How old's the oldest H.A.M.B. member?60+?Tell us a cool story

Great thread

I'm only 50 so I'm too young to contribute to this thread but I do have an observation. It seems that or hamb elder statesmen are a late night bunch the first 17 posts on this thread happened between 1am and 3am

Gary

 

When I was 16 y/o,I bought a 55 Chevy Convertible,6 Cylinder,3 on the tree for $100. &the owner let me pay it off @ $25.a week
I was only making $40. a week.The owner lived in Massachusetts & I lived in New Hampshire about 40 miles away.For 3 weeks I hitch hiked to Mass. to make the payment(Got paid on Friday & payment was due saturday so mailing it was out of the question).On the 4th saturday I hitched down & drove it home.
Sure would be nice to have it today.

 

I remember that painters truck, I thought his rear tube bumper filled with water was one of the best traction tricks of the 50's. never saw it in the 60's. wonder where that truck is today. another truck was Big Bill's blown cad powered ford

 

grew up in the late 50s cruise the main drag on fri. and sat nights midnight drags,spinning brodies(doughnuts) on uncle johns lawn(high school princiblt first name we called the lawn at high school uncle johns)drove a 50 olds coupe with a 56 motor in it went faster then then i should have driven it,most of my friends drove 40 and up fords and chevs,some souped up most wernt but we had dreams of doing it,police let us get away with far more stuff then they let kids get away with now. still have a 50 olds and im 66 now love them rockets

 

My Dad is 75 this year. He tells a story of his older brother stealing their fathers car. This was during the gas rationing of WWII and because my grandfather was a preacher he was not restricted on getting gas. They figured that preachers, doctors and such were necessary and so they were allowed to buy gas when they wanted to. They would take my grandfathers car to the gas station and fill it up. Then siphon the gas out and sell it to their friends at a profit and start the whole process over again.

 

Regarding the "Painters" F100, actually, his rear bumper wasn't filled with water as some thought, it was solid chrome moly!

Wolfie

 

this thread is amazing!

 

Traderjack, I'm in santa rosa as well....you should come by the shop!

 

OK I am 66 and the one I remember best (although probably somewhat enamored by now).

Picture this - 31 A very black and stock looking other than tires with a 283 power pack under the hood well mufflered that would smoke the tires. Now also imagine a Maytag Washing Machine gas motor in the trunk with NO mufflers. I can still hear the reving putt putt putt with the tires smokin running away from the 57 that thought he could beat him.

I have a stock 1928 original Chev coupe and if I ever modify it - that is what I want to do ( may be harder to find the Maytag),

 

I'm 67 and I can still remember my dad telling me of the time he had to help his dad get his model T off of a stone wall he had back up onto some place in Pomona, A loooong time ago.

 

My Grandfather had the first Ford Phaeton in the state of Montana. He worked for the Railroad and had it brought, via rail, to Montana from Chicago where he bought it. On their first family outing my mother was standing and leaning on the door to the back seat. They hit a large bump and she bounced out and somehow under the car and was run over by the rear wheel. Fortunately it wasn't really a road, but a very rutty trail and she landed in a deep rut. The worst of it was the tire tracks across her "Sunday go to meeting" dress, and a bruise across her stomach. After that he put ropes in the seats and tied the kids down to make sure they stayed in the car. First known use of seatbelts in a car, maybe?

 

Well nothing fancy here and I am going on 72. In the 50's I bought a cool stock 33 chev coupe for $37.50 in Navasota Texas. In the small town of Montgomery I bought running 34 ford coupe's 3 and 5 window for $15.00 to $25.00. The $25.00 cars usualy were overhauled and a decent paint job. In those days Cad-olds and red ram hemi's were the motors of choice. My first transplant was a Cadillac in my 49 ford coupe and with Lasalle transmission. As were most rods in those days they were a little on the crude side as to motor swaps but appearance was big. We learned the art of coverning up the bad stuff and in a year or so developed the necessary skills to do it right so to speak. Every Saturday night was the drive inn for burgers and all the hot rods parked on the back row. There is where most of the races developed and as soon as a pair of cars headed out the place looked deserted for 30 40 minutes then every one returned and the bench racing began. Where we raced the cops didnt bother us and some actually would come out and watch. They were good times to say the least.

