I'm looking for stories from before you were old enough to drive. Stories of finding cars in a ravine, playing in cars in fields, old cars abandoned, etc. I'll start. I have a few. One of the earlier ones I remember must have been when I was about 9. I remember walking up this old Creek bed. It was dry as it tended to only run a few months in the spring. Anyway, I was walking along for awhile when I discovered the remains of some old cars. The only one that sticks out to me was some kind of a car with no top. There were no floors in it and it was on its side. I remember going home and telling my dad about a really old car I found that was so old it must've had wood floors in it. Wasn't until years later that I had the knowledge to know that what I'd seen was probably an old T or A roadster. It would have probably been rust free as most things around where I grew up only developed surface rust. By the time I realized what it was, it'd been pushed into a pile along with all the scrub brush etc and burned to clear the land for a new home.
I wrecked my mom's car when I was 4, pulled it out of Park, and it backed down the drive and smack into a neighbor's house contractor's car.
We used to drive by this house with a 53 or 54 Chev that sat in the orchard. I was going to be driving in a few years and asked my dad what he thought. He was all for it as it reminded him of the first car him and my mom had. 53 Chevy. Anyway, went and looked at it. It was solid and seemed like a good car. I asked the owner how much and he said $400. That seemed like a pretty good price to me. One condition is my dad wanted me to call my grandpa and ask him what his thoughts might be as he'd been a mechanic for many years. He said they came with 16 inch wheels and they might be hard to find tired for. I was worried about having a car I couldn't enjoy. I ended up passing on it. I've kicked myself ever since. I mean a simple wheel change would've done the trick. I was young and naive.
ok.....so my dad and I were up Mill Creek fishing. Went further up than I'd been before in dad's old 54 GMC 3/4 ton and where the road went over the creek, we found a 27 T coupe body. The cat that made the road had pushed dirt/gravel over the cowl, anchoring it to the ground pretty good. The ol man shoveled a good part of it off and he had 3/8th chain long enough to go from the T body up to the gravel road. He hooked it to his pickup and tugged and pulled........spun tires and cussed 'till it was plain we didn't have enough traction to pull the ol body out of the hole. We went home and I was disappointed because at 13, it could have been the start of my new 1st car! about 10 years later I'd split rent with my cousins on a nice little house on Mill Creek road, about 15 miles from the forgotten T coupe. One day I came home from work in my black 64 'vette coupe to find a 27 coupe body parked in the driveway. My cousins had known about the body for years and finally borrowed their dad's Toyota land cruiser 4X4 to yank it outta that hole. I told them my story and they said they grabbed it to sell and finance a big keg party at the house. They let it go for $250 [by then it was 1970] and we threw a party that made local history! I had my corvette and I was very happy with it....didn't care to build an old ford at that time. Wish I had it today!
When i was 10 or 12 my Dad took me to a buddies house, he me gave a ride in a Morris minor pickup with 671 blown sbc. We were sideways in a cloud of smoke most of the time. It had an effect on me!
When I was 5 years old I drove my dads 1950 Ford dump truck down the block and up onto the neighbors lawn by pushing the starter button! He had left it in gear and I just happened to figure out if I hit the starter button the truck would lurch forward. So, I guess you could say I started driving at 5 years old!
Another time, my friend and I went for a walk along the base of this large hill. We found what was probably an old Dodge truck from the early 40s. Just abandoned out along this deer trail. We must've sat and played in there for quite awhile. I remember when we got home our parents asked us where we'd been as we'd been gone so long.
Maybe when I was around 12 or so. We stopped along the road and I remember seeing the remains of a late 20s/ early 30s coupe mashed up along the embankment. Had I been older I'd have dug it out. Sure wish I could find stuff like I used to. It's all been cleaned up or rusted away.
I think the first time I ever saw a car laying on its roof was in the mid 60's, I think I was 10 or 11 years old, it was in an area near some woods where we played not a wrecking yard. I knew a little about cars but what had me really scratching my head was seeing an early 50's Mopar that had the park brake mounted on the end of the transmission. It scarred me for life!
