Hot Rods What was your closest call to disaster while driving vintage car

When i had the 65 375 hp Vette and my nephew had a 63 fastback Vette after a few drinks we decided to see who was faster . We were on a ramp going unto Rt. 100 I told him I'll give him a head start he will start at end of ramp and i'll start at top of ramp. We got flagged off and that quick I was on his bumper , so i cut the wheel sharply left and spun into the grassy center strip . I was told I did 3 spins , and I let go of the wheel , ended up back on highway going the right direction with no damage . Just to set things straight I quit drinking back in 1973 !

 

Was teaching a young person to drive a 1932 Dodge Brothers truck. Getting ready to pull out from a parking lot to the road, I said “clear”, as the nearest oncoming car was a long ways away. The young driver took so long to engage the clutch and start moving into the road that the oncoming car, which did not give up an inch, nearly T-boned us. Scary. It’s not my truck.

 

did not see the traffic signal until I was at the crosswalk way back in 1976 in my 1949 Chevy coupe. locked 'em up, car had great brakes!! it was not that I didn't see it was red, I didn't see it at all. probably only had my license for a month or so.

that was the first of only two times locking the brakes in 44 years of driving. second time I was going fast in some twisty turns and a deer ran out in front of me. that car was not "vintage" even though it would be 47 years old today

 

Driving down the road, without a care in the world. Saw a small group of people standing on the sidewalk with their pitbull. Just as I'm almost on them this dumb ass grabs at his dog, who isn't on a leash, and the dog leaps into the street to get away! I slam on the brakes to keep from having dog damage to my frontend from this big sucker, and smoke is rolling off all 4 tires as I come to a stop and bump the dog. Dumb ass starts laughing like it's funnier than Hell. I really wanted to get out and throw him out in front of the next car that passed by!

 

I've got two of them.
When I was 15 dad had me bring fuel to him where he was combining oats for the neighbor, the pickup was an early 55 Chevy and the road was dirt. I was going hell bent for election and hit a soft spot in the road and started whipping side to side, into the ditch and darn near rolled it back on it's wheels. There was a big jack floating in the cab with me and I don't remember even a bruise. I was an only child so that probably the only thing that saved my life. That and my dad was just a darn nice guy.
The second was many years later, the 38 Chevy in the avatar was running original front suspension and steering. I had went through and "rebuilt" it as best I could. In the 70's you couldn't YouTube a video on how to do everything like you can now. One night after work I was driving home, I lived a few miles from Atlantic Iowa and was about a half mile off of hwy 71 and as I got ready to make the left turn the steering wheel suddenly must have changed to Power, since there was no effort....nor any results from my spinning the wheel. Since I was going slow by that time the crown of the road just eased me onto the shoulder. I walked the half mile home, got some tools and reattached the drag link that had fell of. Not too long before that I had been to a car show at Red Oak and was leading my friends back home at 100 MPH. Things could have gotten ugly.

 

Hello,

As teenagers, we liked to be outdoors and doing something, rather than be stuck indoors. There were several lengthy days that sports got cancelled at school, the parks were too wet and muddy for any activity. Even the shoreline in Long Beach looked brown from the crap floating down the LA River to the LB Harbor.

Taking a long drive down the coast in our 1940 Flathead powered Ford Sedan Delivery and stopping at every surf spot and pier did not make it any better. The rivers all emptied their stuff picked up from inland and washed it out to the ocean at every place from Long Beach to San Clemente to the south. It did look awful.

There was no South Swell breaking at the mouth of the LA River and we would not go in there, anyway. Try dodging floating logs, tree branches and just "crapola" floating down from inland LA. Ughhh!

The Northern storms usually bring good waves to the West and North facing beaches. They did, but the water was a health hazard with the floating stuff all around. Back then, we did not know about the bad bacteria floating around the waters in So Cal during and after any storm. The mantra was, if it looked awful, then it is not good to go out surfing. Nowadays, there are health warnings from every known state official to tell people to stay out of the polluted waters during and after a storm.

