An old man wandered into my driveway today.

A decade ago an older neighbor spied me through the open man cave door clumsily chipping away happily at a forever project.

He's since been a regular trove of helpful hints, encouragement, a skilled hand, wow pawn shop powerball prize tools, and passion. Says it's history, art, engineering, speed and freedom, all rolled up. Gasoline and open road.

His vocation and avocation have been motorvation in all forms imaginable, including a fantastic hotrodded WWII plane with Honest to Goodness sliding bubble top door and rough, short field landing abilities. Looks like a fighter with 4 seats.

If there's an engine he has not built for fun -- excuse me, built and blown -- it sure ain't vintage American, English or German.

He has long returned to his roots now, and only the good old USA stuff will do. He could craft a flattie, nailhead or early hemi while playing Hot Rod Jepardy for pink slips.

He's cheerfully grabbing good days and energy, as it comes, without moan, to finish two last great projects. Clear head, steady hand, will take it as it comes. Grinning.

The big C will return in a bit to close this fine road trip and call it well done.

All that, and he's making time for this nimrod wannabe with skills worthy of a twelve dollar socket set.

Great guy, fine company, good friend, big help, tearful tomorrow.

Life in all its stages, projects in all their stages, are celebration and shared challenge.

Cheers too all fading 15 year old gearhead speed freaks, and their lucky students and friends.

 

good thread, brought back some great memories (i'm only 49)

my 52 truck was painted my a 70 something friend named Harold, (yes I've seen better paint jobs) ya know, I've not seem him for awhile. he lives on other side of town (After reading this i'm gonna drive truck down his way this weekend and see what he's got going on)

so I got a retired neighbor a few houses down. we chatted off and on sometime about a 46 ford 2-door sedan hiding in his garage, it's pretty much apart and all packaged up. anyway I bought Nevin's old ford (frame and body are still in his garage) a couple months ago with the deal that he's gonna work on it with me, and see it get finished.

so last night i'm looking through some of the boxes of 46 car parts, and find the original hub caps all wrapped up in old new paper, I read a couple articles from the 1975 (38 years wrapped up)

he tells me he went and found the guy he bought the car from many years ago, and after talking awhile that gentleman remembered he found more parts he still has, Nevin dropped them off a couple weeks ago. one was a NOS chrome rear bumper..... they just gave it to me..... I couldn't have found one of them if I tried.

NOW, I'm motivated to get working on another friends project, so I can get it out of my garage and started on Nevin's 46 Ford Sedan....

 

Rickybop ive read lots of your stories for years but this one my friend was priceless!

 

D.N.D. you have pics of your car at San Fernando, I've been working a collection for a while now, and always hoping to find some more of dad ole '56 he raced with Dick Jones and Chris Christensen.

 

That '37 is sweet! Thanks for sharing, cool story.

 

Very cool story. It made me laugh, my grandma is 92 and still uses the word Jitney! LOL

 

...here's a recent pic of Don's 37, one of my favorite s of all time.

 

Wow, I finally got to read through all the stories on this thread. Thanks everyone for sharing!

I feel the same way man. I was taught at a very young age to always have respect for my elders and to be kind to and respect everyone i meet, for that matter. (at least until they give me a good reason not to.) Unfortunately I feel like that mentality is becoming less common nowadays. But I love that something as simple as a common interest in old cars can bring all these people together. Both on the HAMB and in life in general. Its pretty awesome.

 

I always loved pinstipping and lettering one day a young girl who lives just down the street came into my shop and asking me if she could walk my dog.

I agreed and told her that if each day she came over I would give her one dollar for walking the dog. She only walked the dog a short distance each day because my pit bull is getting to old to walk very far.

She happened to see a few helmets that were sitting on a shelf and she liked the names that I had lettered on the helmets and she asked me if I would letter her helmet for riding her bike.

I could not refuse so I said sure and I lettered her helmet and make it look nice with a drop shadow and a few small stars.

Once the other kids in the neighborhood saw her helmet I had a line of kids out the door who wanted the same thing.

I never charge them a penny because I love pinstipping and lettering but today with the business I rarely have the time to do it anymore.

Jimbo

 

Always be kind to old men.
Old men sometimes have old cars.
Old men sometimes don't know what to do with their old cars.
Old men sometimes are looking to have their old cars used again by a caring person.
Old men sometimes give their cars to caring persons.
Be a caring person, you will always get something in return. Even if it's only a thank you.

 

I read this front to back... I also had a tear in my eye with Rickybops story, at work... I was made fun of for a sec until I made others read it as well. I think everyone called their grandparents after that.... LOL

 

And remember.... one day you will be that old man.

 

Amen to keeping the flame burning for this guy and the hobby. Its great to see folks come out of their shell because of an old car, and have them tell stories like this. You seem like a nice person to let him reminisce. Thanks for being a respectful person and recognizing how much a simple thing like and old car and some stories are to people. I hope we can all get the same respect when we're up there in years.

I just had a similar thing happen at a show recently, and a guy named Charlie talked about getting pulled over all the time in the early 1950's with his '48 Chevy Fleetline Aerosedan with a 235 and homemade three pot intake and straight pipes. He worked at a machine shop and milled the head a little and it made okay power, but was mostly loud. "Rattled buildings". Cops would pull him over for loud pipes and say "Okay, boy...let's rev it up to see how loud this thing is. We could write you up for that, you know?"