I've told this in the past. Back in to 60's we had a neighbor that lived behind us on a corner lot, Mr. Burton was his name, I never knew his first name and from the time I was 11 years old I cut his grass during the summer. He drove a 53/56 Ford truck to work and had had some kind of accident and walked with a bad limp that's probably why I cut his grass. Anyway,I would go to his barn and get what I needed to do his yard work and there half covered with a old canvas army tent was a 32 Ford 5-window coupe. I always looked forward to entering that sacred tomb each summer until that day in early June 1962 he told me that my services were no longer needed, he explained that he was moving up north to live with his sister and ask me did I want the lawnmower to go into business cutting other folks yards, I gladly went to the shed to retrieve the mower and gaze one last time at the coupe which had not moved the whole time we lived next to him. I ask him if he gonna drive the old car to his sisters or pull it and he said No, son I'm going to sell the old gal and I fired back how much? His answer was already established because 75 bucks came back as quick as I ask. I'll buy it I said. He looked at me and said we need to talk to your dad and not wanting my dad to say no I told Mr. Burton I would talk to dad tonight when he gets home from work. Next dad I sat outside Mr. Burton's front door and it seemed to be a eternity but I knew he worked second shift and I didn't dare wake him up thinking it just might screw things up. Around noon he exited his house and ask how long had I been there and if I had discussed the sale with my dad? I told him I just came over a few minutes ago and dad said it was OK with him. BTW, I never once said a word to my dad because I really didn't need the money having robbed my cigar box and with grass cutting money,birthday money and my entire life savings I had enough money and some change, enough money to buy the coupe and fix it up. I was 12 years old and didn't have a clue , I didn't know what I do today. So, I handed Mr. Burton my hard earned cash and we proceed to unearth the coupe. Man,That car was nice and it still had original black paint,flathead V8,and all 4 tires were flat but I had the biggest grin on my face as I fought with all my might trying to guide it as Mr. Burton pulled it behind his truck across his yard into my parents side yard. I was the happiest kid in the world for about three hours. That was when my dad got home and the first words out of his mouth was what was that junk car doing in our yard? from there it got ugly when he called Mr. Burton and woke him up, remember Mr. Burton worked 2nd shift and was a little more than annoyed,then he and dad got into a debate about not clearing it with him first and that I was 12 years old and had no business with a car and for him to come and get it out of his yard and if he wanted to keep the money Danny gave you for lying to us both and he would take care of me. Hearing my dad say he would take care of me I knew exactly what was gonna happen, they don't call this part of the country the Bible Belt for nothing. Heavy on the belt, to make a long story coming to a end Mr. Burton gave me my money back and had a big laugh and within a couple of days a few days both he and the car were gone,, never to be seen again. Many years later my dad and I talked about what had now become known as the ol' ford incident and how he never dreamed that I would ever be able to restore and build cars from the ground up and how badly I wanted that car and how he was proud of me when people would stop by our business and ask about the different cars that I would drive to work. At that time the 32 Ford coupes were already reaching unheard of prices and he just couldn't believe it. A few weeks before my dad passed away the subject came up again he said I sure hope you find a old coupe like that one someday and I told him it was probably a good thing he didn't let me keep it I would have tried to made a hot rod out of it and gotten myself killed! He smiled and said Nobody will ever know son we can't go back but if I could I you would let to keep that car. All you guys got is my word on this because all the players are deceased with the exception of myself and nobody knows what happened to that 32 coupe back in the summer of 1962 but I'm willing to bet the owner ain't 12 years old! Just a footnote to the story, I did get the lawnmower and used it to add additional cash to my cigar box and purchased a 1954 Ford a couple of years later, with dad's approval this time. HRP
Super good story Danny. I know exactly what you mean about the belt. Oh yeah,,,,,,,but,,,it all was to teach us right from wrong. I bought my first car when I was 16 ,,,,without permission either. No big deal really,,,,just shocked them a little. It helped me to learn what I needed to know ,,,to help me through life. Tommy
Cool story Danny. I may have told mine before too. But our old stories get better each time we tell them. lol When I bought my first car a 1931 Chevrolet. I had heard it advertised on a free helping hand radio show for $30. I was 14 years old. I had it towed to my grandads farm. As my mom and dad would never let me drag an old jalopy to our home. I was reading Drag Cartoons, and other Hot Rod rags at the time. So I pictured cutting the front door section out. Then getting rid of the fenders, hood, etc. I envisioned a blown Hemi, with slicks stright axel etc. Think the { purple people eater. } I got my hacksaw out and cut it up. But that's as far as I got. I did buy a sweet 38 Chevy coupe when I turned 16 that was a driver, and on the road. Both old crappy photos were taken at the same place on my grandads farm. But my dreams of building that 31 Hot Rod were priceless.
Behind grandma/grandpa's house were three if I remember 40's or 50's cars.....we use to jump from one to the other as hard as we could....pushing the tops further and further down.....what fun.....
