Folks Of Interest Near misses that could have ended in a wooden coat, but were just skid marks in your drawers

Something simple not car related has bit many a few times real good . Jump on the kicker with out retarding the timing on an early Harley or have it light half way through your kick stroke. You will be a believer in knee pain , that you thought was never possible . Last time it happened if I wasn’t so far away from home , would have set the ******* on fire and called a cab . Never ride “ ***** “ on the back of your buds scoot even if you have to walk !

 

removing the rear end on my 39 buick, could not get the shock loose, grabbed a grinder with a cut off wheel. The wheel caught on something and the grinder kicked across mu chest into my left arm. The good news was the guard kept it off my chest, the arm not so much.
Of course I was home alone, arm bleeding badly. Jumped in my truck, dead battery. Climbed up stairs
to loft of the barn, grabbed the big charger, dragged it down and started the truck. Went in the house,
washed up a little, changed my shirt, drove to ER. Walked in and told them I thought I needed s***ches.
40 s***ches later, the nurse was telling me I had the right shirt. I had grabbed the first tshirt in the drawer, it was a red cross/give blood shirt.
I now make sure I can use two hands with a grinder.

 

Had a fellow firefighter make a call , House Fire, well it was a cops house and he had loaded guns in there. A round cooked off and shot him in the leg. Was off for a while but healed ok. He got the hard luck award for the year....Hell for the decade.

 

Here is one that could have been bad. The vehicle is not HAMB friendly so enter G***er every place you need mud truck ad you'll be close. Or just don't read it at all.

My racing buddy's kid got a mud truck for his first car. One day I happened into the driveway just I time to see him pull the rear dive shaft loose. Well the truck was on a little slope. He was frantically trying to reattach the drive shaft as it was dragging him down the hill. I managed to get over and pull the door open and apply the brakes with my hand before he was hurt very much. I guess park don't work if the rear driveshaft is disconnected.

It could have been bad and you would have had to have been there but it was funnier than hell. I still rib the kid about it. he's nearly 30 now.

 

“A 1958 black Impala wins the trophy, but goes into the dirt mound at the end of the drag strip…” This could have been the headline in Drag News back in 1959.

Hello,

In late 1957, my brother bought a new 1958 black Impala 348/280 hp, 3 speed. He raced at Lions Dragstrip almost every week. In the beginning, he was usually the last off of the line at the green light. As he got more comfortable,with the added 4:56 gears, he began to beat a lot of cars. Finally, he started winning in the A/Stock cl*** and started bringing home some Lions Dragstrip trophies. That was fun.

Some of the trophies had metal hot rods on top, some had victory statues.

My brother allowed me to drive when I was 15.5 and I was able to get some timed runs in, like the films I took of him racing the Impala. When we see the black on black tires/rims in the back, that was the installation of the Bruce slicks. But, it was only for the timed runs. The whitewalls, all around, were the stock tires for the elimination races.

58 vs 57 Ford eliminations. This one I remember as the one that was almost “the” incident.

Jnaki

We had been racing all day and this 57 Ford was supercharged and winning his elimination races. When we lined up for the elimination race, my nervousness was evident. But, I had practiced in the pits and in the staging lanes to get a good start when the light changed. As soon as the light went blank. I took off and had a good lead. It was close, but then I could not see him as I crossed the finish line. I was so happy that I looked in the rear view mirror without realizing that I needed to slow down.

By the time I realized I won and the 57 Ford was nowhere to be seen, It was awfully close to the end of the dragstrip. There was the wall of sand and chain strung across the actual chain link fence as a final stopping point, prior to the 4 lane, Willow St. Southern end cross street.

I panicked and started stepping on my brakes. I kept this up as the sand berm was coming up. Finally, I turned and skidded to a halt just before the sand berm. The return road racers probably thought I was an idiot going to the end. The incident was something I never want to feel again.
Whew...live to race another day !

