Inspired by the Le Mans Corvette. We own our cars for a period of time. But what lives did they enjoy. How many babies did they bring home from the hospital? How many brides and grooms did they send off in their journey? Did they compete in a race or how many times did they go down the dragstrip? Ect... ect... Now my car is off topic, but I have never seen another one like it. Black, on black on black in my personal life. It is a highly optioned car with a big block and hideaway headlights. And I have owned it for 34 years. I have only seen pictures of cars close to it in magazines in people`s personal collections stored away and not driven. The odometer on my car now reads close to 160,000 miles and has been customized a bit. But it could be changed back. It rolled off the line in California and was slammed to the ground before it was 10 years old. Then raised back up to muscle car height and then lowered back down. Maybe in the future it might be worth something of value more than what it`s worth now. But it is still telling stories going down the road and enjoying life like a bird in the wind. The stories it could tell, the smiles it has brought to people`s faces and places it has been. But the journey is far from over. What can your car say. Get me out of this damm garage and let me breath. Or is it free to roam to tell more stories.
That is what makes me envious of the people who keep their cars for 20, 30, 40+ years, they know their cars history, they were creating it.
Mine had a previous life worth 80,964 miles. Who knows where it has been or who drove it? I know it originated in San Jose CA, went to Denver CO at some point and probably sat for 20 years, going by the date on the dry-rotted radials. I did find an old cheap pen in the glove box from a CA lumber company. I restored that... put new guts into it.
My 47 Ford really doesn't have any history other than some custom touches left being from an owner long long ago. The dash and brake lights and parking lamps were all filled in with lead. It had bits of a black and white interior and metallic red door jambs. Back in the mid-90s my dad bought a 1940 Ford from an old lady in town who had it in her chicken coupe for 30-40 years. He gave it a tune-up and drove it home. I think he drove it for about two or three years before he tore it apart to make a street rod.
I’m lucky in that I know the history of my Fargo from new. It was a farm truck in Saskatchewan and when the son turned 16 he drove it eventually parking it. He moved to B.C. Put four brand new tires on it and a homemade tow bar for the trip. It sat beside the barn there for a few decades until he decided to move back to Saskatchewan and advertised it on the radio. 13 year old me went and looked at it with my dad and fell in love. That was 1991. Truck has 54,000 miles on it. My convertible I bought in Edmonton it was the fellows dads car. His dad acquired it early ‘80’s I believe drove it until he passed away and it was parked in a shed and “forgotten” about for 25-30 years until I bought it. I always wonder when I come across an old car sitting somewhere what it’s journey was, who had it, what it had seen etc. Old cars “speak” to me.
My 56 has a history I do sort of know as well. It was originally bought by a couple in Colorado as the wife’s main transportation. However, seems the husband also drove it some since he installed the spotlight to help him see addresses in the early mornings when he threw newspapers. Pretty sure that couple didn’t have any kids, so the car likely didn’t take any kids home from the hospital (or see the normal wear and tear that kids might add). Since they had no kids, the original owner sold the car to his brother in the late 80’s when he had quit driving it for the most part. That is when it went to Oklahoma. By then, it was “old” but only had right at 80k miles or so and wasn’t driven much for several years. The second owner (original owners brother) passed away about 10 years later so the car ended up in his estate. One of his sons took the car and moved it up to St. Louis. About 10 years after that and almost no more miles put on it other than an occasional parade or something, they again decided to move the car on. That is when my part of the story starts. When I got her, she had 83k on the clock and I have now had it for 11 years and put more than another 20k miles on it. Lots of road trips with my kids, etc. If it could talk now, pretty sure it would tell me it’s time to teak a break and go through some things. Although, I think she “Ruth” (which also happens to be the original owners name) also likes to stretch her legs on the two lanes any chance she gets. Pretty sure she also likes to haul lots of folks around (especially kids) to help them slow down some and enjoy the scenery along the way, not just the virtual world so many live in these days.
Billy Smith finally got his license. He promised his dad that he'd take it easy on the old Chevy. But I saw that boy grow up and carried him and his family from place to place for many miles over the years. I knew better. He was going to abuse the hell out of me. And sure enough, the minute he was out of sight, he was revvin my poor old 216 and popping the clutch and squawking my tires. Jeez, kid... have mercy on a poor old girl. I thought I was gonna die. Worse than that, I thought Billy might, too. Driving too fast, taking too many chances. It was all I could do to intervene just enough to keep Mr and Mrs Smith's boy alive.