So, after several days of being locked in place during a week long rainstorm, my friend came over and we decided to do some crazy teenage stuff in the rain. We had already played drag racing in the flowing gutter with our old grey plastic, battleships and destroyer models, so it was hop in to my 1940 sedan delivery and off to Wilmington we go…


Why Wilmington? Well, there was this semi-secret dirt field near a seldom used exit off of PCH close to our house. We usually had our bikes and made a semi racing track around the whole field. Behind us were those giant pipes and tanks of some oil company’s refining business. It was the never used entrance to the back of the oil business. Sometimes a trucker or two had their big rigs parked under the PCH bridge for a nap.

We were used to the field being dusty, but on this day, it was totally muddy and slick. So, we gently drove onto the flat portion of the field and started going in the same direction that we took our big Schwinn bikes. It was like driving on a slick Ascot race track in Gardena. As we drove around the outside huge oval path, the sedan delivery started to slide as we turned to keep up the curves. We learned a while back to correct the slide and easily got out of the slide as we powered up for the straight away. (powered up in a 80 hp Flathead… there is a pun in there, somewhere…)

Jnaki

We did this for a while and then who the #@!! Knows. But now, we were in the bumpy area of our jumps and "whoop-de-doos." The 40 Ford Sedan Delivery crept over the rolling hills, but then the second time around, decided to go for the jump at speed. What speed from an 80 hp Flathead, it was not super fast, but rolling at a good clip. Then up and over the jump with two teenagers laughing all the whole time.

Finally, the rain began to pour and we had a brown sedan delivery, not the normal salmon pink color. The rain tried to wash the mud off of the roof and sides, but it was caked on well. Then as we approached the end of the long straight away into the curve, it was just like the other multiple times. This time, the sedan delivery started to slide faster and now I was heading into the curb just below the wire fence separating the field from the rain culvert 8 feet below. (It was full of running water heading for the harbor)

If I had hit that curb, the 40 sedan delivery would have flipped over the wire cable and gone into the rain- swollen culvert. We both hung on and started yelling. The delivery was still sliding and despite my best efforts with the steering to counter the slide, we kept going. Finally, I decided to step on the gas pedal. Instantly, it grabbed and “powered” around the curve into the straight away.

Now, despite the rainy weather outside and two dry teenagers inside, we were soaked with sweat. Whew!!! Disaster averted and after swearing a few choice words and accepting congrats, we immediately drove to the Golden Star Hamburger Place (home of the original Char-Broiled Hamburger) for a calming Char-Broiled Cheeseburger with fries and a delicious large Coke. Yum!

What a couple of idiots… we laughed and then drove to the spray booth car wash to get a hundred years’ worth of mud off of the whole 1940 Ford Sedan Delivery. It cost us 4 x .25 cents for each timed spray encounter. Not bad for a $1.00 worth of fun. The Flathead had no damage, it ran like a top, no damages to the body/fenders, and we were a couple of dumb, but happy teenagers that just had the most fun in quite some time.

 

Good friend was injured in a terrible accident...
Lost the entire left side of his body...
The good news?
Now he is all right.

 

When I was about 20 (translate as, "STILL young and stupid), I had to panic-stop our '30 Packard 726 sedan... didn't have to change my shorts, but DID feel like I needed to restart my heart

 

My 'ol runnin buddy, Glen and I were having a few brewskis one Sunday afternoon and decided to drive up to Larch Mountain and check out the view point. The road up to the viewpoint was asphalt but it was super twisty. I was driving my trusty ol 64 'vette and it loved the sharp corners going up hill.
We had a few more brewskies at the top and maybe some other stuff too. Coming back down the road was fun 'till I misjudged a corner and slid off the right side of the road, sideways across the front yard of a little house. There was a woman in the house's kitchen doing dishes and looking out her window as I came flying past her window, throwing up chunks of her yard. The car came back up onto the road, then across and into the ditch on the left side of the road. I drove down the ditch until the car finally came up onto blacktop ....left rear tire had broken the bead and was now flat!
This teenage kid pulled in behind my car and asks if we need help. He gave me a ride down to the local gas station where I got the tire inflated. He was the son of the lady doing dishes.
I thought the excitement was a done but going through Gresham some brain donor in a 60s Chysler wagon in oncoming traffic decided to make a left turn right in front of me. Just clipped the wagon's back bumper and left no damage to my car..