It was an occurring nightmare, for a couple of weeks, about crashing into that sand berm and having the 6 red tail lights sticking out of the berm.


another post:
Hello,

In early 1958, my brother and I got a pair of Bruce 7 inch slicks for the 58 Impala. We could run the slicks in the timed runs at Lions, but had to take them off for the A/Stock eliminations. Those 7 inch slicks fit perfectly on the standard Chevy rims and were put in the trunk when we went to the drags. The officials at Lions allowed us to use the slicks during the timed runs, but not for cl*** eliminations.


58 Impala with Bruce Slicks for TIMED RUNS

58 Impala then A/Stock eliminations without Bruce Slicks

Jnaki
How good were they? In those days, it improved the times for the 58 Impala, over the stock tires. On the street, it had to be definitely dry days to drive safely. One time, it was dry to start off the cruising night and after a number of runs at the Cherry Ave. drags, the late evening dew came on fast. (Coastal influence and all...) On the way home, a quick red light around midnight brought on a complete 360 degree spin in the Impala, in the middle of the intersection. All of this came on after trying to stop for that quick, light. Luckily, no one was around on either street or intersection. After that, 5 mph all the way home.

But the traction on any dry surface far surp***ed any cheater slick or regular tire. Plus, they fit under the Impala rear fenders without any mods and they also fit underneath the 40 Willys rear fenders, too. Practically was important for these low buck teenagers.
58 Impala timed run slicks, then eliminations

 

A near miss is a HIT. If you nearly hit something you missed it, so if you nearly missed something you hit it.

 

JNAKI, I think that has happen to a lot of us. But usually only once. Lucky for me, I was in my vette with disk breaks, {1970}. My heart was in my throat, and my knee's were a knocking. It was very scary at the time. But it taught me never to look in the rear view mirror, or worry about what's behind me. Thank's again for all your post, and { COOL Memories } Ron.....

 

A Motorcycle memory this AM, rode for 36 years, cruising on freeway in left lane p***ing traffic and car to my right makes a lane change into my lane just as I'm p***ing, (probably was in his blind spot )I'd swear we touched and I'm up on 4' wide lane against separation barrier at 70 mph, a heart stopper for sure, took a few miles for my heart rate to settle down, thanked my guardian Angel Again and continued on. Ironically only down once hard, junked bike, broken bones left foot, ground several square inches of hide off, my fault, sandy dirty road, in springtime, in corner too fast, front slid out, bike down. I have given some thought to buying a cycle again, I sometimes miss riding but with today's traffic, drivers, everyone looking at their phone and thinking how lucky I am that I lived this long, probably will not. I used to joke about, I'm like a cat with 9 lives, concerned now that I've used them all up. LOL

 

Another 1 of 9 lives story, I rode snowmobiles for many years, still have them but not much riding anymore. I always had the hottest sled you could buy ( had many) and a group of no brainer buddies that I rode too fast with. We are up in UP at Copper Harbor, always a few drinks with lunch and my turn to lead back. I'm haulin *** with my new 800 cc Polaris, I had just put the ****** 196 pic setup on, (too many pic's for trail riding I found out) and missed a corner, off into tree tops I went, now all guessing as I p***ed out when hitting first tree top, I woke up in about 6 feet of snow, got my breath back, moved all my limbs, stood up, Thanked my guardian Angel again. No one came back for a while to find me, looked around found my sled, surprisingly not that damaged, thinking how am I going to get it back up to trail. It appeared it hit tree tops on the way down and landed relativity soft. Finally friend's show up crawl down hill side and agree how ? It was a *****, up hillside 2' at a time with somebody behind it to stop any backward travel, several guys stopped and help hauling it up the hill (Snowmobiler's are like car guys, Good people) An hour+ of hard work, back up on trail, look it over, mostly cosmetic damage, crushed the triple pipes some, but started it, ran ****ty but got back to motel, bought dinner/drinks that night. The year I turned 50 met up with the "Guy's" and found I could not keep up anymore, the tree's never looked so dangerous to me before, met up our pit stop and told them " I'm Done, Balls shrunk or I'm getting Old" LOL I have way too many stories of this type, If we ever meet, shake my hand and maybe some of my Good Luck might rub off on you.

