Hot Rods Any father and son stories out there?

I grew up with a father who loved to work on cars....his love was older Mercedes Benz's and diesel engines were his p***ion...

I loved oval track racing and street rods and mini trucks too...so we never really talked the same language...I was buying and selling old heaps since I was like 14/15 years old....dad would help out if I asked him but his heart was not in it...

Dad has been gone since 2001...so a long time..

I have a 39 year son and he is not into anything old car like...

So any guys and gals out there who parents or whose kids are into the same hot rod type stuff?

I would love to hear some stories...because I don't have any...

MikeC

 

I don’t have any, either. My old man viewed cars as an appliance to go from one place to another. My late youngest son was a gearhead like me, I helped him from time to time, but mostly had to keep after him to put my tools back after he borrowed them! I’m still occasionally finding a socket or wrench buried up in the yard where he lost it, and he’s been gone since 2008. Sure miss him…

 

My Dad went drag racing with me from "78 -'90 , l don't think he missed more than a couple of races in all that time . For several years we used his truck and slide in camper as our tow vehicle, most of the time packed with friends . After the races we would stop on the way home and camp over night , and my wild friends would party pretty hard , he never complained .

 

Dad tried to teach me how to use a slide rule but I was too interested in mechanical things. He used to fall asleep driving...that's a scary movie on a cross country trip

 

My dad was a UAW Master Mechanic and Machinist. He owned a shop in the Bay Area. He called it a Speed Shop but it was really just a shop where if you had the money you could *buy speed. "Speed costs money, how fast ya wanna go?" He did not peddle hot rod parts.

He made a living making things go fast. Mostly cars, but if he knew you (you were one of his club brothers) he would build your bike. Not on regular business hours.

So a story? The summer I turned 7 he was taking me to Portland, Oregon to spend the summer. Friday evening he picked me up with my little suit case. He needed to freshen the engine in his roadster (a 364 nailhead) before we drove to Portland. So we drove to the shop and a bunch of his cronies showed up and the rebuild was on. Most of them were just drinking (and other stuff) and cussing and telling stories. Last thing I remember was sitting on the bench talking to a guy from Oakland and taking sips of rum from his gl***. (they were all 20th century hot rod and motorsackle guys not all touchy feely like new millennium guys)

I woke up on the creeper the next morning, wrapped in the man from Oakland's jacket and covered with an old blanket. One of the men said, "hey the kid's up." he stuffed a donut and a cup of coffee in my hand. The old man lit the roadster and began tuning. We were on the road within the hour. Drove straight through to Portland.

The last of the men in that shop that Friday night died last July. Dad has been gone since '03.

Funny thing, about 25 years later I needed to go to the Portland area for a funeral. My bike was running fine but I decided to go in an old Ford coupe that I owned. I had collected all the parts to rebuild a caddy 331 for the coupe. I had a shop in the Bay Area at the time. So on a Friday night I started screwing the mill together. A bunch of my cronies as well and my dad and the man from Oakland showed up. Most of them were just drinking and stuff and cussing and telling stories.

Saturday morning there was no kid on a creeper, but the kid from the original story fired the caddy and began tuning. he was on the road within the hour.

All but one of the men that were in the shop that Friday night are gone now. I'll probably out live him.

*buy speed not buy some speed. Dad did not peddle dope.

 

Sure why not.
Father was mechanic minded, had a pal that rescued Model A s. In early '50s we would roam the hills valleys and even creek beds of Bucks county Pa.
Mom gave him walking papers in '56
In '59 he moved from local route delivery jobs to OTR in day cab tractors. When he left he handed me a copy of Hot Rod magazine.
StepDad-Pops was a life long grease monkey. Never a mechanic just service and gas island.
His input was to not let the other guy beat you out at a light. He started me driving at 15, a year before I got a license.
His brother owned a Gulf station where I apprenticed from 14 to age 20.
Mom drove the wheels off everything she could and was often called 'Cowboy'
When I got a one owner 57 210-235 6 cyl P-glide, Pops hooked me up with a guy who made it bored out 283, 3 speed.
We never had the son father thing, more like a buddy. I will however always remember the day I borrowed his Chevelle wagon.
Standing outside I watched him go to work in my 57. At the end of the block, He stopped for the stop sign. As he pulled away I was g***ed to hear the quad sing out all barrels, a quick pause and again as he banged second.

 

My Dad was a great mechanic, learning the trade on his own as a boy and perfecting in on the USS Enterprise CV-6 working on airplanes during WWII. He taught me “ how” to work on anything. See my statement in my byline. He showed me how to over haul my Cushman in about 1962 then we rebuilt a 312 T bid and put it in his 56 Ford pickup. I still have that truck! Then we rebuilt a 430 Mel and put it in my 55 Ford Fairlane!
Then when I had my son we built an OT vehicle from the ground up! The after he was grown he/we built a Harley Night train out of a 76 Confederate Super glide. His son went on to Heat and air….not much interest in cars! His son is still too small…..but I’m hoping!





