Did you abuse your parents cars?

We snuck my Friend's Dad's 32 Chevy sedan out a few times when they were out of town. No abuse happened to the car and I didn't want to drive it. Even though we weren't supposed to be driving it we took it real easy and stayed on paved back roads. We prolly put less than 5 or 10 miles on the car cause we were so scared of getting seen. We would have been recognized and snitched on in a second since it was the only bright yellow 32 running around. This was back in 89 or 90. Sure was fun. I hope he doesn't come here and figure out, I've said too much, later. Josh.

 

I didn't have any money and was scared of damaging anything so I didn't , but my buddy Mike used to steal his Dad's big block 67 Chevelle all the time and do huge slideways burnouts in front of girls houses and stuff ! Them were the days .

 

My poor Dad if he were alive, today he should beat my ass. I don’t think he had a car I didn’t screw up. I was 14 my Dad had a 56 Chevy 4 dr. 265 power pack 3speed on the column we lived outside of town so I would talk him into letting me go to the store for a bottle of Pepsi. Dad would say just go to the store and nowhere else, I would say ok. First thing I would go get my buddies and show them how fast the car would go then do burnouts. I was 15 and Dad had a 59 Chevy 4dr. 6cyl. 3 speed, my friend had a 49 Ford flathead V8, he wanted to race me so we went to the high school parking lot, the 6cyl beat him bad, so bad I wasn’t able to stop at the end of the parking lot I went across the road up a pretty steep grassy bank and almost hit a slow down school zone sign. My Dad would trade cars a lot and the next one was a really nice 53 Chevy 2dr. sedan, he just bought it, I asked Dad if I could go to the store he said I just got the car and no paper work has been done yet, I said I’ll be careful. Dad gave me the keys, I went to get my buddies to show them a cherry 53 Chevy, I drove for way too long and when I was taking the guys home I took a gravel road a little too fast and put the car in a slide, it sheared a big country mail box off at the ground and wiped the quarter panel out bad. That was one trip home I didn’t want to make but I had to face the music. Another nice car was a 57 dodge 2 dr. hard top push button transmission, I would get it going pretty good in reverse then hit low range and burn the tires. One day I was crossing an intersection as I got to the center the front end went up and when it came down I was dragging the frame, the A frame fell out.
When I went in the Army my Dad bought a brand new 65 Chevy Impala S.S. 396 burgundy with black interior. I would come home on leave and load that car up the girls loved new cars so we would park on top of a hill luckily I didn’t hurt that car but being a 396 you could imagine how fast that car would go. Dad picked up a 56 Chevy 2dr. ht 265 power pack this car had a continental kit big bumpers, and fender skirts. I had a 65 GTO when I was in the Army, and my Dad wanted to use my car so I drove his 56 back to my base. I was working part time at a Standard station and when it was slow I would look at the car and thought it would look better without the continental kit and big bumpers. I paid a guy $5.00 each to cut the bumpers off and the continental kit and I let him keep the parts as I could not put them in the car. When it was time to get my car back, and give him his 56 I thought he would agree that the car looked better. Dad was so disappointed he let my brother in-law have the car; I guess he paid me back. It’s a wonder I’m able to write this because if I had a son that did to my cars like I did to his he would be in big trouble. At least I treated my 65 GTO as I did my Dads cars run the hard and fast tore several rear ends out, and then welded the spider gears up, it made it hard to make tight turns but didn’t tear anymore gears up.

 

