Hot Rods Dad's car, what we remember

Oh man, this is a great thread. I have a lot of great memories with my dad and cars. He was really into the oddball european stuff and bikes. Here are a few pics I scrounged up....

 

I still remember the '61 Chevy Biscayne my Dad had when I was little; he and Mom drove it to California and back before I came along; it eventually got so rusty that he put plywood down so I wouldn't fall through the floor! It was a basic four door, six cylinder car - can't recall if it was three-on-the-tree or automatic. He sold it to a coworker who drove it until it rusted away.

 

This was my dad's car, and before him a guy he worked with.
I got it the day I got my license, and drove it till the day I took it apart. Only car for a period of 6 yeard
My first car, my first full build, my biggest project (ever!!), and my first "hot rod".

It might be more like hot-rod-thinking applied, but I'm very proud of it being both mine and my dad's cars!!

 

Sorry forgot the picture

 

Third time is the charm

 

Sweet little Volvo, I had a 63 with a twin turbo 283 in it.

 

Before my time Dad sported a new red 55' Ford Fairlane, loaded to the gill's, with the biggest power. Cool single Air Force officer.

Then a wife and kids came, and four doors, wagons, and Beetles were the driveway norm.

In 73' he totaled a Beetle, and decided he needed some fun. Fun came in the form of a deep blue 63' Austin Healey 3000. A car he commuted in for almost a decade - generally found illegally parked in the shade on the Homestead Air Force Base flight line outside his office. (Nobody would think of towing the Colonel's ride.)

Funny, after wearing out and passing down the Healey to me, he drifted back to sedans . . . . But when the last of us kids were out of the house, it was Mom who got onto a series of usually mildly modified Corvettes.

 

The rides I really remember were the blue65 Impala Dad bought new And riding down the 2 lanes 140 miles to the Alabama Gulf coast.1960s (nothin there then but a few motels and beach) How hot it was with three kids in there with no a.c.(couldnt afford it yet) and how the rows and rows of soybeans looked like a ever moving fan out the window(optical trick). And Dad up there driving, a quiet stoic figure with sunglasses on.Mom keeping it all easy. We'd get to the beach and he'd look out at the horizon, thinking of...Saipan, Guam? or some other beach he got to the hard way.
A few years later,we're driving back from Monroe Louisianna in the 1969 Olds 98 Mom begged him to get 3 years earlier, as she wanted to have one nice car in her life. And it's my brother and I, no mom, she'd died the year before. And there he was, stoic, quiet, the best dad anyone could have had. Not perfect, tough, taught lessons with the belt, but never wrong. I know lots of guys who never knew their father, as someone to look up to.
The Olds is sitting in a junkyard that my brother sold it to 25 years ago. In the shade of a large bush. The key has been in my pocket 24 years. Was on a keychain in the ignition with a leather pouch with pictures of Dad's kids and wife.
Pics are in the lockbox his death certificate is in. The key to the olds is on my keychain with keys to my RoadRunner.

 

I got 4 short ones.
#1 First car I rode in: 1948 Buick Super 4 door, sun visor Dynaflow.
From '51-'52 I rode the arm rest in the back seat facing foreward!
#2 - 1955 Plymouth Savoy. I fell out of it onto the street on Broadway in Kingston NY
in about 1957. Dad drove around the block and came and picked me up!
First thing he said was, "Don't ever tell your mother!''
#3 Dad was looking to buy another car. About 1964. I found him a
really sweet 1955 Chrysler 300. It only had 45.000 miles on it.
I knew it was awesome and that soon I was getting my license!
It was $600 and he was ready to buy it until I opened the hood.
He looked in and said, 2 four barrels, "Wow it will take too much gas!"
He bought a more sensable 1955 Dodge Custom Royal Lancer!
Last but not least, His last car: in 1970, a 1964 Pontiac Bonneville, coupe.
Had it 2 years, let me trade it for a '62 Vette! He said I can drive your '52 Chevy
'till we find another car.
He died 2 days before Christmas 1972.
I still miss him every day.

 

My Dad enjoyed going to the stock car races, but I never thought of him as a car guy. When I came along in '59 he had a 53 Ford and a 59 Ford Ranch Wagon. He was a carpenter and the 53 was his work car. He took the back set out so he could haul his tools and materials. One Saturday he went to the lumber yard and bought a 10 or 12' 2x12. There was a lady sitting in a car near where he was parked when he came out with the 2x12. When he opened the trunk she looked at him like he was crazy for thinking he could fit a 10 or 12' board in the trunk. He pushed the 2x12 in over the backrest of the front passenger seat clear to the windshield. It just fit inside the trunk. He closed the trunk lid, turned towards the lady in the nearby car and said "those old Fords sure have big trunks". As he drove away she was looking around as if she thought she was on Candid Camera.

As a teenager and young man Dad had several early Fords. A couple of T's, a couple of A's, a 32 coupe, I think a second 32, a 36 coupe, a 4o sedan, and a 46. There might have been a 33 or 34 in the mix too. Since he always drove sensible boring cars once he had kids, I didn't think of him as a car guy......but then I remembered him talking about the finned aluminum heads he put on his 32 coupe.

 

The best and most fond memories of my dads cars growing up were of his Canary Yellow 1979 or '80 Chevy Malibu Wagon. I think my mom called it the canary bomb. The headers on that old V8 leaked so it sounded like a hot rod with open headers. I'm pretty sure that there wasn't a muffler left on the car and that it was replaced with straight pipe. When ever my dad would start the beast, a black plume of smoke would emanate fourth from the tail pipe. It got so bad that by the time my dad sold it off there was almost a permanent black stain on the grass. Inside the car was just a little bit better. The headliners fabric was pulling away from the insulation and held on with thumb tacks from my moms classroom supplies. She always hatted when her supplies went missing. At least she knew where they were going and or where they could be found.
The seats had pin holes and tears all throughout from over use and wear and tear. I remember going on camping trips with him and we would have the smokers vent windows open and the radio blasting classic rock. Its what i grew up on and I will always cherrish these memories. A.H.