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

I to am 75 as of May 6 2013 ( u can check my Public profile ) and have a closet full of story's. My youngest son thinks I should tell the one of my new 1957 Ford Ranchero that had a factory installed 312 cubic inch engine, the only one that I know of. But for fear of getting someone at Ford in trouble I don't think that its a good idea!
But I will tell this one, when I was 15 years old my father and I when't to Brooke In. and he bought me a 1930 Ford Mod.A 2 door sedan and I drive it home, some 60 miles ( before expressways ) O ya Dad payed 50.00 for the car. As I did'nt have a drivers licences I couldn't drive it legally so I thought I would chop the top 3 inches. How hard can that be? I had every Car Craft mag. that was printed and if George Barris can do it I can. While cutting the door post I noticed some wood saw dust coming out, so I want in dads shop to revile the news to my father who had been watching out a window, when I told him that there was wood in the door post, his comment was, Ya what till you try to weld it back together( this was before wire feed welders ).
I did get it back together and learned how to use lead. George Reed

 

At 71 I`m happy to be above ground rather than below.But I`m also disgusted that I dont have a lot of ambition to finish my 48.

 

Im 69 and in my lifetime I paid $500 for a 57 Vette stripout & put a new 65 327/360 with a 4 speed in it. I bought a 62 Vette for $1000 no driveline, a 68 Z/28 with the blown engine in the trunk & a teak steering wheel for $500. I bought a 427/425 FE Ford motor with an aluminum T-10 {factory lightweight 63 1/2 galaxie} with reciept for $500 and put it in a 57 Ford Custom 300. You might have noticed that the prices have gone up a bit. My dad wouldnt let me trade the ratty 57 Vette for a mint black 32 ford sedan {we both would keep our drivelines}. Did a lot of street racing, life was good. Built 3 NHRA stockers and 1 SS 67 Fairlane 427/410 SS/E. Retired lineman and line foreman with a bad back. Hell of a run though, got a fine 26 year old son, a Marine 1st Lt pilot and a good wife, CPA with her own business, what else could you ask for. Life goes by fast, enjoy it while you can. On the minus side 2 divorces with cleanouts, oh well.

 

At 63 I guess I have reached the 60+,,

I'll play,,,by now you guys know I have a thing for 32 Fords,,,this story just might be the main reason behind my obsession.

Back in 1962 we had a neighbor that lived behind us on a corner lot,,Mr.Burton was his name,,never knew his first name and from the time I was 11 years old I cut his grass during the summer.

He drove a 53/56 Ford truck to work and had had some kind of accident and walked with a bad limp that's probably why I cut his grass.
Anyway,I would go to his barn and get what I needed to do his yard work and there half covered with a old canvas army tent was a 32 Ford 5-window coupe,

I always looked forward to entering that sacred tomb each summer until that day in early June he told me that my services were no longer needed,,,he explained that he was moving up north to live with his sister,,,he ask me did I want the lawnmower to go into business cutting other folks yards,,,I gladly went to the shed to retrieve the mower and gaze one last time at the coupe,,which had not moved the whole time we lived next to him.

I ask him was he gonna drive the old car to his sisters or pull it,,,His answer was,,No,son,I'm gonna have to sell the old gal,,,with that reply,,I fired back how much?

His answer was already established because 75 bucks came back as quick as I ask.,,,I'll buy it,I said.
He looked at me and said we need to talk to your dad,,,not wanting my dad to say no,,,I told mr. Burton I would talk to dad tonight when he gets home from work,,,

Next dad I sat outside Mr. Burton's front door,,it seemed to be forever,,but I knew he worked second shift and I didn't dare wake him up,,It just might screw things up.

Around noon he exited his house and ask how long had I been there and if I had discussed the sale with my dad,,I told him I just came over a few minutes ago and dad said it was ok with him,,,,

BTW,,I never once said a word to my dad,,I really didn't need the money,,I robbed my cigar box and with my grass cutting money,birthday money and my entire life savings I had enough money and some change,,enough money to buy the coupe and fix it up,,,Hey ,I was 12 years old,,,I didn't know what I do today.