well i have a couple of abused cars to my credit and somehow i survived being beatin to death by my parents one night after an evening of fellowship with my brothers while on leave from the army, we were out and about scouting for new members for our bible study class and where else
do you go to find new members ? we decided the local bars , strip joints and lola's home for un-wed mothers would be the best places to try first (this is my story and im sticking to it) after about 12 hours of this we decided it was time to go home as the hour was late about 2:00 am ,it had been raining most of the night and as i came to a stop sign i braked to slow down and started to skid , and skid we did all the way across the intersection and into a ditch on the other side of the road , we exited the vehicle to inspect our situation and seen that we were stuck partly on a railroad track with the front wheels touching the ground and the back wheels were about 3 feet off the ground ,after disscussing our situation we decided we could put the car in reverse and rock it back and forth tetter totter fashion and when the rear wheels touch it would help back the car off the track , sounds good
so we started rocking the car back and forth and it did work , as the wheels touched the pavement the car started to move a little at a time and then finally the car started backing off the track , you can just imagine our laughter as our master plan started to work so as the car started backing off the track an onto the road i ran around to jump back into the car
and to my surprise the door "WAS LOCKED" with the window up! like i said it was raining out that night. all we could do was watch the car back up the road about a hundred feet into a ditch on the other side of the road and flip over ..we had to walk home that night in the rain , about 6 miles and my two brothers decided (see story below)i was the one who had to tell mom where her new caddy was the next morning..

when i was 10 in 1969 we were living in san diego while the old man was on one of his tours of nam my brothers were out in front of the house in his 55 chevy doing burnouts in front of the house , my older brother then parked the car in the driveway because he said later one of the carbs
linkage was sticking , me i didnt know anything about anything other than the fact i wanted to do a burnout myself , so i cranked up the car and backed it into the street , mashed the clutch stomped my foot in the gas dumped the clutch , and then things got interesting , the car got sideways
and turned back up the driveway , i let off the gas but the car keep screaming and bounced of the side of my moms pickup truck and went into the wall of the dining room of our house , my older brother actually
caught all the shit over that one for not keeping a better eye on me , yeah he kinda kicked my ass later in a big brother kind of way , my brothers fixed the house and the car and i still dont know if the old man ever found out , and im not asking about it either..

 

"You're on the karma train" - Earl

I thought I'd missed payback when my 2 oldest kids turned out to be excellent drivers, but then my youngest started driving. He had a 3-car pileup in our driveway that took the bumper off our 69 Mustang while side-swiping his brother's car. When he saw the damage to his brother's car it made him so mad he threw the Mustang into gear and floored it back into the garage, running into my project 51 and knocking it off stands onto the floor. He later tore the pan off that 69 in front of our police chief's house trying to impress the chief's daughter, and then blew the 327 in his brother's truck while his older sibling was fighting fires in Florida.

Through all this all I could do was laugh sheepishly because I knew what I'd done to my own parent's cars. We won't go into the terrible things I did to my Mom's new 66 Dodge, but at 16 I was driving it because I had already blown the flathead in my 35 pickup and totaled my 51 Chevy running cheater slicks in the rain. In the Chevy I managed to take out 60 feet of the neighbor's fence, allowing all of his cows to escape. After helping him round up his cattle I had to spend my summer savings replacing the fence, and that hurt since I was going to use that money for a V8. After that Dad made sure I was on foot most of my senior year, and he didn't let me drive any of his cars for years.

 

Ashkully not me, I bought my first car (a 68 Mustang) when I was 15 with paper route money so I didn't drive my parent's cars very much.

My grandfather did let me learn how to to power brake burnouts with his 63/4 T-Bird though when I was about 13 or 14 years old

Al in CT

 

I used to jack my father's '67 Caprice up and swap the rear tires side to side to try to even out the tread from all of the non-posi burnouts I did on a daily basis.

 

I actually HAD to drive my Dads cars. He wouldn't ket us get our own cars as there was no place to keep them. He always had a second car for the rest of the family, four boys and my sister to use to go to school and to take my Mom places as she never drove. Well Dad always got "sturdy" cars . We had a Rambler in the early 60's that finally got totaled by a dump truck. Then he got us a ...Studerbaker . A four door flathead six Stude that we had to drive to school!!! Damn that was embarressing. My brother tried and tried to blow that thing up, but it was just too "sturdy". Many reverse holeshots and unspeakable abuse later my dad sold it because it was smoking a little. By then my older brothers had joined the military or gone off to college and my sister got married, so i got my Dads hand me down '64 Dodge Station wagon to drive to high school. 318 and three on the tree...yeah baby now we're talkin' That car suffered badly at my hands. I took the air cleaner top off as soon as I was out of sight of the house...EVERYDAY! Raced nearly everyday before school. My dad had gotten new rear tires about the time I started driving it, a few weeks later we were doing yard work and he and I at the same time looked directly at the right rear tire...totally bald ( I had noticed that it was hooking better lately) and he said "Damn cheap Fisk (K Mart) tires" I did manage to break one of the leafs in the rear springs, but other than that it was bullitproof!!!! meawhile Dad had bought a '70 Caddy Coupe DeVille, 472. I did manage to break a motormount in that.......

