I grew up in a racing family, I was destined to be a Carnut. My first driving experience's, I got to sit in Dad's Midget race car seat when rolling on the trailer and in seat going to State Fair Park, 8 blocks from our house, 4/5 years old, I was driving the wheels off it. LOL. Then when 12/13 years old my sister, Mother and I drove to New Mexico to visit older brother at the Air Force Base, a Long ride in a Rambler American station wagon, Mom did not drive so my sister had me help her drive, not much traffic back then, then at 15 sometimes I would cut school and go with my sister, she traveled for her job weekly around Wi., so at 16 I had No trouble p***ing my driving road test. I miss my sister and my Mom, both left this world too soon. First Motorcycle rides, My Uncle Chet had Harleys, he drove Dad's racer, I and my cousin Randy rode in the leather saddle bags, then when older front and back until we got to big, around 12 or so the, neighbor's son came home from service, bought a Harley and a 57 Chevy BelAir, My first car avatar 57 Chevy 210 sedan, he took me cruising with the car and I rode ***** on bike when his honey had to work, another early cruising story memory, a school buddies Mom was dating a Hot Rodder, he had a 49/50 Olds coupe big tires, Loud, cool car and we went to Leon's custard, something I did in later years. My first motorcycle, 74 Honda 750 added the Vetter package as I like the cruiser look, then I purchased a new Honda Goldwing Aspencade, Full dresser with about $3000 in chrome add on's, accessary lights. I built model cars, first time a disaster, in time pretty good, I customized my Schwinn bicycle, painted it 2 times, 8/9 years old my first attempt at building racers, s**** wood with roller skate wheels front, wagon wheels back, steered 2x4 with feet and rope, lost some skin racing down the hill we lived on. My first street drag race in my avatar, what fun and excitement that was. Then my first time driving Dad's Midget racer, Wow, I loved racing from the start to the finish of my 21 years as a participant, driver, car owner, owner/driver. My first new pro racing engine, my first trophy dash, my first win, my first complete new race car ch***is and engine, first win with my racing cylinder heads, my design, patterns, castings completed in my shop, my engine ***embly, a Very Big accomplishment for me. The first time being a champion car owner BMARA, score card, 2x champ owner, 0 x times as a driver, a lot of firsts in 21 years of racing. My first Hot Rod coming back to hobby cars after racing, a 29 Highboy Roadster. what fun and reasonable $$, then a 32 Ford 3 widow, my best Hot Rod, next, a mild Kustom 51 Merc. The car hobby for me is perfect, no stress involved, only the $$ you want to spend, only as much work as you want to do, the people are great, Now old, and I have OT hobby cars to cruise and a few shows, comfort is my game now.
Not my first influence but two extremely memorable experiences involved my grade school pals' two older brothers' cars, a 1964 Studebaker Avanti and a 1966 Sunbeam Tiger. I was twelve years old in 1966 and had only ridden in my grandmothers' 1954 Chevy because we actually never had a car. My friends' dad was killed in a car wreck so the family came into money, his two older brothers were in the Navy and when they got out they wasted no time spending their inheritance. The Avanti was the first fast car I got to ride in, I recall seeing the speedometer at well over 120 mph, plenty fast but I wasn't scared as it was only going in a straight line. The Tiger was the scary one because we were on a windy country road, I don't recall ever seeing the speedometer but I'm sure it was like riding in a Shelby Cobra. When I got my H.O. racetrack in 1967 the first car I bought was a Cobra as the one brother had Sports Car Graphic magazines laying around and they were always showing them. I am a little surprised that I got interested in drag racing instead of roadracing but after having attempted to make a go at the drags and realizing the wages of an apprentice machinist wasn't going to cut it I decided to go shifterkart racing as the seat time to dollar ratio far exceeded that of drag racing.
When I was about 5 I had an old bicycle. The metal seat came broke off from the seat post. My dad called his friend Bill and he picked me up in a red oxide Model A Coupe we drove back to his house and he welded the seat and seat post back together with an old stick welder. He drove me back home in the Model A and fixed my bike. Liked Model A's ever since. That was one memory. Another was looking at Christmas lights in my dads 52 Chevy. Of course Hot Wheels and Slot Cars my dad bought me.