Bones

 

I was lucky enough to have a gear head for a dad. Circle track racing, drag racing, go-kart racing, hot rods and customs – he did it all.

Dad bought a 69 Mustang fastback because he wanted the top-loader 4-speed out of it. I was 16 and had just gotten my driving license so he decided I was the lucky person to steer it as he pulled it the 30 miles down a state highway to our home. About 10 miles from our town the hood flies open and it lies across the windshield. We are rolling down the highway doing 60 mph and I can’t see ****. No battery so there is no horn to honk so I start weaving back and forth trying to get his attention. He finally stopped when we got to town at the first stop sign he came to. He walked back to the Mustang to see how I was doing. I asked him didn’t you see me weaving to get your attention that the hood was laying on the windshield? His reply – yep, that had to be a pretty exciting ride for ya wasn’t it?

Dad bought a 1947 Ford sedan an hour west of town. My younger brother had just turned 16 so dad had him steer it while he pulled it home with a chain. And this was on Interstate 80 in 1978! Try that today and see how far you get before being pulled over! Apparently steering a junk car home on a chain at high speed was a rite of p***age in our house.

 

Yeah....my son and I just got back from a cruise to Mexico.
It was fun. We saw no hot rods there....

 

My dad never pulled me but he did roll an AC Cobra over my foot once and laugh about it. Did not really hurt my foot.

Good stories.

 

Until I was 7, there were always 2-3 midyear vettes in the garage. Created quite an impression. They all got sold to generate funds for real estate.....in 1983. My dad and I joke now about the timing.
He's a restorer, impalas now.
I've always built for performance ,street / strip cars, never a dedicated race car.

We line up on a lot of things, except timing of when we build stuff. Never really built a car together. I still can't convince him to swap cams in anything

 

Dad was never a hot rodder, But worked on everything we owned to save money since they had 5 kids. He had all the time in the world to teach me about cars, even if it was past his ability. Like rebuilding the engine on my first car to get a better car for less money. my son on the other hand has some interest in old cars, not like me. There is some hope we did 3 hot rod power tours together.

 

My dad was a mechanical genius, but a boat guy. Old wood boats, so I grew up around that. I actually bought the shoebox cause dad had Parkinsons and could no longer get into the boat, but he could the car. He p***ed 4th of July year before last.

 

I have one, read my tag line!

 

Have 2 sons…both are gearheads. I guess I won the lottery, or feel like it anyway!

 

My Dad loved anything mechanical (no training just learned on his own) . When I was 12 he built something like a midget racer for me. It was all hand made and fabricated. A friend made the body and painted it. It had a German Ford Flathead four sit cross ways in the rear with a belt clutch and chain drive. Damn that thing was fast. When I turned 16 he found a 37 Ford 2 door slant back with a blown engine. We literally worked under a shade tree and put a late model Flathead in it and hydraulic brakes. I drove it all through high school.

Fast forward 40 years and I had a son 13. We built a 32 3 window 350/350. I wanted him to learn something and to experience working and building a car We finished the car when he was 18 and took a road trip 10 days, 9 states, and 4,000 miles. Something neither of us will ever forget.

 

My Dad was not a gearhead but he got me hooked on cars. In the early 50's he worked for a loan company right out of college and his first job was as a repo man. He had a 4 door Chevy company car and a tow bar. Starting at about 3 years old he would take me on repo's with him. We played a game to see who spotted the target car first. He usually let me win but we had fun. More than once I would be playing with kids in their front yard while Dad was in the house repoing the family car. Times were different then.
Later on when I was 10 or 11, I learned to work on cars. Again, my Dad was not a mechanic but his friend Joe was. Unfortunately, Joe weighed 300+ and was not very mobile. He and Dad would sit in the driveway and Joe would instruct me what to do. I changed a water pump on a '57 Chevy 6 when I was 10 years old. Many more repairs happened on that '57 before I was a teenager.
Dad took me to all the drag strips and dirt tracks in the North Texas area because he knew I wanted to go. I saw Bobby Langley run at Caddo Mills in the late 50's.
I was into motorcycles and cars through my teens. He didn't get involved but he always supported me. He did tow my first car home for me with a rope. A '57 Chevy 150 2 door sedan.
My son was into it as a teen but outgrew it once he got into college. He lived in Washington with his mother so we didn't get a lot of quality time until he moved to Texas. Both of my grandsons, aged 20 and 8 are into it big time. The 20 year old has a 4th generation '72 Chevy 3/4 ton camper special in process in my garage. The 8 year old is just getting started but he does love a good looking hot rod. Unfortunately, he lives in Washington with his mom, my daughter, so we don't have a lot of time together. He has his mother take pictures of the local cars and send them to "Pawpaw Texas".
Since 2018 I have been running a '49 Ford XO/PRO car at Bonneville. My 20 year old grandson and his dad, my son are part of the crew.
Four generations of Dads and Sons. There is always hope!!