So,,I handed Mr. Burton my hard earned cash and we proceed to unearth the coupe,,man,That car was nice,,original black paint,flathead V8,and all 4 tires were shot and rotten,,,but I had the biggest grin on my face as I fought with all my might trying to guide it as Mr. Burton pulled it behind his truck across his yard into my parents side yard.

I was the happiest kid in the world for about three hours,,,,

That was when my dad got home,,,,the first words out of his mouth was what was that junk car doing in our yard?,,,from there it got ugly,,,he called Mr. Burton,,,woke him up,,remember,,2nd shift,,he was a little more than annoyed,,he and dad got into a debate about not clearing it with him first and that I was 12 years old and had no business with a car and for him to come and get it out of his yard,,and if he wanted to,,,keep the money Danny gave you for lying to us both,,,and he would take care of me,,I knew what was gonna happen,,they don't call this part of the country the Bible Belt for nothing.

Heavy on the belt,,,,long story coming to a end,,,Mr. Burton gave me my money back and had a big laugh,,,a few days later both he and the car were gone,, never to be seen again,,,,

Many years later my dad and I talked about what had now become known as the ol' ford coupe incident and how he never dreamed that I would ever be able to restore and build cars from the ground up and how badly I wanted that car,,,,and how he was proud of me when people would stop by our business and ask about the different cars that
I would drive to work,,,,,,,,

At that time the 32 Ford coupes were already reaching unheard of prices,,and he just couldn't believe it.

A few weeks before he passed away the subject came up again,,he said I sure hope you find a ol' coupe like that one someday,,,,I told him,,it was probably a good thing he didn't let me keep it,,I would have made a hot rod and gotten myself killed in it,,he smiled and said,,Nobody will ever know son,,we can't go back,,but if I could,,,you would let to keep that car.

All you guys got is my word on this tale,,,all the players are deceased,except me,,,nobody knows the where about's of the 32 coupe,,,but I'm willing to bet the owner ain't 12 years old! HRP

 

tough break...figure the car was 30yrs old at the time,if my 12 yr old brought home a 1983 ford today with 4 flat tires, under those circumstances,id be hopping mad too

as for your story...reminds me of having of spoonful of your favorite food and dropping it in the floor right before it gets to your mouth

 

67 years young ,first car was 49 chevy 2 door sedan my dad helped me get . paid $50,00 for it . it had a rod bearing tapping and my dad told me to pull the pan and he would show me a trick..He made me do the work... It had shims between the rod and cap and he told me to remove a shim at a time untill the rod felt snug on the crank and then put one shim back in ...I did that for all 6 rods ,put the pan back on and it ran like a sewing machine ...for about 10 miles and blew up ... thats when I learned to put the oil dippers back on the rods facing the crank rotation so it will force oil into the rod bearing ..a tough lesson learned...My Dad sead...ya gota Remember how things come appart son ....I have built many engines since then and I owe it all to my Dad......

 

I'm not the oldEST on the board, but I'm oldER than I was last week; 73 now.

Since today's theme seems to be buying old cars years ago for next to nothing, I have 2 stories, both involving partnerships:

When I was 14, a buddy heard of a '35 humpback Tudor for sale cheap, and invited me to buy a share. We each put in $5 and the car was ours. Yep, $10 total. We were both dumber than stumps regarding mechanics, so we took stuff apart until we were over our heads, and eventually the city towed it away.

About 5 years later, another friend and I had a great scheme to build a cheater stock for the class they ran at the San Fernando Drags -- you could do anything you wanted to the engine and drivetrain, so long as it looked stock.