I always think about this question when ever we drag something new home and then doing some investigating and see what I can find. When Ron handed us the box of old pictures of Taboo, I was just floored as it pretty much laid out the cars life from practically day one. Then on the flip side, the 55 Chevy my grandparents have had for close to 50 years hid quite a few secrets that they didnt know about when we finally restored the car a couple years ago.
The 40 Ford coupe I bought out of storage in Washinton State displays a plethora of builders it appears. The body and paint work were done by a real craftsman. Some brazing was used on patch panels and some body filler was applied over it. The body had no visible waves and the filler was in very good condition. The dark blue paint was flawless other than cracking from age. Lacquer paint I assume? The interior was done in black Naugahyde I believe. The head liner utilized the original top bow system and was beautiful, no wrinkles or sags or pulled areas. Although it was somewhat dry rotted from age. The rest of the interior as well. Now the drive train is a different affair altogether. It featured a 1957 371 Olds J-2 set up with a Olds 3 speed trans and rear assembly as well. I thought the engine choice was cool and typical of the era this car was built during. The person or persons that did the installation definitely lacked the same skills as the body and interior craftsman. To make room for the steering box to clear the Olds motor someone torch cut the chassis and moved the box an 1/12 to the left and let the column just follow along the result was a steering wheel that was not square with the dash. Where the exhaust interfered with the chassis the torch was used again to gain clearance. Other such chassis butchery was displayed throughout the structure of the chassis. I have repaired these issues but wonder about the origins of coupe. It did drive well and was pretty quick right un till I blew up the Olds motor. I guess that will be another chapter in the cars history when it passes from me to the next " caretaker." I am keeping a school type binder with all pertinent information updated as it occurs. I will keep this information with the coupe in case anyone may at some point be interested.
If cars could talk, my hobby cars would tell you stories how hard I worked on them, improved them, them proudly receiving trophies with their pictures taken. Sometimes I made them work hard going fast and what a potty mouth I have when normal car fix shit happens. My first/early cars would tell of the regular passion pit date nights, xxx rated, being scared street racing, many boken vitals replaced, driven by a dumb ass kid, then proudly bringing home my children from the hospital. A little later my open wheel racers would say, hope this kid gets better as we're tired of being hurt/repaired, then at one point they were proud to get their pictures taken in victory lane. All my cars would say they were well taken care of and got to get out and run free, not just a garage decoration, the dailey drivers would tell of good long lives with proper maintenance/care. The car Hobby has been good to me, I like to think I am good to it.
My 1940 Ford Sedan Delivery Would Say: "Thanks For Leaving Me In Santa Barbara For 20 Years And Then Bringing Me Back To Frosty Idaho"
My 64 Caddy Coupe deVille would probably say thanks for not beating on me. Amazing, I have had my Cadillac for 10 years this year. I got it with 38702 miles showing……it is now 44,467 miles. It seems Aunt Lo and uncle John drove the car , on average, 862 miles a year. I’m in at 576 miles a year. To my knowledge, it has been in the rain on purpose twice. The thread below shows the whole story https://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/threads/basement-find.731063/
I think there is a difference between the car's history and the history of the owner, though they can certainly intersect where the car plays an integral role in something the owner was doing (ie racing the car, customizing the car, restoring the car, etc.). Outside of things done specifically to the car, the car is more of a witness to the history of the people who owned and used it. Picking kids up from the hospital, riding to a wedding in, are mainly related to people and seem tangentially related to the car. For myself, even though I have owned my 57 Ford almost 20 years, I'd opine that an O/T daily driver I bought years ago actually played an active role in my life. I bought it cheap with 49K miles on it while I was studying for the bar, and couldn't keep going to job interviews in the middle of summer, sweating to death in a suit and tie in a hoopty with no air conditioning. At this point in my life I was just graduating school, buried under a mountain of student loan debt, I had no place of my own, no job, and just trying to find my way forward. That car paid me back by being bullet-proof reliable with little to no cost of ownership. Just gas and oil changes every 4000 miles. What that did was allow me to not incur any additional vehicle expenses for years, and concentrate my finances on matters of more pressing concern like buying a home and paying off my student loans. In fact, I kept the car as a spare and continue to drive it often, including to work today. I'd say that car is pretty engrained in my history.
