It's Father's Day! What's you favorite Dad and car memory!

I remember my ol' man teaching me how to properly do a tune up on his 68 Mustang coupe. After which we did the necessary "test drive", where he promptly scalded the rear hides for several lengths!
He turned to me & said with a smirk "don't tell your mother how fast this car really is or we're both in trouble".

 

My pop wasn't much of a car guy, but he took me to the autorama and the drags. Early sixtys coming back from Raisin city drags, I'm thinking how cool this day was and how cool I am cause a couple of my friends are with us. My dad starts in making car sounds RRRRRRUUUMMMM RRRRUUMM My buddies are laughing at him so he keeps it up. So much for being cool. One of his reality checks. Miss him everyday.
OLY

The cancer car lives
Give to cancer research

 

...My pops is like my big brother, everyday is an adventure....we just got back from the NHRA Reunion in Bowling Green...About to go Race the Motorcycles this afternoon, He'll kick my ass...all this and over Breakfast we are getting the plan together for the rebuild on his 292 Y-block so we can make a drag race in August. BTW, Pops is 58 this year.

He is my hero. I love ya Pops!

-reed

 

My Dad has been gone a good few years now(died when I was 11 years old),but it always makes me smile to think of the times when my dad would get me to sit on his ladders in the back of his Morris Traveller.He used to do odd jobs for people such window cleaning and house painting.He'd tell me to sit on the ladders so they wouldn't fall outta the back of his Morris Traveller.Didn't use a roof rack and the damn ladders would stick outta the back almost half way!Always remember the sound of a Morris 1000 on over run and I kinda liked the smell of the exhaust fumes!!!I suppose it's why I've owned more than one Morris Minor myself.How was a small kid going to stop the bloody ladders falling out?I didn't care because my Dad told me to do it, so it must have been the right way to do it.Dads are always right.

 

I just got done talking to my dad (he lives a few hundred miles away) and I was there for a few days last week for his 87th birthday. Dad was not a hot-rodder and didn't work on his cars much but he does like cars and definitely had a hand in my early fascination with them. When I was 6 or 7, our family got our first "second" car when dad bought a '59 Austin-Healy bug-eyed Sprite. I enjoyed riding around in it for several years until he finally bought a brand new '65 Mustang. He'd gotten a new job that involved traveling and so needed a more reliable car. I liked the Mustang too, but I sure missed the Sprite. The most important thing is that I have a great dad who has always put his family first and I'm still blessed to have him in my life.

 

G.V.,thats the coolest! My grand daughter should be born by the end of the month and I hope she will love old iron like me. My best memories are of the engine rebuild with my dad on the flat six in my 50 Chrysler. That was '73-'74 and it still has compression within 5 lbs of each other,burns no oil,runs 30 psi oil pressure hot at idle. I guess he knew what he was doing after all! 'CAUSE I SURE DIDN'T! Way back then anyway,sometimes still dont to this day.LOL
HAPPY PAPPY DAY YOU GUYS

 

My Dad was a car guy............Let me drive the family car, a fat old Nash when we went to the dump...........Ten years old, what a thrill, Thanks Dad, miss ya.

 

I remember one winter when I was about 10 years old. Here in Maine, it gets BUTT cold in February, with that wind whipping by it gets even colder and the sun sets really early. My dad had gotten pulled over for a VERY expired inspection sticker, knowing full well it was expired and knowing too that it would never pass inspection with the gaping hole in the tail pipe. We must have gone to the auto parts store 3 or 4 times, buying several different methods of patch products, none of which would work because it was so cold out the patches would freeze solid before he even got a chance to put them on. I remember laying under that car holding a flashlight for my dad as the sun went down and to this day I credit my extensive vocabulary of creative swears to that moment. He ended up going inside and placing this caustic muffler patching "tape" against the skin of his forearms and covering it up with long underwear a sweater and his jacket. I was to wait out under the car with the flashlight, freezing my ass off. He'd sprint from the house to the car and rip off this piece of tape and jam it on the exhaust pipe. He must have done this 5 or 6 times before he got the thing patched successfully - well, good enough to pass inspection. Inot only learned a lot of great swears to share with my friends, but the value of having the right tools, and how cool it is to have a garage.

Now, my stepdad on the other hand - that man is a saint. He has always supported my infatuation with old cars and has let me store some projects at his hous for long periods of time without bitching too much. He has helped me tow things home, borrow his truck whenever and has loaned me money for parts on numerous occassions.

Guess who gets the card on Father's Day.

 

Riding in my Dad's 66 Malibu when I was standing on the front seat at @ 4 yrs old.
Riding in his 65 Mustang down the road at 100 mph @ 1988
Riding next to him on my 67 Shovel and he on his 2000 Dyna @ 2004


R.I.P. Dad.

 

One of my favorite car memories was with my grandpa/best bud bombing 105 mph across the Mojave in his Model A. My mom let me out of school for a week and he and I took off for Lake Havasu.