He said his defense as a teen was to tell the cop he "had a loose rod" and couldn't rev it much. Cops would always say "REV IT UP, YOU!" and then he'd finally rev it and get the ticket. He sold the Chevy and built a '50 Olds '88 coupe with the 303 Rocket. He said "Some guys musta had better luck with it than I did because that car was a headache" . We had a nice 20 minute chat and it made my night like your neighbor's stories did.


We need a place to share these stories and record them. Thankfully the HAMB is that place. I fear that these stories aren't the kind that guys tell their grandkids around the Thanksgiving table, so many could be lost over time.

 

In 1963 my family moved to a new home (same town and school district) I knew some of the kids that lived there from high school so everything seemed Cool. Little did I know that just 3 houses away I would meet a man who would become my life time friend.
Jesse David Westmoreland was a veteran of WWII and had served in the Navy just off of the Aleutian Islands (Alaska). I would walk up the street and stand at the end of his driveway hoping to get an invitation to visit. The attraction was an old turquoise metallic car that sat in his carport.
Persistence eventually paid off and this stranger (then) said come on up and take a look. His first question was "Do You like old cars ?" I was smiling like a Jackass eating Briars when I said yes. He then asked where I lived and the conversation started.
J.D. walked me around the car and explained that it was a 38 Chevy Business Coupe. The running gear was a 327 backed up with a 4-speed. The paint on the car was fantastic along with the leather buckets and interior.
It seems that J.D. had raced the car at Yellow River Drag Strip and a few other Local Strips but he was now in the process of a rebuild into a show car. Hell, I was on Cloud 9. I asked if I could help sometime and his response was "NO", backed up with you can come by, watch and learn any time you see me out here working.
A few years later J.D. moved to a larger house with a big 2-car garage.
The friendship continued and by then I was driving and I would go over to the new house to see what he was working on. Things at home were not going well and when I needed to escape I would go see J.D. and just hangout.
Late in 1966, I bought a running and driving 39 Chevy 2-door (axle car) and could not wait to drive over and show J.D. the car. His 38 Coupe had left a burning impression and desire. I spoke with him many times about building my 39 and a few months later my dreams started to come together with J.D.'s help. That Old Hot Rodder sure knew a lot of people but that is another story.
Saving my money parts were accumulated and I had somehow wrangled J.D. into doing work on my 39. Due to lack of deep pockets, I could not reach as high as I wanted but we came to an agreement that I could afford.
I didn't get a 327 4-speed but I did get a 283 Power Pack, Glide and a 55 Chevy rear end all installed by J.D. I remember the night that I stood in J.D.'s garage and heard my little Mouse Motor come to life. The Mouse and Glide were out of a totaled 64 Impala and only had 20,000 miles. I took my ride home the next day.
The next few weeks (months) were spent having the radiator built along with all new brakes. Under J.D.'s supervision I had a drive shaft cut and completely re-wired the car for 12-volt. Bought S-W Gauges and a J.C. Whitney floor shift. I soon found out exactly what a neutral safety switch was for and that I needed one.
Over the years the friendship continued to grow and I was able to do work for J.D. Some body work and welding and some upholstery work.
Today I would consider him one of the Greatest Influences on my life. J.D. and I first met when I was 15 years old and I will soon be 66. The Sad part of this story is that J.D. is suffering with Alzheimer Disease and is now 90. The last time I saw him he could not remember my name. Our telephone conversations have been vague.
I must admit that I could never repay this man for the time he spent with me or for all the lessons I learned.
In 1980 I met a young Guy who was on Probation for stealing a Mini-Bike. He kept drifting into the auto parts house were I then worked. I could tell that this young man was having some bad times in his life so I invited him to follow me home when my shift was over. I grabbed a couple of soft drinks as we walked through the house and told him that I wanted to show him something in my back garage. As I opened the door his eyes widened and he asked, "What kind of car is that ?" I told him "That is a 38 Chevy Coupe and that an old friend had one when when I was his age." "That one over there is a 38 Chevy Sedan and the body in back is a 38 Chevy Convertible" That 16 year old kid sat in my garage until about 10 o'clock that night. When he left I told him that if he had itchy feet or trouble at home to drive by and if the light was on in either garage to stop and visit. I explained that he did not need to be roaming the streets and getting into more trouble. He was the product of a broken home
That 16 year old kid is now 43, married and a reputable auto mechanic. Even though I now live in North Carolina and he lives in Georgia we still talk at least once a week. There have been times when he has introduced me to his friends and told them that I was not his Father but that I sure as Hell was his Dad !!!
This Old Car Stuff and the stories that you hear are great. The Greatest Part is the Life Time Friends along the way and the Influence on the Generation just behind us.
Thanks Guys and the H.A.M.B for letting me Rattle !!! Jeff

 

99-03 Old Tony lived behind my NAPA store. One evening walked out of my store around to his front step and died, I was the last person to talk to him. He was 93. I still have EVERY item he gave me. From tiny, tiny machine screws, with washers and nuts, measuring tape, a old screw style bumper jack. He would flirt with every woman that came in, always telling jokes. I think of him often. peace

 

When I lived in a very small mountain town (398 pop.) in southern NM, I ran into two guys in the local post office wearing Speed Sport jackets and asked them where they got them since the Speed Sport roadster was so famous - turns out one of them was "Red" Greth and he was buying a little adobe house there to escape the heat of Tucson in the summer. After lots of adventures with that house and other stuff I feel privileged to have Red as a friend.