I had a friend in school, and we were hanging out together almost every day. One day he asked if i wanted to go to his grandpa's with him and i did. It was a big farm with a lot to do. When we went out behind the barn there was an old truck with a flatbed, i don't remember what year but it was in the mid thirties. It had writing on the doors advertising a dry cleaning business. I was crazy about that truck! We were about 13 years old at the time and he wasn't into cars, but i was. His uncle was there and i asked if they would sell the truck, his uncle said yep, $150! Might as well been a million cause i didn't have any money lol. But then his uncle said "let me show you this old car" we went across the bottom to a building that had a lean to shed on the side, and under a bunch of crap was a 40 Ford sedan, blue flake, chrome reverse wheels, sweet ass pleated vinyl interior white and blue metalflake, and a 283 with a 4 speed. The car belonged to my friends uncle that got killed. I asked what they was gonna do with that car and he said it's for sale too.... $800!!!! Well long story short, my buddy ended up going to the pin about 6 or 7 years later, and this guy, armed with a pocket full of money headed back towards a place they called iron hill, found his uncle, who told me that they sold the sedan, and junked the truck. The moral of this story is, well i don't know the moral, but now i think I'll sit here and cry once again.
Here ya go. Washed the inside of my Moms car with a hose. The 58 Merc held water to the inside door handles. Same car later on, poured sand down the defroster vents, not quite sure why on that one. Spray painted the spokes on my bike up against the Merc. Black on salmon in a fan pattern wasn't a great look. Thing I remember most about that summer was I couldn't sit down for most of it. Mom wasn't very PC, and the only time outs were when she took a breath or was rubbing her wrist.
I played in a 36 Chev sedan behind what is now my garage when it belonged to my grand parents and they parked the car behind the garage and left it after buying a 48 Fleetline new in 48. My grandmother planned for the 36 to be mine but my grandfather sold it for 10 bucks to a neighbor kid. I was five or six at the time. I used to hunt on the square mile that I live on in ours and the neighbors fields and back in the 60's they hadn't filled in all the sloughs that ran though the area and it was good pheasant hunting. I was hunting about 3/4 of a mile or so behind the house and came upon this 27 roadster body. I found the farmer who owned the land and he after asking why the the hell I wanted that piece of junk gave it to me. I got my grandfather to take his 48 1 ton flatbed over and help me load it up and haul it home. The chassis and flathead came from my buddy Bill Omlin who built the frame. It all was a lot rougher than it looked but a teenager didn't know a lot in those days. Wish I had that body now as it was pretty nice for having laid out in a field for years. I did and still do live on a major north South highway and back in the 60's it was pretty common for old cars to get abandoned on the road in front of the house. Some characters abandoned a shoebox Ford coupe in front of the place one day and took off running up the road after they blew it up. It donated a battery and some tools to the cause before the state patrol had it towed. Best early car memory is that my Uncle Vernon Davison left his 50 Mercury parked at our house when he was in Korea during the Korean war. I never messed with it but spent a lot of hours sitting and looking at that car and dreaming about having one like it. When he got back he took me for a ride in it and that was big time for me.
Are you suggesting I build a book? wright as to build something or make repairs.. Your snarky comment is lost in translation, I have lived a lot of years but I really don't think If I were to WRITE a book my bio that it would be very interesting to the masses. If I should write a book would you like a autographed copy? HRP
I wrecked my mom's car when I was 4, pulled it out of Park, and it backed down the drive and smack into a neighbor's house contractor's car. I did the same thing when I was 4 but in the process, I jumped out of the car and fell with my legs behind the front wheel and the wheel rolled over them. I screamed and my dad looked out the front window, me crawling up the driveway and his car sitting across the street in their front yard, missing their car by 2-3 inches. My parents flagged down a police car and got an escort to the hospital. When we arrived, I started walking to the door. Bruises, no broken bones or permanent damage. Never got to play in the car again.
It was the third of June On that younger day Well I became a man At the hands of a girl Almost twice my age Wait a tic... not me, that was a Neil Diamond song. Never mind.
Here's another funny story from when I was a teen. The local Chevrolet dealership would have a big president's day sale each year on the 22'nd of Febuary. They would put their junk jalopys that they just wanted to get rid of, on the rear roll of used cars. Then they advertised they had cars starting as low as $22.00 They were all in very bad shape, and did't run. I knew a guy that worked there. He said he'd tow one for me for free. So I picked out a 1963 Chevy wagon, and bought it for the $22 dollars. I know now, that it wasn't in that bad of condition. Back then I hated wagons. My idea was to use it to make a movie. At the time. They were showing us those { signal 30} safety driving movies at school. My parents had an old 16m.m. movie camera. So I had it towed to my grandads farm. I got it running, and then borrowed a battery from my grandads old 50 Studebaker farm truck. I taught myself to drive on that old truck. But that's another story. I made a driver for it using a stuff trash bag. Also my moms mannequin head, with one of her wigs. No I didn't ask permission to use any of these things. There's this large long hill side on the farm. I got my best friend to get the wagon rolling down the hill, by dropping it in gear with the throttle wired wide open. I did the filming from about halfway down the hillside. The old wagon picked up speed going down the hill. There is a small stream at the bottom of the hill, and a woods just beyond that. My grandad had all his junked cars, and farm equipment there { his junk hole}. All farmers had one. They never got rid of anything. Well back to my story. The old wagon started bouncing and the crash dummy lost her head. lol As the wagon got near the bottom of the hill, the front wheels cut to the right about 50' from the stream. Then it rolled onto its top. I still remember the wheels turning in the air. So that was my first, and last low budget movie. lol My friend and I laughed ourselves silly. But we had a lot of FUN Ron......