What prompted this was that we found a '37 Ford flatback Tudor that was very straight, had a nice interior and dash, but the engine was toast. $25 for the car. I had a halfway built 59L shortblock at home that was bored and stroked, ported and relieved, Isky cam, good start for a motor.

Part 2 was that the buddy's mom had a derelict '39 Merc convertible that didn't run, but seemed mechanically sound, so we bought it from her for another $10. That was going to provide all the remaining parts for the engine, juice brakes, synchro floorshift trans, and a Columbia!!

We needed a garage to work on it, so we rented one from a little old lady in WLA for $5 a month. Incredibly, this garage had a pit!

Fast forwarding, the story ended the same way as the '35. We ran out of money to buy anything more, got behind in the garage rental, and eventually everything was towed away. I can't help thinking back to the '39 Merc convert with a Columbia for $10; even unrestored, the car would be worth today about 1000x what we paid for it.

No happy endings to either story, but probably some useful sadder-but-wiser experience.

 

76,,,, Can't remember back that far

 

Don't know if I am the oldest at 76 , I suffer from CRS and don't even remember if I have already posted in this thread . However life is still good . Used to be sex , specifically - getting laid - that was the most important thing in my life , now it's the second most important thing , number one is now breathing . Finally retired last week , they hired a younger guy - hes 65 - getting used to not having to go to work will take a while . Tomorrow I'm going for a ride in my open wheel , no top roadster and going to a show on Sat. like I said life is good .

 

HRP---damn fine story. I had my first car at 15. Those were the days, buddy. 40FordTudor

 

I will be 71 Nov. 4th!

 

When this thread began nearly five years ago I was old. Now I'm older than dirt but still breathin and doing most things without any help. Sadly the cars I still have are sitting and resting because I no longer have the ambishion or energy. With this in mind, stop sitting on your asses reading these stupid posts and get out in the garage! Tomorrow may be here.... well tomorrow! I'll be 75 in a few short months.
Okay, I could tell enough true car stories to write a book but Ryan and a few others wouldn't like it. So here's just one to show where it all began...... Married my high school sweetheart in Oct 1957. She will be happily married 56 years in a few weeks.
The poor girl knew I liked old cars even while dating. While my perverted friends were lookin at girlie type magazines I was reading those little car magazines. I wanted a 1940 Ford coupe or a Model A coupe.
The next spring, 1958, I found a 1931 Model A coupe on the north side of town. We lived on the south side. Small town Illinois. Paid like $100, two weeks pay for it and drove it home. Bought an arc welder and a 1/2 horse compressor at Sears. How hard could this be?
Sure looked easy in those little books I was reading from high school on. The Model A wasn't really bad. Rust out around rear wheel wells and small amount on lower cowl. But the dash had lots of holes. I learned a lot about the temp settings on that stick welder. Turned a bunch of small holes into large holes but eventually there were no holes. If Bondo was invented I didn't know it. Learned how to use lead and a propane torch.
Anway, from that very first rod project that I never finished, I have always had several old car projects. Someone else wanted the "A" more than I did. I sold it and bought 1926 T touring which I restored . Boring.
As the years passed I did finally "almost" get my 1940 Ford coupe. Sometime around 1965 I bought a 1939 Ford coupe with a 283 Chevy in it. Still have the 39 Ford. Still not finished. But all these years I've had fun and had my dreams. If only the internet and the HAMB were around 50 years ago.

 

In '69 I was nineteen and a sophomore in college driving a new Charger and a '55 Chevy 150 with a nasty 327 4-speed set up for drags, it looked like shit but ran like stink. We raced Mo-Kan.

