the point that he figured he better get one too. When he finally did they issued him one with a four digit (federal) pilots license number I think the actual number was less than 2000. He told me what the number was and he was damn proud of it because it was still active when he was in his 90's, but I don't rember what the number was. Anyway, I don't know how many of his first planes he built himself and he had to rig up his own solutions for things like for gettin heat into the cockpit etc. because nobody had figured that stuff out yet. One time while he was flying, he had to climb out of the plane, open the hood and turn the heat diverter valve or he would have frozen to death.

Anyway, I used to help this guy out in his later years because he could still do anything and everything but his strength was gone and he needed a helper.... I worked on a bunch of projects with him and they would take forever, because he would get going with story after story and sometimes it seemed like having someone to tell his stories to was more important than getting the work done. I look back now at all those stories and I wish I had a tape recorder going because there were so many of them and I've forgotten a million details.

He ran an automotive garage in a medium sized town in PA but the airfield was about six miles outside of town. One time he needed to bring his plane in for an engine rebuild, so he removed the wings and early one Sunday morning he flew/drove the thing (a tail-dragger) into the town on the local two lane road. He said the propeller took up his side of the road and there was enough room for a car to pass but two or three cars that he encounterd ran off the road trying to get away from him.

PS What's a Doodlebug? see this thread
http://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/showthread.php?t=35758

 

I'm 53. As a kid in New York I was thrilled to find out my family's moving to SoCal in 69 (I'm 14 then), where ALL the cool stuff lives that I've been reading about in the magazines. About a year later, I bought my 1st car for $20!

 

Nothing better spoken. Something that hurts me these days is seeing how little pride some people take in some things they do and how selfish they are. My daughters boyfriend can't even change a tire, we went up there to STL, and my daughter's car had a flat and it had been for days. I was an asshole. I made my daughter change it, I taught her how before she got her driver's license, you think the three-toed sloth even helped. No he was busy playing X-box with his buddies. Give me a break.

If I built a sloppy wall, with splits in the studs, the old man would take a crow bar to it and pull it down and make me redo it. wasn't any "...that's Ok Jr,Its my fault for not showing you better..." Shitty wiring? He would grab a handful and just rip it out, and I mean rip it out. You were on foot untilyou fixed it "You just don't do shit like that." I did more sanding and shooting Acryllic lacquer than probably any 10 rear old around,lay it 10-15 coats deep, pitch black and not a wrinkle in the car. But the hot rods were sharp and fast and dead ass reliable and that pride made it worth it. No one said "Nice paint",it was just expected, the basic rule. To see them under the lights at Steak and Shake every Saturday night, then going out racing them like you stole them because you knew the tires were good, the brakes were right and suspension was tight, I'll have those memories forever. Him and my uncle "Lu" taught me that theres only one way to do it. Right. There was a beautiful car hop at Steak and Shake that they put upto doing something forme tocelebrate my birthday. She undid a couple of buttons, rolled up her shorts a couple of rounds, leaned over a fender pushing those sweater puppies together an lifted a leg from the kneee with a skate on.. My nuts dropped instantly. No pictures, just real life. And it wasn't some nasty thing, it was beauty, poetry, and a real gift.

And my career and ethos until I lost most of my sight was driven by that all of my life, right by people, right by material, no waste. It still is, I just cant work any more. I miss it. I get do little things though, so all's not lost. It never will be.

 

Turned 65 last summer,still having a great time with cars.When I was 16 I had a 34 ford 2dr sedan,We would put on the railroad tracks north of town.The car would stay in the tracks,pull the gas on a little and sit on the front fenders with our 22's and shoot rabbits.The car would stay on the tracks till the next rr crossing.Good times, simpler then,Wish I had the 34 back.Great back seat, heh heh

 

Am 65--graduated in 60-had a 57 Pontiac with tripower-pmts were $71 a month !! Relief milked and drove tractor to make payments. Ran it at Madera drags, Ballico and alot on the street-used to go to Fresno and look for races at Stan's drive-in or down on the main-there were alot of fast cars in Fresno back then and we raced some on Broadway and out on Thorne Ave. Made Lineman in 65 ($202 per week-wow!)and bought a 65 Impala--ran it in pure stock class-did pretty good. Have played with cars since then til now as time and money would allow. Have had our 55 for 35 years and my 57 Fuely on and off since 75 (have it back again). In High school we used to ride around out in the country and drink beer and shoot rabbits and coyotes and if the Sheriff caught us he would take our beer and tell us to go home and maybe call our folks-same if Cops caught you in town-would take our beer and tell us to go home-can you imagine that today??
In the High school parking lot almost every car had a rifle in it-I had a model 61 Winchester slid right up against the seat on the hump and no one cared--all the kids from the country did the same--no way today--you would go to jail. The hot rods were mostly Olds or Cad powered with a few Buicks as well-my buddy had a 50 Ford Bus. coupe with an Olds and Cad/LaSalle box that was pretty quick. Have alot of old pics but don't know how to scan them--Oh well, maybe I'll get my granddaughter to help me and post a few.