Robert Taylor sat down for an interview with me a few years ago, he owns Shamrock Speed Shop in the middle of Nowhere, Texas … A fascinating guy with an interesting background … @ Jim
1960 I was 3 years old. We lived in a big two-story duplex in downtown Rochester Michigan one block off Main Street situated kitty corner from the big old Catholic Church. The house was owned by Clarence and Alice Nedrow who also lived there with their three teenage boys and daughter. The boys were greasers. Black leather jackets, slicked hair, t-shirt and jeans, pointed shiny black "fence-climber" shoes... and hot rods. From our porch steps I often enjoyed sitting and watching cars go by. I somehow knew which were the older ones and there's no doubt they interested me. I also enjoyed sitting out there on Sunday mornings watching all the cars pull up and line the streets, driven by churchgoers. Plenty of '40s '50s and early '60s vehicles. Rarely, but sometimes something from the '30s. This is the incident that really did it for me. Or maybe to me. LOL One morning while the men were at work, my mother was visiting with Mrs. Nedrow, talking, drinking coffee, playing cards. I was toddling around the kitchen. All all of a sudden there was a roar out in the driveway. I knew what it was and immediately ran to the kitchen door. I pulled back the sheer curtain to see the youngest Nedrow boy Joe and a couple of his friends under the hood of a black late '40s Ford Coupe. They were revving up the flathead V8. I was like, "Yes!" Immediately, my mother snapped at me. "Ricky... get away from that window." I think she was afraid I'd be influenced by the young hooligans. Too late. The mold was set. Forever.
I blame HOT WHEELS.... the first car I rode in was a 53 Chevrolet 4 door, which could have something to do with my like of 49 - 54 Chevrolets. I saw Easy Rider when it came out and got into choppers when I was like 10, asked for a subscription to "Street Chopper" but my mom got me "Street Rodder" instead. I often wonder if she did that on purpose to steer me away from Choppers.
I was a 12 year old kid and already liked cars and could tell you what most of them were when riding around with my dad in his '56 Chevy sedan delivery. I really got hooked one Saturday when I went with my mom to Bryants drug store and picked up my very first Hot Rod Magazine. At 12 years old seeing Dean Lowes red pickup I knew I wanted to build a hot rod pickup, growing up I built a lot of different cars but eventually I did build a pickup. As crazy as it sounds a few years ago I was digging through boxes from my parents house and I found that very first hot rod magazine and talked to fellow Hamber Dean Lowe and he signed the magazine for me. HRP
Moved into a new subdivision at 15 years old. Kid down the street had a '40 Ford coupe. That started a lifetime of hot rods for me.
When I was a kid, my dad took me to the Great Western Exhibit Hall in East L A (now known as the City of Commerce) where Atlantic Blvd and Eastern Avenue split to see the custom car show. I was dazzled by the angel hair displays and the chrome and just about everything else. So, in short, my dad was the reason I am car poor now!
My older brother is 9 years older than me. He bought a new 1957 Plymouth Belvedere with the 301 motor that had the 4-barrel carb, dual exhaust and torqueflite transmission. I was 10 at the time. My father built a house on Long Island (we lived in Brooklyn back then) and on weekends we would go there. In those days we would take the Southern State Parkway which had a lot less traffic than today. I would sit in the front, and my brother would slide over closer to the door and he would let me steer for a while. He had his foot on the gas while I held the wheel. I really liked that car, and I said I would get one when I got older. The car I have now was going to the crusher back in 1964 and the same brother helped me get it.
Born 1954, always liked cars, built models. When 12yo, moved to Bakersfield CA next door to a dirt track racer with a winning '58 T-Bird. He saw me at the end of his driveway and waved me in. I became 'the crew'. Knew day one, I liked uncorked V8s. He took me to 1967 Fuel & Gas March Meet at Famoso. Saw all the big boys and went in the pits. I love nitro! HOOKED FOR LIFE. My first car at 16yo was a tri-power, 4sp, 1966 GTO. Still have a hot rod.
I come from a very much non car family. Nobody! So it wasn’t my environment. I don’t know how it all started, but I always loved watching racing on TV and playing with my Hot Wheels. I do distinctly remember, probably about in the late 60’s, and me being maybe 5 years old, asking my dad if he could put some STP in our family car, “It the racer’s edge”. Probably saw the commercial while watching a race.
When I was a very young kid, watching the Figure 8 races at the Speedrome, East Indianapolis, which was very near my Grandparent's house. Grandpa worked at IH, as a factory electrician. Most memorable, stock car racing in the old Hula Bowl in downtown Honolulu when I was in grades 2-8. My dad was stationed at Pearl Harbor from 1956-62. The modifed racing there was just fantastic. Go #55! (I doubt anyone here remembers his name, or that there was stock car races in Hawaii). Finally, the modified stock car racing in Waukegan, IL during the mid-1960s. Frames knows. Jonny Reimer and Miles Melius were persistent winners, invading from SE Wisconsin.