 

I had one of my closest calls from the grim reaper in my buddies 57 Ford 2 door sedan back when we were kids and even dumber than I am now. We had just put a junk yard 390 and C6 in his shit box rusted out Ford and was out running the hell out of it. The road was a little wet and we were going way too fast coming up to double a curve with a rail road crossing between them. We slid off the road right at the tracks and the car ended up with the drivers door against a pole and the front of the car on the tracks. It had buckeled the rusty assed car and we couldn't get the passenger door open. No big deal until we saw the train coming way down the track! We finally got through the window when the train was getting way too close and dip shit got back in to save the car. He got it started and hit reverse and it was spinning in the gravel, it finally got enough traction and it went across the road into the ditch. The train missed us by a few feet but still scared the living shit out of us. I have had a bunch of shit in my throat moments since that night 50 some years ago but that one still makes me glad to be alive every time I think of it.

 

Turning on the starter while it was in gear, the battery was disconnected Thank GOD..

 

Coming home from a carshow in the Chevy one beautiful weekend afternoon. Show was south of Boston and I'm heading North nearing the split for rt3 to Cape Cod. I'm in the left lane to head through Boston. The minivan next to me is loaded with a family, the driver is honking his horn waving at me, giving me the thumbs up. Wife and kids all smiling and waving at me.
The traffic up ahead is stopped in their lane because EVERYONE is going to the Cape. I shake my hand and point forward but they don't care, they are all smiles until they drove into the stopped traffic. That was bad, probably ruined their vacation

 

This is my story , after the monoleaf front spring came out I bought one for my 37 Ford . I installed new spring before going to Vermont Nationals , car road great all the way up from Pennsylvania. Coming home with my friend following me in his 37 Chevy we were in bumper to bumper traffic on the New York freeway going 75 to 85 mph . Turned off at Kingston N.Y. to Rt. 209 . It was about one in the morning went through the toll booth and proceeded down exit . All of a sudden the steering wheel spun in my hands sparks were flying and I was up on two wheels , hit the brakes and I'm down in one piece . My friend comes running up to my car and said thought you were going to roll over , what happened ? Got out of car with a flash lite and looked under front end , my monoleaf spring broke on driver's side and was digging into road. Jacked car up and removed broken leaf and said I'll try to drive it and drove about 5 miles to a gas station to decide what to do . I told my friend to drive in front of me and let me know when road dipped or was uneven , we had CB radios . The car would steer to one side when road dipped because I had no panhard bar to keep axle from moving right or left . So we drove at 30 to 35 mph for the next 175 miles counter steering the whole way. Got home as the sun came up. We probably would have been killed if spring had broken on Freeway . After I sent back spring to were I bought it he flew in a new spring the next day and said it wasn't heat treated properly . I installed a panhard bar on axle and been running the monoleaf spring for 27 years , but it's always on my mind on long trips .

 

August 1968 and I just paid a guy $450 for my first car, a '29 A standard coupe without window glass, roof, lights or wiring for anything but the ignition system. Drove the nine miles home with my dad following in the family station wagon. Rush hour traffic, I'd never driven a car with mechanical brakes, much less poorly adjusted. Soon I lost the front brakes, then the left rear brake and had to panic stop in merging traffic, nearly running into the side of another car that had the right-of-way. Locked up the only remaining brake, right rear, with billowing smoke coming off the skidding tire. Too afraid from that point on to stay up with traffic, I slowed to about 20 mph the rest of the way with only one operational brake. Got it home without further incident and tried to park it on the sloping driveway, but battled it all the way into the backyard. Once I got out and checked the brake rods, I found the front rods had broken and the left rear rod's clevis pin had come out, as had the clevis pin on the emergency brake. Guess what received my attention first as I began to get the coupe roadworthy?

 

I hope you're never behind me while you're "driving"!