 

Yeah Junkie, folks today don't have a clue what a "beer joint" is..

 

Your right,Growing up myself in rural Tennessee we had a beer joint out on the edge of town called the hwy 10 roadhouse.It was a rundown square cinderblock bldg. with a dirt parking lot,had one small window with a PBR neon sign in it.As a teenager my dad told me to keep away from there,said they'll only cut you 3 ways over there:deep,wide,and frequently.....I stayed away

 

There is drag racing pretty much year round in Texas. I am sure the same can be said for Florida and California. I see a road trip in your future to check it out!

 

I'm 67. In our home town we bought our beer through the local cops. We would meet them at a local drive in under a big elm tree, give them 50 cents over the price of a six pack and they would go get our beer. We might have been 16 at the time.
I have a true story similar to Bob K's about the shifter deal. My brother in law had a custom 54 Chevy convertible with a 3 speed floor shifter in it. We were out cruising one night and another of our buddies wanted to drive the car so we switched drivers. This guy had a 62 Chevy hardtop with a 4-speed. We got to a stop light and he puts the car in what he thought was first gear and when the light turns green he nails it and smacks the car behind us real hard. We were not able to get away since the bumpers were hooked. Hell of a deal.
Another buddy of mine had a 66 Super Sport Malibu and had been drinking hard all night. Any way about midnight he leaves the local bar and grill with a hamburger in tow and down the road he goes. He gets about 6 blocks from the bar and runs into the rear end of a parked car. The wreck throws him forward jut as he is taking a bite of the hamburger and smacks his face and the hamburger into the windshield leaving pieces of the hamburger imbedded in the crack in the windshield. So the cops come to investigate the wreck and it just so happens the cop is a friend of Bill's(also one of the ones that used to buy our beer for us). So any way Bill convinces the cop that the parked car was parked to far from the curb so the accident was the parked cars fault. So any way the parked car gets the ticket and his insurance pays to fix Bill's car. Some times it pays to have friends in low places. Iwill never forget the pieces of lettuce and tomato hanging from Bill's windshield.
Later,
Dick

 

I'm 66 (for a few more months), so where to start? I'm a farm kid (still) and rememeber dirt (dust) roads that turned to sloppy mud when it rained. We listened to a battery powered radio for the news each evening, and when it started to get weak Dad would swap it for the one in the Chevy ('47 or'48). Sometimes he waited too long and it wouldn't have enough juice in that 6 volt to start it. When unexpected company came, Mom would have Dad kill a hen, and we ate GOOD with most everything raised on the farm. Got electric service in th late 40's, party line phone in the mid 50's, gravel on our country road about the early 50's. The first car I remember (vaguely) was a pre-war Studebaker. Later on we had a '50 or '51 Studebaker that Dad bought new, and bought a totally useless accessory for it- a 6" propeller! Somebody backed into it and it wouldn't spin, so a few weeks later, he put on an 8" prop! I started driving around the farm when I was 9 or 10 years old, and took my permit test in a '56 Buick Special 4 door hardtop, as did my two younger brothers. That car took a beating- it sure wasn't built for country roads and kids driving. I probably learned more about driving in an old '38 Chevy flatbed truck with bald tires, 'cause it could swap ends quicker than you could spit if it was the least bit slick, and it really didn't steer so much as it was pointed in the general direction. Late 50's, early 60's, gas was $.29 for regular and $.31 for ethyl. Smokes went up to 15 cents a pack unless you smoked Marvels which were 11 cents. Candy bars were a nickel except for the big Butterfingers and Baby Ruths- they were a dime. Our small town of about 500 had three restaraunts, a general store,two grocery stores (with butcher shops), two hardware stores, a lumber yard, two farm machinery dealerships, four churches, a Chevy dealership, a truck line, a bank, two auto/mechanic shops, four gas stations, a beauty shoppe, a barber shop, the telephone exchange, a public school (first thru 12), one tavern, a furniture/furnace store, an electriclal shop, two farm elevators, a watchmaker/jewelry shop, leather repair shop (former harness maker),and bank. Now there is one gas station/convenience store, a big farm equipment dealership, the bank, a bar/restaraunt,three churches, an antique shop, one farm elevator, and a fertilizer supply. Kids still "lay rubber", drive too fast, and work hard at "being cool". Hell, even engineer boots are coming back; blue jeans never went out of style, but some are rolling a cuff now.
Well, I've rambled enough, so I'll let some other Ol' Fart ramble on. Great Posts; excellent subject!