Lived in the country in those days 1945 to 1957. Had a river running through it. Also had a diary farm, with a couple of hundred milk cows. The river boarded one edge of the pasture land, and along side the milk barn. Must have been a good mile of steep bank from the road to the water. The diary farmer lined the bank with old junk cars, stacked next to and on top of each other to hold the bank in. My school buddies and I would crawl around in side those that we could get into and pull out the gauges if we could. Those junkers were in every position you could imagine. One day I was in one when the one it was resting on started sliding toward the river. The one it was resting on went into the river, the one I was in stopped just short. Scared the living crap out of me and my school friends. We never went back. Also had to return 32 Victoria just before I turned 16, (1955) because my dad thought it was junk (to old). It was a driver, brush painted black with lime green spoke wheels. I had cut the old mans grass just up the street from me for years. One day after getting off the school bus and walking home by his place he called to me asking if I was 16 yet. Told him not yet but in a month I would be. He called me over into his old unpainted garage with a single light hanging down to show me the Vicky, asked me if I wanted it. If so I could have it, just continue cutting the grass and do a little more around the place. He couldn't keep up the place because of his age. You know what I said. He backed it out, put me in the drives side, showed me how to drive it while taking it home. Talk about being in 7th heaven......... Our dad got home from his job a Boeing every day a 4:10 and that day was no different. My brother and I were cleaning it up when he pulled in. "Where did that piece of junk come from" he asked. He drove a new 54 Merc. I told him about Mr. Smileys giving it to me and he demanded I take it back. I was always afraid of my Dad (even as a grown man,)well maybe respected his ways is a better way to put it as an adult. So back it went and as far as I knew it was still there the day I left home for the Air Force (2) years later.
I bought a 34 ford roadster that had sat on a side street near me for a long time. I paid $45 and we dragged it home. I was too young to know what the hell I was doing. Anyway I brought the grill shell to school, in 9th grade metal shop and made a solid insert for it. (cool). I ended up selling it for $ 65 after my father told me to get that piece of crap out of the driveway. It was great time to be a Kid.
I have always lived on the same street but in 2 different houses in my 50 year of life. Going back to the mid 1970s is a large forest a half mile from my house and in one small patch of bush there was a 20x20 log cabin. Outside the cabin doors is a 1930s sedan melted into the forest floor - you couldn’t tell where the car ended and the ground started. We would always peer inside car but didn’t go inside because it looked like a great place to get a spider bite. Inside the cabin it looked long forgotten but like someone had just walked away a long time ago. Of course the car and cabin are long gone now but I remember roughly where they were -maybe I should go back with a metal detector?
I was always fooling around any junk car I could find from the time I was a little kid. We were at a family reunion one time held at my great uncles farm. Being typical farmers they never got rid of anything when it broke down or wore out so there was a bunch of cars, trucks and tractors in the back field. My cousin and I grabbed a couple screw drivers, vise grips and a adjustable wrench and went through some of the junk and came back with some treasures( knobs, emblems, little things like a little kid could get off pretty easy) and put them in the trunk of Dad's Buick. The next day I was unloading the stuff from the trunk when Mom saw me and asked where that stuff came from so I told her we "found it" at the reunion. When Dad came home I was in deep shit and got my ass warmed up pretty good. The next weekend he drove me and my cousin back to the great uncles farm with the loot. The old uncle said that was just junk and we could keep it but Dad made us take it back and put the stuff back inside the cars and trucks we had took it off of anyway. Lesson learned!! Another time when I was about 12 the neighbor kid had a clapped out 53 Chevy that his grandpa gave him. He had a "race track" in a cow pasture and we would beat hell out of that old Chevy. One day after a rain he was showing me how to slide around the corners and it slid so well that we hit a ditch and rolled it. It came back on 4 wheels and we were banged up a little but not hurt too bad. We got it started and took off again only to have a tie rod drop off and we ran through a board fence and almost hit his grandma's chicken house. That pretty much ended the Chevy and the race track days for us.
The Jalopy Journal