The gentleman I purchased my 36 ford pickup from told me he had just graduated from High School in 1965 and was working in an oil field related construction shop with his buddy. The buddy had a mild custom 59 Impala for sale parked out by the highway. A couple of guys rolled up in this 36 pickup to look at the Impala. They had come from California and wanted something newer. The 36 had a 331 Cadillac with factory dual quads. A deal was made and 36 stayed in Montana as the Impala went away. The Caddy mill was pulled and the pickup bounced from owner to owner but was never completed until I got it in the early 2000's. During teardown I found an old employee ID badge from the Consolidated Steel Wilmington shipyard under the dashboard confirming that it was in California during WWII. After my rebuild I was the first to drive it since 1965! I would love to know the first 30 years of its' life.
The history of an automobile is the heart and soul of it I believe. It brings that vehicle to life. I mean kinda gives it a living presence. Maybe I'm just weird. It starts out as molten metal, rubber and other elements but it takes on a personality of sorts to me. Lippy
My '34 had history back to the 60's when I got it in about '75. I kept it for about 35 years. The guy that bought it didn't care about history. Wish I knew where it was today.
My '40 Ford standard tudor was my 15th birthday present in 1982. It was 42 years old then, and hadn't been modified in any way except for an additional taillight on the right, and a cheapo repaint in black. I immediately started taking it apart and hot rodding it. Most all the modifications and bodywork were done over 30 years ago. A rebuilt flatty has been sitting on a stand since then. But in the 40 years I've owned it I've never driven it. I'm sure it's sad about that. My slightly OT Chevy, made the same year I was for you math wizzes, was obtained when I was 16. It was also immediately hot rodded. We lowered it with cut springs, but it still has a slight hot rod rake. Bigger rubber in the back, on rally wheels. We dechromed about half the trim, and louvered the hood. Eventually it got a hopped 350 to replace the 283. As teenagers we drove it all over, and some of that was rather fast. A few years after I got married it went into cold storage for 30 years, but I did get it out and move it to my own garage a couple years ago. Not sure when I'll get around to working on it again. I'm sure it looks forward to the day it can drive again.
All my hobby cars histories would have been abridged versions. If they could talk they'd have said "What the fuck" and then "Goodbye"...
A bit OT, but I bought my tractor from a friend of the family who bought it new. He was an accomplished machinist and engineer and built a lot of cool projects in his retirement years. He had a fantastic shop, and designed some upgrades for the tractor over the years, a tradition of sorts that I carry on. It wasn't until after he passed away that I learned that he worked on The Manhattan Project during WWII. I wish I could have talked with him about that!
Great topic, great posts. I often wonder what things our cars have seen, good and bad. What experiences they have lived through. I knew a fellow who got his friends together to what the demise of a worn out 283 Chev. He had replace it with a newer version. They put it on an engine stand, drained the oil, fired it up, revved the piss out of the poor bugger, and took bets on how long it would last. I haven't spoken to him since I heard about this. A mutual friend told me about it, laughing. I asked him where all the mill had been in it's long life. I dunno, he replied, what difference does it make. Sad. On a lighter note. A friend who has since passed, saw a old '42 Chevy pickup in Oregon, being used by a plumbing company. He hounded the owner to sell it, but it was still being used as a work truck. Many years passed, and finally the old guy relented and my friend Ray bought the truck. He drove it as is for a while, then an opportunity presented itself that was too good to pass up. Ray did some specialty mold work for a hood scoop that was commissioned by Nickey Enterprises. As partial payment, he received a new W30 engine and auto tranny. Ray transplanted this combo into that old truck in only the way the perfectionist in him knew how....perfectly..... He used to drive that old bugger into Santa Barbara on weekends to street race. Now Ray was no spring chicken, and he could really dress down when he put his mind to it. I hesitate to guess how much money he made. Remember, it was still faded original paint, with the plumbing company lettering in place. One day Ray had a phone call. It was Ali, calling for Steve. Appears Steve had a similar truck when he was in high school. By now, Ray had painted the truck. It took years, but Ali and Steve prevailed. Several years later, Ray and wife Nat were driving along the Coast Hwy when Nat shouts "STOP THE CAR, RAY"... Holy crap, what's going on. Poor Ray thought he ran over someone. There's the truck, and look at it, it's a mess, all muddy, and with a motorcycle in the back. Long story short, Nat broke up a meeting between Steve and friends proclaiming, "next time I see that truck in that condition, the deals off....I still have keys!!" Then the next lifetime began. Steve died and the truck went to Disney. You might guess the rest. That plumbers truck became the star of the movie "The Karate Kid"......It has since been sold, and I don't know what life it may be leading now. I hope that I don't get in trouble with the boys, but sometimes stories xxxxxxx make that "memories" need to be shared to keep them alive.