 

My folks moved the family to Florida in a 1954 Buick Super convertible, black with a white top and red interior but they traded it in on a new '58 Ford T-bird before I could get an opportunity to abuse it. I was about 13 and Roger and I made an impression of mom's new ignition key in a bar of soap (saw it in a movie) and hand filed a blank in his dad's work shop. Much to our amazement when my folks went out the following weekend evening the key worked. My folks went out regularly every Saturday evening and from that point forward Mom's car was our ride on Saturday night. We'd run whatever dirt roads we could find to slide the turns and then race the seldom used paved roads in the country that we lived on the edge of. There was a nicely banked sweeper by the Baptist church that had a huge oak tree on the outside of the turn. I was haulin' ass through the turn in a controlled drift one night when a loud bang ocurred and the car got crazy and we just missed the huge oak tree. We get going again and the smell of burnt rubber was strong so we drove it home and parked it as always. The next week my mom is telling my dad that her T-bird is acting funny so he takes it in to the dealer. When he gets home with it a few days later I hear him telling her that the sway bar was broke in two and they had to order a new one and replace one tire, they never saw that happen at the dealer before. My folks never suspected that I was driving her car as I didn't even have a learners permit yet.
I confessed to my dad many years later over a few beers as to what happened to "that new t-bird that you bought mom."

 

Yea, once I was hanging out with this hooker and kicked my dad's Porsche 928 out of gear and rolled down a hill into lake Michigan. She helped me out by getting her freinds to come over and turn tricks with all my high school buddies to pay to fix the car...

No actually, I lived in Hendersonville NC when I was a teenager.

My dad had a 78 Ford Ranger, 302 with 3 on the tree. I used to borrow it and drive it around Henderson Co NC like an insane idiot. I'd push it as hard as I could on the curvy roads I'd drive the my Fiat on, hanging the ass end out and loving the sound it made with the dual glass packs.

There was this field up in the Pisgagh National Forest that you had to drive thru a river to get to and I'd take girls up there and drink beer. I'd make up excuse to borrow the truck because my car was too small to cross the river.

My mom had an 83 Mercury Lynx (Ford Escort). I'd pick up my freind for school every morning in the Fiat (128 sedan) and if I caught a green light at the hump where Blythe St. crosses (? don't remember the road but it's one of the main ones out of town) I could do an honest 20-30 feet through the air with all four wheels off the ground. I did it almost every morning.

One day I had my mom's car and did this and when I landed the shitbox was all over the road, I almost wrecked it. There's a world of difference between a cheap crappy car from Italy and one from the US when it comes to handling. It did have a much nicer tape deck than my poor ass could afford though.

The back up car was a 74 Ford Galaxie 500 with a 351 Cleveland. It was a automatic so anytime I had it, I was laying rubber all over the place.

When I think about how I treated my parents cars nowadays, I'm sure my kid will never drive anything but his own car.

 

Oh hell ya. When I was 15, about 2 days after i got my permit, my dad let me drive down to the indy race in Colorado Springs. I found out the cruise control in a Mazda MPV minivan would hold it at 125mph down I-25. My dad never knew the difference, he was too busy sleeping off a hangover in the passenger seat.

 

I just remembered another thing I did later in life. My dad had an 83 Plymouth Horizon that he loaned me in college. I learned (by trail and error) that I could speed up to 50 MPH, yank the wheel and the emergency brake at the same time and spin it exactly 360 degrees.

After some time doing this I could do 180s, 90s etc. by changing speed. I broke the linkage in that car and fixed it with telephone wire. It was like that when he sold it.