 

being able to just ask him a question....

 

My dad is definitely not a car guy, and has two left hands when it comes to anything mechanical. We've spent lots of time playing golf over the years but I've managed to rope him into the cars every now and again.

I distinctly remember him shutting his finger in the door of my 57 Bel Air, screaming bloody murder for the whole neighborhood to hear, then having to drive him to the hospital to get it stitched up. Funny in retrospect

 

I would have to say surprising my dad yesterday (06.14.08), with his dad's 29 Model A Coupe after coming home from the L.A. Roadster Show:

http://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/showthread.php?p=2892493#post2892493

-Jeremy

 

Growing up, we had a '33 or '34 Vicky as a family car. My brother and I were playing in the car. My brother kept hitting the starter and killed the battery. Boy, was my Dad pissed. We were gonna go to the drive-in movies but my Dad said no. Fortunately, he push started the car and changed his mind.

 

Had just bought a 3 year old 64 Chevelle I6 and had just thrown a tune into it. Filters etc and rebuilt the carb. The old man listened to it run and asked if I could do the same to his Chevy II. He had been unable to get it to run properly from day one. The local GM dealer had tried and failed as well.

A little background on him. He was a Rolls trained mechanic, Raced a T with OH conversion on the local dirt tracks, Taught auto mechanics thru the second war then changed to fire protection. Taught me the basics of "how to figure out how to fix things".

 

Simple little stories, but when I first got into Hot Rod and Kustoms, at around 15yo, I wanted a cool cruiser. Well I had been buggin that I wanted something cool so I finally found a 1951 Pontiac Cheiftain. Dad wasn't sure if I was serious or not so he said get me half the four grand and I 'll get the rest and insure it. I busted my A$$ for a month doing anything and everything. I got the money and it turns out he had already bought it. We were by no means well-off so this was a big deal. Turns out he sold his old Ford truck to get the money. He still kept my money but he spent it on getting my car road worthy. He used to tell everyone half that car was his... as you would guess I only got the trunk area.

Years later we were cruisin in my car and listening to some Seltzer (ignition?), my dad asked who it was and if this was "new" music. I told him yeah and we sat back and cruised. Simple story but two rodders kickin back enjoying the ride, I'll never forget that... RIP Sir you are missed.

 

Was it the time that my father and I were in the driveway, middle of summer and he's bleeding the front brakes on his work truck. His glass of KoolAid sitting on the edge of the driveway and I was too lazy to go in and get my own drink. I drink about half of it (didn't dare drink it all) . He takes a swig and says "Did you drink out of my glass?" My response " nope the dog did though!" He instantly spit what little was left in his mouth all over the side of the truck. I think I was 8 or 9.

My father did all his own bodywork/paintwork. His philosophy was "I'd rather do it myself and not be happy with it, than pay someone and not be happy with it." Anywho...He's painting his '40 Chevy early in the morning in the driveway . He always liked to paint early in the a.m. because the dew kept the dust down. Noon rolls around and he has to get ready to go to work (2nd shift). He hands me the spray gun and says "finish it!" That was his only car to ever make a magazine cover, I believe, Rod Action-mid 80's. I was about 16.

Or was it the time I was changing engines in my '37 Dodge sedan in the garage attached to the house. Had the fuel line unhooked, and was using the O/A torch to remove a rusted bolt. Yep, you guessed it, He helped push it outside the garage-while still on fire (what's a fire extinguisher?)
I crawled under the car (still on fire) and unhooked the gas line from the tank to stop the gas. I was around 16.

The best non car story was riding our Cushman scooters from Altoona, PA to Mansfield, OH to a national Cushman meet.. Total trip length, 300 miles, 7 hours, THOUSANDS OF MEMORIES.

 

oh man... going for a ride in my dads 68 vette. stingray, 327, muncie 4 speed, 12 bolt posi, metallic flake blue, steel rally wheels, and laying rubber an smoke out of the gas station. or going out to quaker raceway in a beat up old chevy truck, and seeing the last run of the original little red wagon. going with him to work at the family business (used truck parts--big trucks). he had to start this crusty looking 366 chevy (baby big block, same crank as 396/427). motor is sitting on a block of wood, a coffee can of fuel to one side, home-made starter switch, and the exhaust pipes are cut about 3 feet back from the manifolds. he kicks it over and this thing wheezes to life and sounds like death, he holds the throttle wide open (feathers it a little) and smiles--motor kicks out a big cloud of smoke, spits some fire, then does what big blocks do best (meanwhile im grinning ear to ear with eyes wide open). but best is asking how EVERYTHING worked--remember asking about transmissions, and he pulls this muncie all apart on the bench just for me to see. remember the next day when he got home from work, how proud he was when i showed him this tiny working LEGO 3 speed tranny i made. still making stories (as a chevy man he's still skeptical of the flathead ford motor in the garage...), but heres to a happy fathers day~

 

Working side by side with my dad this fathers day weekend boxing the frame for my model a project .