 

Back in 57 when someone needed parts we made trips to junk yards late at nite. I had this friend who needed a door for a old Chevy he went in during the day and took the door off it's hinges and went back in at nite and carried the door out through a hole in the fence. Many years later my friend buys the junk yard. So I'm siting there talking to him about how he raided the yard of parts years back. He jumps off the chair and said gotta repair that hole in the fence before they start ripping me off. Sometimes we gets smart too late, ha ha!

 

I'm 64 but most of my stories are typical of all the other old guys. Best one I remember was from my dad. He went to college after the war and he had a 36 Ford coupe. In the wnter with all the ice and slush on the roads, the brakes would feeze up and he couldn't stop. The only way was to run along a snow bank until it came to a stop. I can imagine doing this!
Jim

 

I gotta smile when I read some of these responses. 41? Hell, man, I have socks older than that!! I don't like to dwell n it, but I will be 66 next week. 66!! When the heck did this happen? For you younger guys...watch what happens when you turn...oh, say....58. Suddenly the getting up and down on a creeper becomes an effort. Drop a tool and...dammit...gotta bend over to get it. (maybe I'll carry a long handled magnet to pick up tools, hardware)
ARRGGHHH!!
Gotta go now and take my meds so I can pee, poop, have sex, and...I forget what else.

 

Jalopy Junkie wrote:

Small world! So did I. Know a lot of funny stories, but not funny to most people younger. Guess times were just different then. Guess thay needed to live it, to understand it.

 

In the summer of 1965 I was building a '57 Chevy "two-ten" two-door sedan. Plans called for a 283 solid lifter motor and a stick-shift trans. I already had the engine, but still needed the stick conversion parts. So, one Saturday a friend and I ventured down to the meadowlands in North Arlington, NJ and to the row of junk yards that operated there. It was an intimidating place to visit as a twenty year-old, because almost all of the yard owners had very gruff demeanors and little patience for hotrod kids lke us.
We stopped at Bib's, one of the first yards we came across, and told the owner what we were looking for. He was abnormally friendly ( for a Jersey junk-yard owner)as he directed us to a very straight and clean '55 Chevy Belair two-door sedan. The dark green paint was shiny, the chrome was very nice as was the interior. He said I could buy the parts I needed from this car as it had a blown engine and the car was to be scrapped. I pondered buying the whole car as it was in better condition than the '57 I was doing, but I decided against it.
I made the deal for the stick parts and went to get my tools to remove same. When I returned to the yard, the owner told me to wait a moment and then walked to the back of the yard. In minutes he returned with a forklift, put the forks under the chassis and flipped this clean little '55 over onto it's roof to, in his words, "make it easier to work on". It was sickening, even back then, to see that '55 ruined like that. But,they were so cheap and abundant at the time there was always another one around the next corner.
I once bought a '55 Chevy sedan with glass fenders that was an old B/G car less engine, for $35.00. I also bought a '57 Belair two-door hardtop that was hit in the nose, but repairable for $50.00 and it had a 280hp 348 with a four-speed, and I didn't fix it, I just parted it out and scrapped what was left. This stuff was all over back then. Who knew it would end someday?

 

I am of the opinion that it dont matter how old you are...we all like to tell stories of what happened and fond or not so fond recollections. I remember when I was like 6 playing on a homemade tractor up behind the house in the weeds that was built from a 29 model a roadster that had 2 transmissions in it, and a steel wheeled Fordson tractor that my dad used to plow up the lower 20 acres, which is where I learned to drive in his 52 ford pickup when I was 10. He later opened up his own body and paint shop and did some custom bodywork on older fords, chevys and mercs...things like chopping tops, frenching lights and grilles, shaving moldings and handles, putting in air scoops in hoods, molding in fenders to bodies, shortening pickup boxes, bobbing rear fenders, most of this stuff done with 60-40 & 70-30 lead, not bondo. It was his preference. and it was all gas welded, not mig or tig. He came into possesion of a 32 ford 5 window hot rod (full fendered) with a full house merc, dago axle, zephyr gears, 4.11 banjo rear, and primer grey with white reversed mercury wheels with no caps or rings. He did some custom work on it and the guy couldnt pay the bill ($300.00 at the time...1962) so the guy handed dad the title as payment for the work and dad got to keep the car...which I was sure would be my 1st car....not to be. He sold it a couple years later to a guy who made a show car out of it and was later sold to someone in california where it probably still is. I bought a deuce pickup cab for 50.00 that needed about 8 hours of body work to make it cherry, which I did. I later sold it and the frame it came with as a rolling chassis for $750.00.....I'm 61 by the way...still building my coupe and loving it.