 

No shit,Dick Tracy.....dont even want to go there

 

No way I'm a Catholic and Ex alterboy, I beat up my sisters 68 Mustang GT 390

 

mom always wondered how her tires went bald so quick in the back of her 60 pick up...Man I think she was replacing them every few months she still does not no to this day about all those late night burnouts in front of the party crowd chanting burn em off after leaving every weekend

 

Yeeesss..and my girlfriends, and her mothers, even did some burn-outs in my grandparents brand new 61 LeSabre 401 bubbletop two-door, black with a white roof, man, do I wish I still had that car..My Dad taught me to drive in various company trucks, the bigger and clunkier the better, I could always borrow the "Brown Bomber" a 59 Ford ton and a half with a 292, it was a short bob truck meant for hauling, mobile homes,portable bldgs,boats..I quickly figgered out that I could do big wheelstands by bouncing it in first gear..I had my license for a few days when I was doing a burnout in my mothers 59 Olds wagon and put it into an oak tree..The peak of my abuse was after Dad helped me put my 55 Chevy together..the six came out and a 327 went in and 13.90s at the strip weren't enough, I had to go faster, whatever the cost..like an idiot I did a deal with some real hoodlums and they delivered a red-hot 67 Corvette 435-427 that they had just stolen from the Mall parking lot, took what I needed for the 427 four-speed conversion and thru the rest into Canyon Lake..I got busted, paid my dues (I was 17 yrs, old) never again...all in the quest for speed, men, and boys, do strange things....

 

My grandfather used to own the GM dealership in small Harlowton, MT and would send his eldest and most trustworth sons to Roundup to bring home his new purchases.

One day a local farmer came in looking to buy a new car and "Honest Ed" insisted that he should take a look at one of the new white Cadillacs [late 50s] that just came in. The farmer replied "You mean the pair of Cadillacs I saw drag racing out of town last weekend? I dont want anything to do with those."

The only vehicle I terrorized was a '76 luv, factory lime green. No burnin tires stories from that one, but small town Montana presents its alternatives like snow and miles of gravel. I had 2 careless driveing tickets in the green machine before I had recieved a warning. One ticket was issued on the airport tarmack at 1am after a school dance in light snow. Small town airports are more called "airports" than used as such and they present such a prestine, snow white canvas for a boy to learn to control a slide.
I used to drive the gravel back roads to the wheat feilds up north jumping every cattle guard and slideing every corner to keep myself awake in the morning. the county had graded the roads while I was at work one day. I came in hot on the best corner of my drive home, a corner that ended in a narrow cattle guard. I got too wide on the corner into the fresh loose gravel. I sheered a 3 inch steel pole off at the ground and gutten my oil pan on the cattle guard while sheering off all 3 steering box mount bolts and pushing the frame back. My pride suffered greatly as I welded the cattle guard together the next day. I didnt have a scratch on me, the luv never recovered.

PaX

 

I can see I was not the only kid that had a heavy foot,,,,

I was BAN from driving anything my dad owned and the old bicycle became my best friend again until I saved up enough money for my first car and insurance,,,,

I too have suffered my twin girls demolition derby style of driving as a form of payback that I put my dad through,,Karma,I guess. HRP

 

I won't admit to any abuse, but while I was in high school, my dad's 60 Chevy went thru 2 powerglides........right after I graduated, it went thru the 3rd one. It took me 25 years to get him to buy another Chevy. I will admit that you can have some fun with a powerglide, held in first gear all the time, 'specially in the rain!

 

shit....my dad knew damn well what i was capable of destroying and to solve that he brought home the 4 banger work truck he no longer needed. I got into a lot of trouble with that truck....just neer got cayght. My brother on the other hand...he ALWAYS got caught


he trusts me enough to put his cars through the paces these days though. Viper powered Carbon fiber '33 ford...."get on it, boy!"

 

wow did i EVER... makes me feel like an asshole now

 

Funny thread, I'll play.