 

Back in the day I traded for a hand formed aluminum bodied roadster more of a sports car in looks then an old car on a cut down 40 Ford ch***is that weighed next to nothing with about as much speed equipment you could get on a Merc flathead and a three speed. One night I had this car balls out as fast as it would go, turned around and drove it straight to my Grandpa's garage. The next day I backed the car out of the garage and went about 20 feet when the right front wheel fell off. I can't tell you how many times I've thought about this over the years. Just thinking what could have been almost makes me hock my drawers. Guess it just "wasn't my time".

Gary

 

I gave up my motorcycle a few years ago for the same reasons. I never crashed but had several near miss, **** in your neck close calls. A lot of drivers either don't see bikes or don't care much for a riders life and limb. We just had a bad Harley/car wreck a few weeks ago near us when the lady in the car was left of center. I will stick to 4 wheels from now on!

 

Ridin' my '80 Shovelhead, on I-10 headed for Las Cruces. They were doing some work in preparation of adding a 3rd lane each way . the lanes were 5" or so taller than a strip about 6" wide between the road and dirt shoulder. I'm in the fast lane p***ing a semi, 1/2 way past the trailer here he comes! I get over as far as I can, he's still coming. I jump down on the little strip at 70 and pray , he moves over, but I'm afraid to try and jump back up on to the lane at that speed. Reflector posts are p***ing under my hand on the LH apehanger as I finally get slow enough to jump back on, truck is long gone , adrenaline shakes are there like me we before. I still ride , but know that they are out to get us and ride accordingly.

Sent from my LG-TP450 using The H.A.M.B. mobile app

 

In high school me and my buddy Dave were racing a 62 Lincoln,he had a 66 Dodge.It was at night on a long straight road,as we hit 120 mph the lights on our Dodge go out.Dave lifted the gas slowly and let the hot rod lincoln go by. We just looked at each other and said wholly ****!We had a 318 4 barrel holley alum intake the Linc. had a 430 I think.

 

I was running at Summerduck, late in the evening and I pitted next to a power pole that had a light on it. It was late, might've been quarter finals and I had problems with my carb, it was a 1050 Dominator and I was adjusting the secondary throttle blades standing on the p***enger side. I had the engine idling whacked the throttle to see how it felt, when I did I felt something whizz past my ear, looked up and saw a bat chasing bugs around the light and thought nothing else about it. We finished running SummerDuck and went to the next track, back then I had a key to the gates of the tracks we'd run at and pull in the pits and spend the night, the next morning I had the front clip off the car, going thru the valves sitting on a front tire and having my coffee, I looked down at the bellhousing when doing the bump switch to find a big old gaping hole in it. When I whacked the throttle the night before a torque converter bolt got sent right thru the TH350 bellhousing just missing my head, I thought it was a bat but it was an ARP 7/16ths bolt! A couple inches to the right and it'd got me right between my eyes! That was before they started making SFI shields for the flexplate.

 

I started working in machine shops in 1964. I would set up and run NC mills. These were the precursor to CNC,s. We did nothing but aerospace parts and often would run magnesium or ***anium. The first mag job I did the boss came over and took a small handful of chips from the machine went over to a clean spot on the floor and lit them off in front of me. He then said keep your chip pans clean, don't smoke and always have an asbestos bucket handy. I never had a problem however some of the other guys did. Back in those days asbestos had many uses. Home heating furnaces when converted from coal to oil were often plastered with asbestos as well as the steam pipes. Looking back sometimes is a little scary when you think about some of the things we were exposed to like DDT and 2-4-D etc. I'm damn glad to still be here and more importantly in good health with most of my marbles intact.