 

I have never, ever, understood why people leave their manual transmission cars in gear when they park it. Many decades ago I went to the local donut shop and even though the car was on flat ground, I had heard many say "put it in gear", so I did, this one time, with the emergency brake engaged.
Moments later I come out and start the car, and the damn thing almost leaped through the massive storefront window. I had forgotten the car was in gear. That was the very last time I ever parked and kept a car in gear.

 

I have a lot. Driving home from Ranger School in November of 83 in my 56 Chevy, I ate a bucket of chicken after going through Atlanta. Still going north I stopped at a Waffle House and ate a breakfast about 2 in the morning. There was a man there in a T shirt from Key West. I told him I was going to KY so he decided to ride with me. We were about 20 miles South of Nashville at 0530 when both he and I went to sleep. I woke up at 70 MPH in the median. Jerked it back on the road, did a 360, lost 30 MPH in the spin, and was going same direction when all slowed down. Didn't have any seat belts so I kicked the knob off the radio in the spin and my spittoon slung tobacco juice all over the inside of the car. Rider from Waffle House woke up in the middle of the spin screaming. Fun times.

 

Driving my 41 Ford P/U with a 406 Ford and C6, racing all over SF Valley in it went home and the pitman arm and drag link just fell off in the driveway. I had a friend shorten it cause it was an inch off the ground and his weld broke just after I stopped in the driveway. Very Close call. Same truck same friend installed the master cylinder using an adjustable trailer mirror bracket to brace it. I was driving in the right lane when a city buss turned in front of me, I hit the brakes hard, the mirror bracket broke apart and I turned right to avoid the buss and ran the wheel on the curb to stop. I decided to redo all the stuff he did for me and had me a great truck after that.

 

Coming back from Okie City after a run in the roadster. Two lane country road. Driving at night and in rain outside Paris Texas. The road was washed out but there was no indication it was. I ran off into the wash out and hit the end of the road on the other side. Hell of a hit. Car was not shaking and steered fine. I just kept going. I was probably doing 70.

 

Hello,

One night, after mounting the Bruce Slicks on my 58 Impala, (black rear and front rims) I picked up my friend for a night of just cruising around and having some fun. It was a typical Friday night in our neck of the woods in Long Beach, but decided to travel some distance to see how others are doing with their cars. I knew that the braking power on any surface street was not going to be the best with the slicks on the back. So, it was a simple drive to Newport Beach along the Coast Highway for a nice cruise south, along the water’s edge.
58 Impala with Bruce slicks at Lion's Dragstrip

As we rolled into the big drive-in restaurant at the corner of MacArthur and Coast Highway in Newport Beach was a great destination. The cruise was great going down the highway and the bright lights of that intersection drew us like bees to flowers. Immediately we found a nice spot in the front row of the cruising lane. But, the right behind us was the next row of customers on a slight downward hill. We could see all of the hot rods and cruisers coming through the lane in front of us. It was a prime location.

We had a great snack of the usual teenage cheeseburgers and fries. After some bantering with other teens and their cars, we had a short drive to a lonely road nearby. It was short, but in a fairly barren location. Don’t forget, nowadays, the place is called Newport center and there are no empty roads nearby. Back then, it was fairly empty. Just fine for an acceleration contest with a few of the locals.

Jnaki

We did well and started our long drive back home. As late as it gets along the coast, the usual late night mist and fog starts to roll across the highway. That made the approaches to the stop lights start early with pumping of the brake pedal. We got through the coastal fog ok and now we were back in Bixby Knolls, near my friend’s house. We were talking and having a great time, when all of a sudden, I saw something on the right side of a two way street coming at us, without any slowing down. So, I slammed on the brakes and swerved away from the impending doom.

Needless to say, the slicks grabbed or tried to grab, the front tires grabbed like they should and we went for a complete 360 degree circle in the middle of the intersection. The car from the right side had made a quick right turn and took off. We were spinning one and a half times until coming to a stop after I let off of the gas pedal. Whew, what a way to end the evening. The light mist played some part of the episode, but the slicks were the culprit. Luckily, it was very late at night/early morning, so there were no other cars in the vicinity. Lesson learned…

 

Could have been a close call, but it wasn't. I got lucky.