By the time I was 18, the family '68 Lemans only had 78,000 miles on it's 350ci with a powerglide. I got my license and promptly lost my driving privileges, don't recall why. I managed to get my mom's keys and went and made a copy for 55 cents. Oh the fond memories (Quincy MA) of having it topped out and trying to hit 125 mph... Everywhere. I recall going about 80 mph down a big street, coming up on a red light, and basically skidding through the intersection with all the tires locked up... Went through, and got back in the gas and went home. Raced a Laguna S3 from Quincy to almost Paragon Park in Hull, that was a very crazy, very long race. Both cars were turds and we almost traded paint about five times.

Guy bought a new 1987 Hurst Olds, and we raced once on the highway. That's when I blew the motor in the car. That was hard to explain. My mom is 67 now.

 

all of the above. blown brand new transmissions, popped a rearend in my dads nomad via powerbraking. kicked off insurance for numerous reasons. Not to mention all the shit ive done in my own cars

 

my parents would not let me touch their cars. i bought my first car when i was 13 so that was what i drove when i got my license. never wrecked any car until i was 19 or so and it was someone else's fault.

 

Honest to god truth...
I took my Dad's LTD to work delivering pizza. I got lost on a back road and went over a railroad crossing that had been custom designed by Evil Kenevil. Guy sitting on his front porch said it went up in the air about 8 feet and flew about 30 feet. TOTALLY screwed the car up big time. Banged my forehead on the steering wheel, pushed the bumper up and busted the grill, steering was a nightmare...

Anyway, I drove it home [at about 25 mph] and parked it in the driveway and went to bed. My Dad was off work the next day, so I figured I'd face the devil in the morining.

About 4:00 a.m. there's a knock on the front door, and it's the police.

Officer asks if we own a blue '84 LTD.

"Why, yes we do officer" replies my Dad. "I'm afraid your son's been in a serious accident with it" says the officer.........

WTF???? I'm standing at the top of the stairs, and I actually thought for a second that I had been killed in the "accident", and I was a restless spirit aimlessly wandering the earth

Turns out, my little brother had been drinking, and had taken the car because it was in "the back of the driveway", and he had driven head first into a tree about 1/2 mile down the road.

At first I was gonna confess to what I had done, but when I learned he was drunk, and had been going aprox. 50 mph in a 25 zone, I decided to keep my mouth shut.

To this day my Dad has no clue, and my brother has no recollection of the wreck.

BTW, this is the same little brother that spit on the bug zapper

 

No. I respected other people's belongings.

 

One day when I 16 (two years ago) I was driving my mom's new'07 Hyundai to get some pizza. well about a mile down the road from the pizza place there is a road that has some railroad tracks with an insane incline. Well I decided to try out these tracks and I went about 40 mph( too scared to go faster) and hit the tracks and that Hyundai caught some air and nose dived a little bit. As soon as I hit the ground I slammed on the brakes and got out off the car scared shitless that I had torn the front bumper off. Well the car was fine and I drove home with my nerves all rattled and I did 10 under the whole way.

 

My Dad told me as soon as I got my license..."I don't mind you driving my stuff, just always remember that I have A LOT of friends, so you may NEVER KNOW WHO'S WATCHING!!!!!!!!"
That was enough to scare me for a while, but...
My Mom had a 83 Mustang ragtop with a 5.0 5 speed that she would RARELY let me drive. I got to drive it my last day of High School. I layed about a 75' dual patch of rubber right in front of the school. Boy did I think I was cool! There was rubber all over the quarters, and INSIDE the car because I had the top down. Man could that thing lay a lot of rubber.
20+ years later, It still sits in my parents garage. I still love that car, and my mom still doesn't like me driving it!

 

I grew up in a different time I guess.... cause my parents did not have any vehicle worth bragging about on this particular forum...

but it was entertaining explaining to Mom and Dad why the stock limited slip in my F150's 8.8 was laying in the middle of the intersection after a powerbrake to launch incident.... F150 on 35's vs. 5.0 Mustang.... lilke I had a chance in hell anyway....

 

I wouldn't dare- my dad's got a 1940 Cadillac. I might be tempted to trash my mom's Bimmer a bit because she drives it because 'American cars are too trashy'.

I'll be good...