 

Back in the 60's the navy air station in south weymouth ma. Extended one of its run ways. Uncle sam built a grate 4 lane road around the navy's property out in the middle of nowear. Well it take us long to measure out a 1/4 mile and mark start and finish.now 40 years later its still called the strip.

 

My first "project" car: 1963 ex-Max Wedge Plymouth Belvedere, name on the front fender "Big Red" (dead giveaway: no underhood X-brace where the hood scoop would be), A833 4 speed, 4.89 8-3/4 rear, with a running 361" replacement engine. In the trunk: bare original 383 343 hp dual quad iron manifold.
A friend took the engine for his toy, I got everything else.
We split the price 50/50.

My share was $42.50.

 

love this stuff.
its funny to here how cool some of the cops were back in the day. where im from you learn to hate them really fast, cant drive 30 seconds without seeing one and there out for blood on weekends. total power tripping dicks too.

 

Damn, Im 23 just leaved my mommy boobs in comparison with you all..

 

Yeah? Well hang on to your shorts, son - you'll be a geezer before you know it !!

 

I graduated in 65...built a 62 chevy ll with straight axle....didnt have a welder then dont know how i built that thing...anyway went to the junkyard with my income tax refund (175$) bought a 427 out of an Impala...installed it with fenderwell headers.....10" slicks...57 chevy rear end.....4:56 gears....cat battery in the trunk.........o well had alot of fun with that car.....did my share of street racing.....got beat a few times and won a few times.........o to go back and visit knowing what i know now....

 

62, and a few months. In the 60's I had a '57 Bel Air convertible, 3 speed O/D. $400.00. On Sundays, I pumped gas in exchange for using the lift. The owner didn't get along with his wife, Sundays he spent sleeping in an old Hudson out back of the station. I traded the '57 convert in on a new Porsche, I got $125.00 for it.

No tire machine, I did it with two irons and a hammer.

 

During high school, I wasn't fortunate as many kids my age to have a car. Matter-of-fact Dad never really had a car very long either. With 6 of us kids, and Mom to feed, he really couldn’t afford one. I can remember when Gasoline was .08 cents a gallon. That was when you pulled up to a gas pump with a tall glass cylinder mounted on top of it, and a long upright pump-handle on the side. The side of the glass was marked in graduated numbers from 1 at the bottom, and I believe it was 10, or slightly more at the top. The attendant pumped gasoline into the glass cylinder, until it reached the height marked for gas ordered, then after inserting the nozzle into the gas tank filler pipe, it drained out. Anyway it really didn't enter my mind that I had to have a car.


Well, Dad had a knack of figuring out many things in advance; little things that would result as a perk. For whatever reason he insisted that I should drive his car to school. The car was a 1941 Oldsmobile 2 door sedan; built like a tank… rode like a dream. Maybe the Good Lord figured I needed a new lesson in life, and decided to use Dad as his helper. It was a simple act.


At school I pulled into the cinder-covered parking lot behind the building, nosed up to a squat, six-diameter barrier pipe, filled with concrete. It was well planted into the ground, but stuck up about three feet. There were several other cars parked in the same row. I was ever so careful not to make contact. I had about a foot between the bumper and pipe. I wanted to prove to others I was a careful driver. On the other side of the pipe was an exit lane crossing in front, that allowed traffic to exit the school ground onto the main highway.


