17 years old. '67 Chevy pickup 283/3 spd. Left the gas station where my buddies were hanging out and did a nice burnout. Cop came out of nowhere. He says, "let me guess...throttle stuck?" I said yup. He notices the gallon of orange juice on the seat next to me and looks all over the cab with his flashlight. Wants to look behind the seat but nothing but gas tank back there. He finally lets me go with warning. Never noticed the half gallon of Peachtree schnapps tucked on the little platform between the grille and core support. People have accused me of being too paranoid over the years...but it can save your ass.
17 and crusin in my 57 Pontiac. Had beer in the low well in front of the radiator with bags of ice on it. Heading out to party. Punched it and lit the tires a bit. Cop sees me and pulls me over. Starts lecturing me about chirping the tires. I was polite and he said your car is leaking water! I said I know-it runs hot sometimes-car never ran hot. He said Ok get going and don't do that again --yes sir!! Same car-I street raced it alot and the Cops were after all of us. One night I raced a guy in a 58 Vette way out of town. They were watching us and here they came with the lights but way back. I was far enough ahead that I knew I could make the curve by the lake and go under the bridge- no problem. Rounded the long curve before the bridge and there were two CHP's blocking the road. Did'nt end well-5 days locked up-provisional license etc etc. Was 1961-my last speeding ticket-but it was a dandy!!
me too....on the side mirror....at the park - for the Sunday cruise - after he's looked me over a good while - he said - you know why I pulled you over - thought it was my Thrush muffler's...but I saw him coming so I idled it...didn't have a clue really...so I said my side mirror......think he didn't have a clue either - but said yep....and wrote me a ticket for that....forgot to put the new one on...also it was an early 1965 Cuda....it was known for those Thrush dumps....my 1964 396 Chevy also got a "rapping the pipe's" as I blew through and intersection one nite going through the gears....
Well, this might get a little long winded, but here goes. The town I grew up in (I won't name it here), had a fiberglass factory that produced portable toilets, like the plastic ones you see nowadays. This same company also manufactured pre-fabricated exterior walls from plywood, framed by 2"x4"s that were joined together to make buildings. The factory building itself was built in this way. The fiberglass company went bankrupt in the late 1970's, and the property was abandoned. By 1979, all of us local hoodlums were using that old factory building ( it was approximately 80' x 300') as our workshop/garage/storage area. It was down a little gravel lane, and sat back far enough that it could not be seen from N. State St. On New Year's Eve, 1979, I had just turned 18, had a girlfriend who was not quite yet 18, and had a 1968 400 Firebird (like a lot of guys on here). Well, my girlfriend and I decided to celebrate the holiday drinking beer while parked inside the old factory. We drove down there, and were backing into the building when my buddy, Buck James, pulled in after us. He didnt realize that I had my girlfriend with me, and when he did, he turned around to leave. He just started down the lane when the police drove in (Buck had seen me pull, in, the police had seen him pull in, and it was getting crowded). Now I started to panic, because my underage half drunken girlfriend's dad was also the dispatcher for the police dept. On duty. That night. Creeping out of the factory building with my lights off, I could see just enough room to squeeze past the police cruiser, and 400 cubic inches of Pontiac came to life.
Darn phone cut me off again. We shot out of there, throwing gravel all over, while being ordered to "Halt! Stop!", and hit N.State, went left and through the light at Shafer going 90 in third gear. Shot up N. State and turned left on Miller, Right on Walker and then left into my mom's driveway at the end of the street. Left the Firebirdthere and transferred the beer and ourselves into mom's Nova, and went out again to welcome in the new year. Oh, I also forgot to mention that my girlfriend lived just afew short doors down Walker, and even though we never admitted it, her father of course figuredit out. Thank God we nevere hurt or killed anyone with all of our shenanigans
And old Buck James, to this day still cusses at me for leaving him there like that, but they let him go after a few minutes. And, he was no angel either, earlier that summer he got cited on a Yamaha for going 95 in a 10.
When I was a 16 year old a small town police officer said " I do not want to see this black Ford in my town again." My solution I painted the top white. I never drove that car thru Graysville Alabama again.. Later he comes up to me at Lassiter Mountain Drag Strip out of his area and tells me that I was a smart ass. He later lost his job because he gave the Mayors aunt a hard time. Small town politics in Bama.. I have lots more maybe I will post later..
1977 ... 17 years old. A buddy and I drove 3 hours to Tallahassee from Tampa in my 65 Mustang. 55 mph national speed limit. I get clocked doing 73 mph in a heavy rain in a rural area halfway home. The state cop doesn't want to stand in a downpour, so I get invited to sit in the passenger seat of his car. He runs my license, etc. All clear. He turns to ask me "OK kid, can you please explain why you were driving 18 mph over the speed limit in a heavy rain?" I replied, "Well sir, to fully understand this, you have to be inside my car. My buddy took his shoes and socks off, and there is something seriously biologically wrong with him. You would not believe the smell in there." He laughed until he cried. He told me that was the BEST excuse for speeding ever! Wrote me up for 62 in a 55, so it would be a lower point value and fine. Thanked him profusely and went on my way.