 

It's a small motor scooter. I have one now if you would like to see one.--TV

 

Doodlebugs....

http://doodlebugsyrmw.com/products.htm

 

That is funny!!!!

 

Just days shy of 60. Was 21 living in western Oklahoma rooming with a buddy of mine, custom painting cars in the garage apartment we lived in.

Ric had a 55 Chevy 4dr wagon with a 409 coupled to a tourqueflite, rally wheels and in shades of gray primer. We had gone to a neighboring small town to check out the local offerings of the opposite sex ,and after an joyable evening with the local ladies we headed home, a trip of about 20 miles on twisting, hilly two lane black top.

About half way home a new Firebird with four of the small town youth came screaming around us and slammed on the brakes trying to get us to pull over. Seems they didn't care for us sampling from the local herd. Now Ric and I may have been ugly but we weren't stupid so we passed them back and kept going. Here they came again, same routine pass us and hit the brakes.

After about four times Rics says "that's it, let's play!" and pulls up behind them, taps the bumper and floors it. The old 409 with both fours open pushed that Firebird at over a hundred for a good three miles and all they could do was steer. When the motor started to overheat from lack of air Ric backed off and they pulled to the side of the road (I assume to check thier underwear for deposits) , and we went home.

 

I'm 58 but have managed to stuff 78 years of living into those 58 years. I always grew up with older guys when I was a kid. I'd spend my summers in the Bronx with my cousin and hang out with his friends, all 6-8 years older the me. When I returned home to the Island, kids my age were just that, kids. I was dressing older then them, into rods and customs by the time I was 12 if not sooner.
Anyway, I had a chance at 14 to buy a running 1939 Lincoln Zephyr 4 dr. The guy that owned it, this was in 1964, said as long as you don't hot rod it you can have it for 35 bucks. Oh no, I'd never do that.
Rode my bike home and told my dad, I got this deal on a............he said, I don't want you bringing home junk. This car wasn't junk, believe me. So, I didn't buy it.
The next year I was helping my friend rebuild his flathead for his 49 Ford coupe, I asked him about his old Merc. He said, you want it? I said yeah, 50 bucks. It was rusted and rotted, no bumpers front or rear. Funny, a year before my dad said, don't bring home any junk.
Over the winter a friend and I rebuilt the Merc and it came out pretty darn nice seeing what we had to work with.

 

Well I'm seventy, been into hotrods for most of my life. Dad made sure I was out of trouble with the girls, so he got me my first car, 1926 Star, didn't run but it was mine. Then he got me a 30 Model A, and it ran. I was 12 and learned a lot on that one. Dad was not a mechanic but could fix anything and taught well. He used to say (learn how to do to do it the right way and then you can do it any way you want) My favorite story was in the 50s in Pgh, Pa. They started smoke control and you could no longer burn coal for heat, and since we were in the country there was no gas lines yet, so to heat our house Dad (worked on the railroad) had them dump truck loads of old rail ties over near the barn, made a huge saw to cut them, and of course my job was to haul them to the old coal cellar with the wheel barrow. Ha, That became near impossible for me, so dad brought the old 40 Chevy to the barn removed the back seats and we loaded the trunk and back seat area with cut wood. Then he looked at me and said WELL drive it down to the the house and unload it. WOW 13 years old and got my first driving lessons. He couldn't cut the wood fast enough, WAS HOOKED FOR LIFE. Ice man

 

I'll be 63 shortly and still smoking, a carton of cigs now cost more than my first two cars.

 

I quit in 1980, they were just over 50 cents a pack. I'm a cheap ass, I preferred to spend it on Jack Daniels, I believe it was about $7.00 a fifth if I remember right

I don't drink any more, but what is it now $20 or more? I'm still just a pup. I was making $6.40 an hour throwing beef around, damn good money for a freshly married 20 year old with a baby on the way.

 

I'm 62.5 and going. Hope to add at least 20 more to that and still be a HAMB'er! Not sure which one of us will go first, but it will be a good race.