My cars tell me stories alright but the problem is.... they're all lies! "Take me to the drags, I'll behave and won't break an axle", or "If we go to the beach this weekend I won't come home on the hook this time", or my favorite "If you buy me something shiny I'll make it worth your while later". They tell only two kinds of stories, lies, and damn lies! If it's got four wheels or tits don't trust what you hear and hang on to your wallet! Hallelujah! Where's the Tylenol?
My family often visited some lifelong friends about 4 miles from our farm. I was about 13 when I noticed and fell in love with a 51 Pontiac that was sitting out back at their place. The 2 door fastback, awesome chrome/stainless and the visor just drug me in. I would go out there every time we visited, sit in it and daydream. My dad noticed it and one day asked if I wanted it…of course I did! He had already made arrangements to trade an old John Deere stationary engine for it! We towed it home a couple months later (we moved into town) and I started on it. It had a broken crank in the flathead 6 and my dad came across a 1959 Pontiac Station Wagon with a burned out interior but newly rebuilt 235 and rebuilt cast iron Powerglide. Long story short, I took it into the school shop and with the help of a great shop teacher replaced the flathead with the 235 but kept the 3 speed. Did a quick 12v conversion, got the brakes working and drove it home. I made a deal with a local body shop to do the paint and body in trade for a Yamaha enduro bike I had. When I got it back I quickly decided the 3 speed with bad synchros had to go so in went the powerglide and a 56Chev rear end. Sewed up a quick interior, threw on chrome reverse and baby moons and drove for about 12 years until the fibre timing gear shed its teeth. Time for a rebuilt 350 and I did my first tranny rebuild on a turbo 350. A couple of cut coils and 2” blocks changed its altitude. I redid the interior and ripped all of the old wiring out, replaced with the complete harness from a mid 70’s Chev truck. Drove it like this from 1991 to present with a few years of neglect from about 2010 to 2019. I finally retired in 2019 and started giving it attention again. It is now working well and I am working on it almost daily puttering around to get it back to being reliable and enjoyable. It has the same paint since 1975 and the same appearance/theme. I still feel the same way about the car as I did when I was 13. The lady in the picture below was the original owner and she really enjoyed getting a ride in the car that day.
Bit OT but I was at a impound auction and ended up 'winning' a really nice Jag. I'd bid way over book (had a guaranteed buyer) and paid in cash. Spent the next 6hrs in the company of a couple of really aggressive and thoroughly assholish DEA agents. They'd been watching the car, and since I'd beat out the DEA 'bidder', they felt I must have had a 'special' interest in the car. Wish that car would have said something...