In 1973, 19 years old, heading to North Dakota in my 53 Ford pickup to see a young lady that I was quite fond of. I had enough money to buy the gas I would need plus just a few more bucks. Real skinny wallet in those days. Good running 276 DeSoto Hemi under the hood with the original 2-speed PowerFlite transmission behind it, all from a wrecked '54 Firedome Sedan I bought for $50. Front half of the driveshaft was the original DeSoto unit spliced to the rear half of the original Ford shaft. Rear wheels were centers from the Ford welded to who knows what wide rim so I could put some wide worn out tires on it. Painted black with machinery enamel. Replaced the Ford grille with a 55 Chevy grille, looked pretty decent. Dual exhaust made from electrical conduit and well pipe exiting straight out the back.

I'd been on the road about three hours, and had to slow down for a railroad crossing. Stepped on the pedal and it squished like a plum, accompanied by a cloud of smoke out the back. Some of the baling wire exhaust hangers had modified themselves and the exhaust had rubbed/burned through the rear brake hose. Single bore master cylinder so I had no brakes at all. You think the parking brake worked? Oh hell no. I crept along the highway for a couple miles and then off on a gravel road to the closest farm. I met a real gem of a farmer there. He helped me pinch shut and fold over the rear steel line enough to make a pretty leak-free seal, filled the reservoir with some hydraulic fluid from the machine shed, gave me some extra fluid in a can, and I was back on the road in less than an hour.

I made the rest of the trip OK, driving conservatively with my front-brake only rig. The young lady was nice enough to introduce me to her new boyfriend, so instead of staying there for the weekend like I had planned I headed back to South Dakota the next day. Mixed blessing I guess. I didn't get what I went for that weekend, but saw her a couple decades later at a mutual friends funeral, and I think she must have eaten non-stop during those decades. One of those "gut hanging between the knees" deals when she sat down.

 

Do you mean a close call at the railroad crossing or a close call with the young lady?

 

The correct answer is "c".

a. railroad crossing
b. young lady
c. all of the above

 

Hello,

Of all the dumb things that happen when you most likely think it wouldn’t… a stuck throttle. We had just installed a progressive linkage on my 1958 Impala’s 348 tri-carb motor. The one time the vacuum hose fell off, it was not nice running with only the center two-barrel carb. Especially, when I knew there were two other guys sitting on the outside ends of the manifold just waiting to boost the horsepower.

So, all through the night cruise, it was adjusting the linkage for smooth running. At first, it was set too loose, then too tight, so it took several runs at the Cherry Avenue darkened street to see which angle was the best. We had to have full throttle or at least close to in the center, before the two outside carbs came on like gang busters. That was for daily driving back and forth to high school and cruising around.

By the end of the night, after the usual high power runs and cruises to the local drive-in restaurant parking lots, we decided to call it a night. I would say that night of throttle adjustment was fun and now, it was an easy drive home after I dropped off my friend. For the whole night, we decided his 57 Chevy Bel Air Hardtop would take a nap, while my Impala was being tuned on the street cruising road trips.

Jnaki

We had just installed the straight through Corvette off road stock mufflers without the final tail pipes. So, it was as close to being at the drags with the sound and power on acceleration. So, my friend said, "... for one last time, blast away from my street corner so I can hear the exhaust." Boy, did I ever stomp on the throttle. Instantly the progressive linkage hooked up all three carburetors and the Impala leaped away with full traction. The C&O Stick Hydro doing its thing of instant power to the ground and no smoking tires.

As I roared away, I knew I had to stop within a full block to make a left turn on the main cross street, Long Beach Boulevard. It was late at night, so the traffic was thin. But, as I eased off the throttle, the Impala kept going forward. Oh…sh%%$## I still had time to pull on the lever up to unstick the pedal lever. No action as it kept going. Now, the brakes were jammed down as full as possible and I kept kicking down the pedal to see if it would not un-stick itself. (My friend said, later, he heard the motor, the exhaust and then some squealing. So, he ran over to the corner to see what was happening.)