A guy lived up the street from me building a rail dragster, I always went up his driveway when he was working on it, was maybe 12. I did a little polishing and cleaning that was about it. One day Kansas John Wiebe showed up with his dragster, I was in heaven when I saw his dragster. He let me polish up his rims and even gave me a tee shirt. That pretty much did it for me. Oh and there was a guy about 5 years older than me down the other way when I was 15 that always had cool cars that he let me help him with. He taught me when things go south stop and have a beer, not sure if that was the best advise.
No real events for me. I was born in 1950 into a non car crazy family. My dad was one who bought a new car every 3-4 years, and can't recall him doing much to his cars, even as far as maintenance goes. But we seemed to have plenty of car guys in our neighborhood as I grew up, and I rode my bike through the usual places I knew guys were always building cars and simply stayed outside the open garage or driveways watching the work going on, and listening to their conversations. Our neighbor right next door was one who did more car work than anyone else around, so I didn't need to go too far if he was building something. His son was the same age as me, and had been helping his dad since he was probably 6 years old. I started helping around 8 yrs. old, and had my first vehicle at age 13. My dad encouraged my interests in cars, and often took me to the local Goodwill store on Saturday to look through stacks of car magazines and pick out any I wanted. They were dirt cheap as the stores wanted them gone, and I think we paid a few cents a piece for them. My floor around the edges of my bedroom were stacked 3 ft. high with car magazines and I spent most evenings in bed reading through them over and over. I had 3 brothers and although they thought cars were cool, they never got into working one them much, and never owned a true hotrod. If I didn't look so much like my dad and brothers I'd wonder who my dad really was? LOL
Hello, When I was 16, I had a choice of two cars. One was to use my brother’s 58 Impala, since I was the primary driver at the time. I had to take my brother to a lot of doctor’s office appointments for burn treatments and he could not drive. So, it was up to me. Then I also bought a 1940 Flathead powered Ford Sedan Delivery. That was my surf hot rod. I was completely into surfing and also hot rod racing/cruising. So, I had options. The first time I drove my flathead powered sedan delivery to Baja Mexico, that was an eye opener. As we drove through the border check point at 2 a.m. we did not get stopped and checked. But, the different country and culture was so much different than we were used to in So Cal. One day, the surf was down and no one wanted to go to town for some extra supplies. So, I drove myself to town. Upon coming to a bunch of shops along the highway, I stopped to check out the surf. I parked in front of a big gl*** window of a pool hall, beer store. Around the back was the beach below and the harbor. The harbor had waves and no one was riding the surf. The opening entrance was facing the direction of the swell and as the swell came across the whole open harbor, it ended up behind the pool hall. So, I went up to my sedan delivery and got my surfboard to catch some waves. After about an hour or so, I was so tired from catching multiple waves and paddling, so, I collapsed on the beach for a nap. Then as I wandered back up the cliff to my sedan delivery, I wanted something to eat. So, I went inside of the pool hall. They had some odd looking sandwiches and some dried fish. As I was sitting down to eat the sandwiches and dried fish, the old guys were playing pool. It was a rousing game and continued, despite those guys being terrible pool players. So, after my late afternoon snack, I asked if I could play pool. They put up some money on the side border of the table and kept pointing until I brought out some money. In matching what they put down, the game started. I made a run of several balls and then sat down. The old gruff guy made his run of several balls and now, it was my turn again. Now, it was down to several left for each side. He missed one and now I had a chance to end the game. I ran three more and had the 8 ball left. All of his friends wanted me to lose, so they could collect the money and buy more beer. My limited Spanish from high school cl***es worked somewhat. Jnaki By this time, my friends were worried I had gotten into a car accident and was killed or in the hospital. I was gone all day, by myself. But, I was having a great time playing pool and winning. Finally, I won and got a stack of money at the betting pile started to get bigger as we each sank balls and had our turns. But, I noticed the atmosphere of me winning this stack of money had not gone over to well with the old guys sitting around the room, watching. So, after a few minutes of counting the money, I gave it to the bartender to buy beer for all of the old guys in the room near the pool table. Yes! Once the beer arrived, they all laughed, while several came over to thank me and gave me a big shoulder tap of thanks… So, being a good customer, traveler and smart teenager pays off in a strange country far from home. YRMV Note: When I finally drove back to our surf camp location on a cliff top, everyone wanted to know where I had disappeared for the whole day. I told them of the hidden surf spot behind the pool hall, the great food and fun locals. They all wanted to go there early in the morning the next day. I had found a secret surf spot hidden from travelers due to the buildings along the highway.