Every car has a story and and I am lucky enough to have a few that have a crazy history. Years ago I had been looking for a Deuce Cabriolet for several years with no luck, at least in an affordable way. In July of 2005 I had asked my friend Mike, who owns Pikes Peak Motors (formerly So-Cal Colorado) if he knew of any Deuce Cabriolets for sale and he called me back later saying he knew of one with a pretty interesting story, but he didn't know if it was for sale. I sat on the information for a while because I had bought a used So-Cal Deuce highboy frame for my Brookville roadster project from Mike that I had just received on July 6th, which was my 32nd wedding anniversary (what else would you buy on your 32nd anniversary?). I didn't think my wife would want another "present" like that this soon so I waited as long as as I could - a whole week! I called Ted, the owner and he asked how I knew it was for sale because he had just decided to sell it the that day. I said I didn't but that I hoped he would sell it to me. He said it was funny that I called just then because he was laying awake last night wondering how he would ever finish all of his projects. He decided he couldn't, so he decided to sell his cabriolet project last night. He described the body and it's condition, named his price and I bought it sight unseen. The car has an incredible story that started in 1948 on a farm in what is now Cherry Hills (now full of million dollar homes like John Elway's), which is a suburb of Denver, Colorado. The previous owner had bought the old hot rod after returning from serving in the Army in Korea. He had raced (and crashed) it in jalopy races locally for a few years with a hot flathead for power. After several years he decided needed more power, so he pulled the flathead out and planned to put in the, then new, small block Chevy motor. The motor swap got stalled and it was parked beside a grain bin on his farm and it didn't move again for almost 50 years. A few years later some kids were riding their dirt bikes by and saw the car, and told their hot rodder father Don about it. He and his friend Ted went to look at the car and tried to buy it. The owner said no and they told him that he should cut down a small 3' tall sapling that was growing up though the center of the car before it became a bigger problem. He again said no, because he said "it would keep the car from getting stolen." They approached the owner several times a year for the next thirty five years trying to buy it. Every time they did it was interesting and even scary, because sometimes the owner was very cordial and other times his wife would tell them "to get the hell out of there fast!!" because he was coming out with his shotgun to run them off (they could see him loading the gun through the window). It seems the poor man suffered from mental illness (Deuce disease??) and eventually was hospitalized or committed. One day soon after that Ted stopped by and the mans wife agreed to sell the car with the condition that it had to be removed by the next day. That little sapling had done it's job, the car was never stolen, but now it was a huge tree that almost filled up the entire car. After Ted called a local tree service, they said they could cut it down, but could not could promise what would happen to the car after that. So as a last resort, in desperation Ted drug the grain bin over enough with a chain so a torch and a hacksaw were used to cut the car in half through the subrails and rocker panels. It was then hauled back to Ted's place until I stumbled onto the deal. I will be forever grateful to Ted and Don for selling it to me. Even though I've owned it for almost 17 years, one of my goals is to get it on the road again and failing that, preserve the car and it's story for the next hot rodder when I let it go. The day Ken rescued the Cabriolet from the tree. The day I bought the Cabriolet in several pieces. As it sits today waiting it's turn in my long list of Deuce projects. This is what I would like to recreate with it, the Paul Ellis Cabriolet.
I came across my Belair in Oxford NC while returning home with my parents from visiting my grandmother. I'll never know why my Dad was willing to return the next weekend and tow it back some 170 miles, after all in 1975 there were plenty of tri-fives around for sale. I have held on to it ever since through several girlfriends, two wives, three children, and two restorations. It has been loved and hated, driven and neglected, but I never wanted to part with it. What I would like to know is how it made it to North Carolina from where it was built, California.
I know many of the stories my ‘57 Chevy PU has, my dad bought it new. I’ve heard the story when the brought me home from the hospital in ‘61. My fashioned up a wood box upside down on the passenger side floor board and away we went. Oh the horror a 3 day old baby wrapped up laying on a box surrounded by metal. I’m sure I was in some sort of “holder”. Can’t remember. I can recall so many stories my dad told me about, hunting trips, etc, that hat were not about the truck but it was there. I remember when I was 4 or 5 years old my mom scooping me up and taking me into town, there was my dad talking to the police, and the ‘57 firmly implanted in to to side of the local ambulance, right in front of the original A&W (long gone as is the 2nd one) Ambulance pulled in front of him taking someone to the old hospital- no lights,ect on. Only ambulance in town I was told years later, as they had to round up something to haul the patient to the hospital with. I guess my dad raised hell, this was before “ambulance chaser” lawyers were the thing, and the hospital told him “what ever it takes, we’ll fix it”. A few months later it came out of Setliff’s body shop all shiny in root beer brown and a fresh 283 in place of the 235 inside was all repainted in black as well. There’s a lot more to that truck and what it is now, but even at 60 years old and as it sits needing attention I smile like a 16 yo when my dad gave me the keys, whenever I walk by it.
It's funny always think about where my car came from? Who bought it new what dealer ship did it come from? etc... I posted this on my build thread May of last year- When I cut the cowl lose a bow from a children's pair of glasses fell out. I always wonder when I find things like this in an old car- How long has it been in the car? The car is a is 90 years old so if the glasses broke when the car was new that child would be almost 100 years old now! What happened to the person? How much trouble were they in for breaking their glasses?
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