By this time, I could see a few cars crossing on the main street in front of me. Then the squealing, skidding tires sound came on and as I skidded to a halt after turning off the ignition. Duh! I skidded into the first lane and whipped the car facing the correct way. In the next lane, was a 4 door sedan with the driver having this ghostly look on his face. I missed him by a car length, but skidded and finally stopped on the main street. (By this time, my friend had run down the street to see what was happening as I drove away going down the street flow of traffic.)

It could have been disastrous in many ways, but someone was looking out for me. From that point on, I had to stop at the nearest gas station and check everything out. The progressive throttle linkage had been adjusted to peak performance, but somehow, got stuck in the full on acceleration run. By kicking on the throttle and then shutting the motor off, it came unstuck and worked normally, all the way home.

Then next day, my friend called me and I explained what had happened. Then he told me he saw the Impala skid into the cross traffic facing the same way as the flowing lanes. He thought I was going to crash into someone. But, then the Impala just drove away at slow speeds.

Disaster averted in the pristine 1958 Impala. The next day, the progressive linkage came off and the vacuum tube was put back on with a clamp to make sure it worked well and would not drop off accidently upon acceleration.

 

My only car accident in my life.....was 18 or so, around 1970, had a 65 vauxhall viva, a car about the size of a thumbnail. My friend dave and I jumped in for a run up a mountain road that led to a mine, popped around a right turn to find a kenworth on my side of the road cutting the corner, snow on the road, gasped hard and we disapeared under the truck. Both doors popped open dave out the passenger door, me out the drivers, launched me over the snowbank, crawled up with a deep scratch on my arm, dave had a bloody nose and no glasses, and my car was a white object under a kenworth with no front axle under it anymore and three shocked faces. Had a seatbelt been on, I would not be here, cops came, fined me $440 for no insurance, public freightways sued me for damages, but my dad got me out of it, pointing out they were at fault, and made me understand how lucky the two of us were......after kicking both our asses up around our ears....

 

I should have a photo f this somewhere but can't find it. I traded a 355 SBC for a '40 Oldsmobile that was in Ohio (I live in MD). I think the trade went down through the HAMB here. Anyway I didn't have a truck at the time and my buddy had a '67 Dodge D100 shortbed (/6, 3 speed column, 3.55 rear, manual drums). We borrowed a tow dolly and drove to Ohio to make the trade. Turns out the '40 Olds outweighed the tow vehicle and there are a lot of hills (mountains) between MD and OH. We would have to get all the way down to 1st gear on the way up, and had to leave it in 2nd on the way back down because the brakes wouldn't do a damn thing. On one downhill cannonball the truck started fishtailing and there was nothing we could do but pray we got to the bottom before it jack-knifed on us. That whole trip had to be the dumbest thing I ever did in a classic car, but that fishtailing ride down the mountain was for sure the closest I ever came to dying in one.

 

Several years ago my 2 sons and I decided to go to The Berlin, Connecticut turnpike to do some cruising. I asked my sons if they had any tools, they said that we wouldn't need any. Going across the Glastonbury bridge, all of a sudden my rear brakes locked, and my roadster went sideways. The left rear cycle fender had broken loose, got under the tire, and got tangled up with the emergency brake cable, causing the roadster to go sideways. My son Mike called His best friend Matt to bring some tools to help us. Matt showed up with 2 pair of pliers. We struggled with the pliers, and got the fender untangled, and off, then proceeded to the Pike to go cruising.

 

Would a pre war aircraft tug close one count as vintage? Dad bought 1 for my brother and I to use to pull gang mowers. We had a couple of huge fields he wanted to turn into lawn, and hey sons need something to do in the summer, right? This thing weighed about 12,000 pounds,and was powered by a Dodge flathead six with a truck 4-speed and a huge rear axle with duallies. No springs, the axle was fastenedsolid to the 1 inch by 12 inch plate framerails. Also no front brakes. Stepped on the brakes one day out in the north 40 downhill slope in the am, on grass, wet with dew, driving in high gear way too fast for this thing and the conditions. Spun around going backwards down the hill, no control, aiming for the woods, wasn't supposed to be driving unles big brother or dad was supervising. Didn't hit anything, turn it over or damage anything except a pair of tighty whiteys. If anything had happened probably wouldn't havehad to worry about being in trouble, probably would have been just a smear under it...