I had the good fortune of meeting the mouse, Miles Melius after my racing deal was done at the end of 91. He was a local hero, I saw him win Many races growing up with my Dad, a huge modified fan, they raced 5/6 days a week in the Milwaukee area. In later years, 2001+ I used to go to Slinger 8 miles up the road from me and sat with Gene Schwister, the last car owner Miles drove for, that year they won All 5 track championships. I met Gene through with the hobby car deal, a very nice man, and I enjoyed his company. Miles a very nice gracious man and the Best racing story teller ever, got invited to the weekly breakfast deal that Miles had, great memories. Miles was sharp, great memory and recall fantastic, when I was introduced to Miles by Gene. He said to me, you are John Komppa Jr, you drove for your Dad and then as a car owner that won all those races with Stan Fox, I remember your Dad John and your Uncle Chet, also you drove Sprint cars in later years. I was speechless and honored that he knew of me, WOW. A great man he was, A 10 as a man and racer, yet humble, I miss him, a Great Joy in my life was meeting him. and those breakfast gatherings. My Hero as a kid. Again, I say I'm a Lucky man, How many people get to meet their childhood hero, converse with them and spend some time with them.
My dads log truck Uncles log, dump trucks and buses A dropped,, chopped merc I seen as an adolescent grew up doing mechanic work with my dad and uncle Going fast? Yawn Comfort? Not a priority. Driving beaters? Dang skippy
One of my cousins sent me this yesterday - Wacky Races. Completely forgot about it, but I’m sure as a small child, it must have had an influence. Haha!
Cotillion, choir practice, ice skating lessons, band, home economics, sewing..... made me really curious about cars
I don't remember not being interested in cars so I don't know if there was any specific event or experience that triggered it. One influence was an older cousin who was a real gearhead. This around 1960 and he was putting hemi Chrysler engines in everything. He had an early 50s Dodge pickup with a hemi, he even put one in his dad's tractor.
When I was 12 years old my brother, who was a member of the Quarter Milers hot rod club, took me to the First World Series of Drag racing held in our ho me town of Lawrenceville, Il. It was awesome
My Mom swore that my first word was “truck”. Watching my Dad patching up the old “back row beaters” that he drove to work - of course I wanted to be just like him. Then came Hot Rod Magazine, the local guys in their hot rods, indoor car shows and trips to Lions Drag Strip, they set my fascination in stone and accelerated my involvement. I was hooked.
I grew up in Stamford CT. In the early 60,s. There were plenty of hot rod influences for me to latch onto and I did. A couple of them were cousins. Midnight Joe was one with his chopped 49 Chevy convertible. 348 powered , 4speed. Joe was the best Chevy mechanic known to man. Then his younger brother Ted’s 33 Chevy corvette powered coupe. I was 14 years old and had a ride in that coupe. I was high for weeks. Many of you may know Tb33anda3rd here on the HAMB. That’s young Ted still carrying on the tradition. Then Jerry Harold’s Buick powered model A coupe and Joe Bowden’s (Bogie) A caddy powered roadster. It all got me going at age 14. Buying my first project a 34 Roadster for 45 dollars. That one never got off the ground but many others did as I have built too many hot rods to count now at almost 80 years old.
For me there wasn’t a time cars and racing weren’t a part of my life! When dad came to the hospital to pick mom up and me up he had flowers for mom, and a teddy bear, a Matchbox Indy car and a set of 7/16”-9/16” Snap-on wrenches. I was born December of 1981 and in the pits at my first race half mile dirt Hartsville-Darlington March of 1982 and in the grandstands of my first Winston Cup race the Southern 500 Darlington Labor Day weekend of the same year! I grew up in the grandstands of Fonda Speedway Fonda NY weekly dirt track racing, it wasn’t until I started school I realized not everyone went to the races every Saturday night! Mom and myself with a Cale Yarborough show car. Dad "teaching" me how to weld as a toddler Me with Richard Petty Me with Ricky Rudd Me with Junie Donlavey My first job in racing! Washing a local Sportsman Sunday morning!
The Jalopy Journal