Anyway, we'd take the '55 out at night for stoplight drags or to go drinking in it on country roads. One night we were stopped out in the sticks for a piss next to some railroad tracks. One of the brain trusts with me said he thought the '55 wheels lined up with the width of the train tracks. Sure 'nuff did, we deflated the tires down to 10-15 lbs. and got it going down the tracks. Top speed was pushing it at 20 mph, 15 was better, it would steer itself. We cut through the countryside laughing so hard our sides hurt. Did this a lot, word got out about it and people would ask if they could go along, sure if you bring the beer. I'd get the Chevy going and then in second gear, placed a brick on the foot feed, (that's a term for you geezers) and it would idle along. The big sport was to climb out of the car and sit on a fender or use the windshield as a back rest while chugging along and chugging a beer. One time six guys are out of the car climbing around on it.

We'd take dates out and go "trackin". One favorite thing to do is stop on a trestle bridge over a ravine and open the doors and have the girls look down. They would squeel and scream, it was a riot.

One thing we had to look out for is the telltale sign of a train coming at you or one flying up behind, then you had to beat feet to the next crossing and get the hell off the tracks. We only did this at night, fewer train traffic and you could see the headlight a long ways away. I think we got seen a few times by the engineers or maybe the farmers reported us as we cruised through there yards but one night the railroad dick spotted us and threw his lights on. The dirt roads were laid out in square miles; as we approached an intersection you could see this guy flying at us, party lights flashing, huge rooster tail of dust. We went past him a few hundred feet before he hit the intersection. He had to drive to the next T intersection, take a right for a mile, take another right and try and beat us to the next intersection of track. Each time he would get a little closer and it wasn't gonna be long before he'd have the tracks blocked. No way, Jose. The next intersection we decided we had to go for it. I got the ole 55 up to about 25 mph and could see the cop was close and flying. I double clutched that bastard, crammed it in first, floored it and pulled in front of him. The rear tires furrowed into the gravel and dirt and the ass end came around and dropped down a steep shoulder and started to slide. All you could see was the headlights shining the tops of the trees and out of the corner of my eye I could see the passenger fender and door of the big Plymouth sliding next to us but he was up on the road. It was almost like a choreographed dance. Kept my foot planted, hit second and we dug out of the ditch and back on the road. Fishtailed the rear end ditch to ditch trying to throw as much rock and dust as I could going up the gears. Shut the lights off and drove as hard as we could praying we didn't break a bead on a tire. The whole time this guy is on the back bumper and someone says a headlight is out, then the next one, I guess rocks busted them and probably the windshield. He couldn't hang for long as there was so much dust that we could hardly see him and he didn't have any lights. Took some back roads to the dorm, parked, took the license plates off and threw a bunch of blankets over the car and parked my buddies cars around it. Our trackin days came to an end.

 

Sting Ray of all the stories I've heard this is a first. You were crazy! Wished I could have went with you!

 

I am 71 but still work on cars and still have an 18 year old frame of mind.I got out of the service in 66.I missed a lot of car stuff with friends back here,but had a blast in California going to Bakersfield,L.A and all over California.Ok, i am home from the service and start where i left off,cars.I brought back a 56 Chevy i towed with a towbar from California to St.Louis using a 60 Chevy 283 powerglide.Now a days i wouldnt dream of a trip like that,but we did what was perfectly normal at the time.A bunch of friends would hang out at a local drive in(not saying which).The manager was a real piece of work,he was new and would not let anyone out of the car and if you were through eating with an emty tray on the door you were asked to leave.Thats all fine,but it kept getting worse so we decide a little revenge in order.We cococt a plan to get even by one guy to take his good old time parking while we were in the seond car pouring a gallon of white house paint through the floor boards of the second car.Now while this parking fiasko was taking place a long line of cars was behind and wanting in.Well we were the first in and went all the way around the drive in and left the area for 15 or 20 minutes laughing at our "American grafitti "type stunt.We came back through about 20 minutes later to see a 5 foot wide trail of white paint being tracked through the whole drive in parking lot.The manager was out there so mad he couldnt even make sense,i mean livid mad.He walks over to my brother who was the car in front of us making a big deal about parking,and had no paint on his tires.The manager asked what went on and why no paint on his tires.Reply,didnt see a thing just eating a hamburger.