During lunch hour I went out to the car; turned on the radio, and spent a half hour eating my meager lunch. Now and then, I beeped the horn at students I knew, who passed by in front of me. Oh sure, I was showing off; I had driven a car to school. When school let out, I hurried to that big black beauty, wanting to make certain others saw me driving. Most of the students seemed in a big hurry to leave the grounds. Their engines revved up, their tires dug into the cinders, and threw clouds of dirty ash into the air behind them. Well why not, that was a symbol of manly power.


Looking around to see if any one might be watching me, I started the Oldsmobile's engine, revved it slightly… put it into drive, held the brake until it was reaching a high-pitch roar. Only then did I let my foot off of the brake pedal and press harder on the gas. I was going to throw cinders and blow dust just like the others. The car gave a leap forward. I can't recall a greater shock than the resounding bang the front end of the car made, when it tried plowing over a concrete-filled pipe barrier pipe only a foot in front it. The engine died and I sat there thinking for sure I had totaled Dad's car. I hoped and prayed that no one else had witnessed this show of arrogance and stupidity. I collected my thoughts, got out to see if the front end received as much damage as my ego. As I said the car was built like a tank; there was no viewable damage.


I drove home timidly…pulled into the drive in the same manner. I figured Dad would be watching from behind laced curtains. I wanted to show him how careful I was, and how much I appreciated his lending the car to me.

Do I think he ever knew anything might have happened during my maiden voyage? I don't think so, but through him, and under special tutoring from above, I'm certain I was confronted with another lesson not written in the books. It’s called "To Appreciate and Care."


When I did buy my first car, it was a 1936 Dodge 4 door. Believe me "Ol’ Butterball" got the same respect. I’ve had a number of cars since then, but never appreciated the lesson I had been taught, as I got in the Olds. I guess that’s why I’m here today and hope to see my 76th birthday in May.

 

Thanks guys for sharing...awesome stories...keep 'em coming.and to Dabbler,2009 minus 76 [in May]?equals 1933...your still a baby in diapers,share some more great stories baby boy-jj

 

I'm 60, When I was 19 I started work in an office.(first Job) The plant manager got transfered an had to sell his car. A '62 corvette that he had begun to restore. It was in pieces in his garage. frame and running gear on one side, body on the other, and boxes of parts in the basement. (purchase price $10.00) I spent the next 3 months assembling in an unheated garage (Jan and Feb in Iowa). I finally had it running by the first of Mar. I received my draft notice, sold the car and have always wondered where it is now

 

I'm 63 looking at 64 in October. Bought my first car, a 53 Ford coupe, for $100 off a car lot with money from my paper route when i was 15. By the time I could get my license at 16 I'd done the body work and painted it and was working in a gas station. I usually worked afternoons and evenings by myself and closed the place at 11:00. The 53 had the flathead V8 with an automatic. I just had to have a stick shift. So, I collected parts until I thought I had all I needed for the switch. Then on my shift at the Flying A I used the rack and removed the automatic and replaced it with a 3-speed. I had it mostly back together by 11:00, closed the place and was "finished" by 1:00 am or so. Unfortunately, I was unaware that the stick set-up required a different starter plate than the automatic. Needless to say, I was well past the point of no return. It was summertime in the Sacramento area and pretty warm even at 1:00 am. I was able to push it by myself and pop the clutch and got it started. Starting in the morning was pretty easy as there was a hill at my folks' house that gave my a good run. I drove it that way for a week or so until I got the stick starter plate and completed the job.

 

well I'm only 46 but I would like to pass on a few stories from some of those who are no longer with us, Uncle Gene was a story teller, (what we had before radio and TV) some of the best that I remember was he told me when he was abought 14 years old he bought a lot from the U.S. government of abought 25 Model T's, after he won the auction at somewhere around $12 apiece, someone from the government came along and was striking the water jackets on the cylinder blocks with a ball peen hammer and breaking the block so it couldn't be used, he told him if he kept doing that he wasn't going to pay, he stoped. At age 14 uncle gene had a model T junkyard, his mom was not too happy. Uncle Gene lived to be 97 years old, he told me he bought a WW 1 surplus Harley for $15 and rode it everywhere, sold it to buy a car, the girls would not ride on it with him, Uncle Gene mechaniced for his country in WW 2, and later owned an Austin Healy & MG repair shop, then he went into VW's in the 60's and 70's.