 

My dad wasn't a car guy during my lifetime, but played with quite a few when he was younger. I don't really know where I got it, but I had the bug from the time I got my first Hot Wheels and crawled around on the floor making engine noises. Out of my kids, my oldest son has the bug big time, bought his first car at 13 as a rolling shell and was making p***es at the dragstrip with it a week after he got his license. When he moved out I lost my best car buddy. He still comes around to help me out with stuff, but it's not the same.

Devin

 

My son and I index and bracket race together.
Today we had breakfast together and spent the day wrenching on off topic race cars. Best day of week ever
He is 28 and still not married so I’m trying to spend as much time as possible with him doing car stuff while he still has time available.

 

I’ve tried to teach my son everything I know and more. Our hot rods are edsels and a few OT cars. But he’s learning. Not many 17 year olds that can do drum brakes without supper-vision. He’s not much for speed but I think it’ll come around. Luckily so far he doesn’t care for the beer. I hope to keep him off of that. I’ll post current pics of his personal car and ones he’s worked on.

 

As a matter of fact me and my pops are waiting for our 41' Chevy truck to come home from MAC SPEED & CUSTOM. My Dad bought the truck in 1961,the year is I was born. As I grew old enough to work on the truck with my Dad we hed given it a minor restoration. Skip ahead about forty years and we're at it again. We re having a four speed with overdrive installed along with a ten bolt with posi,disc brakes at every corner,new exhaust.12 volt conversion with new electrical,driveshaft,new fuel tank.And a four inch drop axle. It should be home end of Feb. That is when me and him will do all the final touches (weather stripping,bright work etc. etc. My pops is 85 and I'm 61 but we still carry our love for our Chevy and for each other.

 

I guess I am sort of third generation to some extent and my two boys would be fourth. My grandfather was a mechanic because he had to be, but also taught me how to work on lots of stuff. My dad was an engineer for GM and painted Corvettes somewhat on the side. He always had vettes when I was a kid and rebuilt a few. We went to Bloomington every year with several of his buddies. Then, both my brother and I are into old cars and did some drag racing when we were younger. Now, both my boys are into this hobby as well and have old stuff. Seems it is somewhat genetic in our family.

Edit: Found a pic of me next to one of my dad’s vettes that he bought wrecked and fixed.

 

My dad hated working on cars. He was a mechanic in a coal power plant. At age 7 I was changing the oil in our 66 Satellite Sport Coupe. He hated me because I loved cars. We never got a long when I was working on cars. Unless he needed something done. I had to learn about cars from my neighbors and on the street. Same way I had to learn about women. You guys that had dads that would work on cars were lucky.

 

I have always said that my son has an old Soul. He grew up at swap meets, car shows, and rod runs. I do not have a particular story, because for thirty-four years he has been next to me for all our adventures and miss adventures. I have told the story of how the two of us threw a 56 Chevy together in ten days just to drive hundred miles to a rod run.
A very good friend of mine was kind of a grumpy old Batchelor, who did not really care for young children. However, he always liked John, going so far as to donate parts for John's high school car. We still attend swap meets and rod runs together, and rode with me on a Route 66 trip. Sorry, that I do not have a better story than this, so maybe pictures will suffice. Last picture is John's first drag p***.

 

Every night is a hotrod story around here. My kid and I are always in the shop, working on something cool.

 

I was about 4 years old at the time my dad painted his early 50s Willis pickup orange and put a ford flat head in it with straight pipes he took my older brother and me to town for a hair cut l thought it was the coolest thing. About the same time he was changing out a clutch in his 59 ford F100 in a pit he dug and balancing the big 4 speed on his head and guiding it in and wile asking me to hand him tools. Another time my younger brother (high planes drifter on the hamb) and I decided to hotrod his new riding mower with some painted scallops and wiring the governor open. It didn't go so well for use we had to mow the yard with a old push mower the rest of the summer good times.

 

I'm lucky.
My dad worked at Ford Lima Engine Plant for 30 years. Died in the wool Ford guy and collector (hoarder).
I literally had 98 vintage Fords in my back yard as a playground. He took me to Hershey and Carlisle and any other swap meet since I was old enough to be tolerable. Had me helping him rebuild flatheads when I was just a tyke. Took me to dirt races and drag events. Helped me do my first driving car...a '61 Falcon. I loved every minute of it and couldn't get enough.

He p***ed away last year at 86 years of age. I loved my old man.