When I lived back in N.J. I had just bought a 1955 black Buick special from Perth Amboy and was heading back home to my country town in Califon. N.J. I was heading north on RT.287 and I opened the Buick up to see what she would do. I know I was close to 100. It was just getting dusk and out of a gully{between the north and south bound lanes} came a cop with both of his bubble gum lights going coming after me. I thought oh crap I am going to get a ticket but just as the cop pulled in to the fast lane a old man in a big old caddy hit him. The last thing I saw was his lights spinning back off in to the gully again in to grass. I hauled ass home and kept the Buick hidden for a week .{even though i was a good hour from where I had bought the car}Another close call. Young and stupid. LOL. Bruce.
I got so many tickets during my teenage driving years that when I got married at 21 years of age I had 2 points left on my license. It's ironic as to how my warning tickets I got for loud mufflers and today it's rare for anyone to get ticketed for mufflers. Racing through town on main street in the wee hours of the morning is how I lost my license,and a lot of fun tickets. HRP
LOL in Missouri the ticket is the least of the cost on a moving violation, you also get put on high risk insurance for 7 years. My favorite violation ever didn't happen to me but I was deeply involved. My little brother (RIP) and I were doing bleach burnouts on our bikes in the Town Square ( you know you're old when you remember the town square as a place and not a person ) and his bike squirted out from under him. We were in the county seat so out from the Sherriff's office/courthouse walks a County Mounty and hands him a ticket. He smiled at me and said, "I'll get you next time."
Back in the mid '60's during my street racing days I had just beat another '63 Ford with my '63 Ford. The 1/4 mile race was on a deserted street in an industrial park after midnight. I went back to pick up my friend who had flagged us off. I pulled around the corner and we both got out to cap up my plumbing pipe exhaust cutouts. He got his side spun on but I dropped mine and was fumbling in the dark trying to find it when a pair of headlights appeared at the end of the street. He hollered out "it's a cop". I found the cutout cap but did not have time to spin it on the exhaust pipe. As the cop car approached I jumped up, opened the hood and yanked out the coil wire. The cop pulled up and asked us what we were doing. I told him that we came around the corner and the engine just died. He got out with his flashlight and shined it on the engine. I said I thought I heard a noise under the car and laid back down. This time I spun the cutout cap on with the first try. About that time the cop spotted the coil wire pulled out of the coil. He said here's your problem. I put the coil wire back in place and fired the engine up. He smiled at us as we thanked him and he got in the cop car and went on his way.
Back in the late 50's my '40 Plymouth coupe's (milled head dual exhaust Loud) transmission went out. Ran to the wrecking yard and got it in so we could head for the drags in Shelton. Driving down old 99 I came up to a cop car and my buddy said are you going to pass the cop. I was on the inside lane and told him look I going 50 mph which was the speed limit. He pulls me over and asked if I was trying to race him. After thinking about it for a while I realized I didn't change the speedo gear. He did write me a ticket.
My first ticket came when I was 17 in my first car, a 57 chevy with a 12.5/1 301ci. I was headed out of town opening morning of deer hunting about 5:30. I caught up to a long line of traffic doing 45 mph through some hills and valleys. Nobody wanted to pass and there were 11 cars ahead of me. As the line crested a hill and again nobody went I pulled out and took off. The car behind me also pulled out. I knew I could make it but didn't know if he could. I floored it, buried the speedometer and got by and slowed to 65. The other car finally did too and turned the red lights on and pulled me over. He asked me what I have in there because he was only up to 75 and passed 3 cars when I had passed the entire line. I got a ticket for 5 mph over the limit.
Turn that into a X-Mas card and send it to your insurance agent. Been a very L-O-N-G time since I had a ticket, but those I did get, I never hung onto. I am Butch/56sedandelivery.
My brother in law was one of those guys that couldn't resist when he saw water on the pavement. Sitting at a light and noticed water running down the street, expected him do a "water burnout" until I saw a cop pull up to the light to our right. BIL never noticed him and lit them up hard (big block Chevelle), cop lights come on. He pulls over, jumps out and has the hood open before the cop even walks up on him. Told the cop he didn't know what happened, motor just "took off". Just as I get out and walked up cop was very proud he found the problem, return spring had popped off, held his flashlight while we put it back on and sent us on our way with a warning that we better have a mechanic take a look at it. To this day I can't believe A; he thought of it and B; he got that spring popped off that quick with the air cleaner on. In high school I got stopped one night driving my brothers Ranchero out at our local street racing place. Just one of those random police roadblocks they would do, check for beer, uncapped pipes, current tags, anything they could harass us for to discourage us from going out there. I could not find the registration anywhere, cop threatened to impound the car, I kept explaining it's my brothers car and didn't know where he keeps it. Finally he told me to go but shined his flashlight on the hood and said he didn't want to see me out there again and would recognize me (silver flake with candy panel paint, was the 70's). Thought no more about it till the next night when my brother got home a "little" pissed at me, guess where he had been in his Ranchero and guess who else was there. Did I mention we are twins that looked so much alike we could switch on our dates? Guess after a lot of pleading that "my brother had my car last night" the cop finally asked where the registration was, when he took it out of his wallet he believed us and took the hand cuffs off my brother. After verifying we were not triplets he sent him on his way as well with the warning neither one of us were to be out there again.
The Jalopy Journal