Been doing this car thing since my first pedal car at age 3. Still having fun at it, so I think I will keep it up.

 

Just past 65. Minnesota farm boy, so driving started at age 10. Big old Allis Chalmers. Gas lever was on the steering wheel, with notches. So you set it and it stayed there. Brakes were two big hand levers, one for each rear wheel. Pull one and you could turn on a dime. To stop straight you had to pull evenly. I'd driven it a few times, no big deal. But then I drove it up the hill to the barn with a full load of hay on the trailer. Had to give it more gas to pull the hill, suddenly we were over the top and shit hit the fan. Going to fast, wrong angle to clear the corner of the barn with the trailer. I'm trying to downshift, back off the gas, pull both brakes and steer. I was short about 3 hands. I missed the barn, ran over dads fishing boat and trailer, tore out 60 feet of fence and killed a pig. My uncle happened to see the whole thing and was laughing so hard my Dad didn't do a thing. (He's still my favorite uncle, 85 years old and still chasing p........) Dad's gone now, but whenever Allis Chalmers would come up in a conversation (happens among farmers) Dad would give me that shit eatin grin and say
"'You used to drive our Allis"

 

TV wrote:

Betteroffalone wrote:

I never saw a Doodlebug bike, but when I was about 14 a guy I knew built a 9' look hydroplane out of plywood (from Popular Mechanix plans) and put a 25 hp Johnson on it. Kind of sat with the transom down and the nose up at idle but it was light and fast as hell. It was painted red and he called it the Doodlebug. It would go about 35 mph, and in something that small on water that is damn fast.

If he stopped to quickly, the backwash waves would come over the tramsom and flood the boat. If he then took off quickly it most of the water would go back out, but if not, he would occasionally swamp.

Boy, did we have a lot of fun with that little hydro!!! Here is one very similar to it:

 

I'm 68. The best old fart story I have at the moment is that I tried to read this thread all the way through, but I fell asleep!

Maybe I'll try again after a nap.

 

Hey I'm 68 I'll tell you how I got my 37. When I was 10 years old I was with my Dad we pulled int a small gas station somewhere near Reading Pa. There sits this 37 Ford, maroon paint, top was chopped, packard grille, fender skirts, and it was a tail dragger with flipper bar wheel covers, roll and pleated interior full race flathead. I said to my dad, sure would like to have that Hot Rod, he looked at me and said you never could afford it. The years go by and I'm 16 and I stop at local Junk yard near Pottstown there sits same 37 Ford for sale by now its covered with black primer spots of maroon paint showing through, interior greasy and pleated seat missing, had a 49 Olds. for power. They wanted $ 700 for it, which was to much for me in those days. It was soon sold thought I'd never see it again. Now I'm 19 it's 1959 and I'm working in a factory in Boyertown Pa. a friend said here your looking for a old hot rod. Well there's one one 2 blocks up this kid going in the Navy and wants to sell it. I go for a look and there sits my dream car all apart,body off frame engine in the corner, Packard grille lying in the dirt, How much you want I yelled out , $75 bucks without engine I'll take it be right back with money! So I borrow money from my Mom and she throws in extra $25 for the Olds. mill. I had it together in 2 weeks working outside and boy did that car burn rubber and turn heads. Now I'm 68 and still burning rubber and turning heads. Thats my story and I'm sticking to it, Hank

 

This is how my 37 Rod looked like in 1959.

 

I'm 62 and I remember the first time I wanted to tune my first car up a 55 ford and my friends father owned a gas station in the area well it was a two pump station with a pit outside to work on the cars. Well I bought all the parts to tune the car and asked how you changed the plug wires and cap since I never done one at that point, they said you just put the new cap on and put the wires from the old on the new so I did. They did not tell me about putting them in any order. When I finished I cranked the car over and was suprised by mutiple backfires. When I looked at my friend and his dad they were in tears from laughing so hard. Needless to say that was my first lesson on working on cars.

 

"My daughters boyfriend can't even change a tire, we went up there to STL, and my daughter's car had a flat and it had been for days. I was an asshole. I made my daughter change it, I taught her how before she got her driver's license, you think the three-toed sloth even helped. No he was busy playing X-box with his buddies. Give me a break"

Sorry mate, not to beat on him, but what a loser!! No dice, I'd tell your daughter to dump him, and FAST !!

Im 41 so not THAT old, but hell, expecting your girlfriend to change her own flat tire is WAYYY off base.

Rat

 

Did you mean 1969?