 

Yes, but the casings blow apart and become shrapnel.

 

Changing the driveshaft in my first daily driver. (bronco II lifted to the sky) it ate U-joints as fast as I could put them in. I was smart and pulled it into 4x on the transfer case so that the front axle would hold it, (I thought) but when I dropped the last bolt the shaft came down and the slight incline in the driveway took over.
I attempted to stop it form rolling over me by putting my foot under the front tire. It went right over my foot as I scurried to get out from under. The open door smacked me in the head as it rolled past me and out into the street. Foot swelled up huge. Last time I pulled the shaft without wheel chocks.

 

This is completely non-car related but definitely the stuff of nightmares. I had a friend who grew up in NH and when he was a kid, he and his sister went skating on the river which turned into a race. They hit a patch of open water, went in and under the ice, the river carried them downstream to another opening and they popped up and climbed out. Yikes.

 

Ok, you guys had good ones. Here are a couple of mine:

Cruising on I-75(Sawgr*** Expressway) on a Thur/Fri night right around 2000-2001. Usually I am fast lane, 90+ and moving. I had a hot rod Lincoln Mark VII(mid 12's-daily driver, sleeper) at the time. For whatever reason, I am not in the fast lane, but one lane over. I am cruising about 80 or so, and all of sudden WHOOOSHHHHH past me in the fast lane.... going the OTHER WAY! Some ***hole had gotten on the highway and was going at least 80 in the fast lane going the wrong way. Miracle all the way that I missed that one. I tried called FHP(Highway Patrol) and no answer(no joke). I was sure somebody was going to bite it after that, but nothing, not an explosion or whisper on the news the next day. That's one I didn't see coming.

Another time I was at the gun range, had a el cheapo SKS and was plinking a steel rotating target I had set up...with armor piercing ammo. Found out that was a bad idea as I shot it about the 10th time and the bullet came back at me and whizzed my ear, maybe about 1/2in from it. No more steel targets after that.

There are a few hundred other near misses, but those stick out.

 

When I was 16 I had just installed 3-2's on the 59AB flathead in my '34 pickup. It was late at night, and I couldn't wait to try it out, so I headed to our favorite illegal night time drag strip. We all called it "3M"
because it was about a half mile long street, called Santa Anna, that ran through an industrial district
with the 3M company at one end. This was in East Dallas. Well I wound the old flathead up through
the 3 gears in my '39 trans.(we didn't have "******'s" in those days, sounded too gay). I let off at about
the 1/4 mile point and started to pump the brakes. I heard a clink and a tinkle and the brake pedal
began to swing freely! The previous owner had crudely installed hydraulic brakes with a firewall mounted master cyl. Well the clevis pin on the master was not cotter pinned and popped out onto the
floor. Well all I could do was floor the gas and cram the trans. down into 2nd gear as I was fast coming
to the end of Santa Anna which dead ended into the very busy Garland Rd. over a RR crossing that made a great ramp to launch you into the busy road! The old flathead protested and revved higher than ever before but began to slow me down. Just before the RR tracks I was able to wheel into 3M's
parking lot on 2 wheels. I think I idled around the parking lot a couple of times before I was able to
collect my senses again! I stopped, found the clevis pin, put it back in and drove back home to my
parents house. Whew...what a ride!

 

Were out in Indian Country when this happened and we did not want to spend the night there. So we caught the next one out, we had our crash for the day and the law of averages were in our favor. Our ride home

 

I was making a u turn in my 57 Buick and heard a "bang" under the car. I got out and couldn't see anything so I drove home on the freeway at 65+. The next day I was driving home from work and the car made a hard right turn into a gas station. I got out and investigated and found that all 3 bolts that held the steering gear box were broken. I was a little bit shaken as the realization of what could have happened if the last bolt had broken on the freeway.