 

Bring the beer and you're in.

Actually it's a wonder I'm still padden around above the grass.

 

Now that sounds like a good idea. Whoever survives can write another story!
My wife is afraid of RR tracks. Especially train trestles. We used to swim in a river with a spring hole next to a RR trestle. Seems like her high school girlfriend and others were on the trestle when a train came along. That girl froze and didn't jump in the river. Train killed her instantly.
So I'll bring the beer and you bring the young girls.

 

My dad is in his late 60s and tells me about when he was in high school him and a few buddies took a road trip from Oklahoma down to west Texas to visit some friends. They took his buddy's brand new 68 Chevelle 396 4 speed car. Anyone who has ever driven in that area knows it is miles and miles of flat straight road between towns, and they decided to see what that thing would do. Flat out the speedo was showing 140 and he said they just cruised along at that speed for miles and miles, the telephone poles were a blur! They came up close to a town and decided to slow down a little bit. His buddy in the back seat asked how fast they had been going and my dad said "140"...his buddy goes "man, going 70 now sure does feel slow" to which my dad replied "Ernie...we are going 115..." He talks fondly of hot rodding back in those days when times were simpler and cars were cars.

 

i'll be 72 nov 3rd

 

Hell, my mind is still 19. Its the rest of me that's 71. First time at Bonneville back in about 1988 or so, I stepped around a corner of a trailer and there was the coolest motorcycle streamliner one could imagine. It had a body split down the center. Photograph one side and you see the streamlined body, the other side and you see the workings. It looked really old. After reading the sign next to it, I learned it was driven by a Kiwi named Burt Munro. I didn't go back the following year, but I have been back every year since, 27 times and counting. I read the book about Burt Munro, and I bought a CD of the movie. The people make the place special, and the history is the best. What do I have in my garage now? I'm putting a 514 big block in a Fairlane with a C 6. Just to cruise and then sell.

 

Great stuff guys...keep um coming,and sting ray???what can I say....Ive got a feeling you've got a lot more stories to tell

 

turn 65 next March, still fly over for LARS each year. As long as I can walk will keep doing it. Just arrived home after picking my wife up from shops in our coupe. Regards

 

I think we're finding the oldest computer users, not the oldest hot rodders.

 

I'm 67. I started building a 29 roadster at age 14 from gathered parts. Channeled, z'd ,suicide front, 3/4 race flathead. Hacksawed everything and eventually needed someone to weld, so took it to the local blacksmith. His rate was $6.00 hr. Every time I went there to work on it, I'd ask what I owed him so he wouldn't get too far ahead. He always put me off about the money. This went on for about a year or so. When the welding was done, I went up to pick up the car with quite a bit of cash- I thought maybe $500- 600. He said he'd put a bill together, but take the car. Never sent me the bill. Finally, before I moved away, I went to square things up with him. He wasn't home, I went to his house and explained the situation to his wife. She said "Henry isn't going to charge you anything. He likes to help the young people when he can.

 

I'm 76 built my first hot rod at 16. Have built many since. Here is a picture of one of my first it is 31 chev with a hot 261. It was not complete in the picture, but is the only one one I have. Here is my last one a 30 Model A pickup with a flat head 39 V8 Ford engine. and one of my roadster which now has a 51 flathead V8

 

some how I got the wrong picture above.

 

Geeze Kenny; I'm 71, or is it 72? And I can't remember ANYTHING!

 

I am 94....just kidding I never win anything so I lied!

 

I am 66 and graduated in '65. I grew up near Dallas and, for years, bought gas for around 20 cents a gallon. This was real leaded regular, not the clear Coleman fuel we then paid pennies per gallon for. (No wonder cruising was so much a part of our lives.) I had gotten a nice camera and saw this sign at the gas station. I was so shocked, I went back home, got the camera, and snapped this shot, BECAUSE, I was sure gas could NEVER be this high EVER again.