Technical Legend or a Myth Or a Crack Pot. Tell a Story.

I heard about a local guy here named Dave. He was a dragracer. That`s all I heard about him. I knew where he worked knew who he was. I was getting my haircut a year ago. He was there too. He pulls a pic out of his wallet. and it is his car. A 66 Plymouth. He tells me the story since I`m a car guy about how he was at the Eddyville dragstrip in Iowa. He takes off and loses control and hits the wall. Hard. He never raced again. This was in the late 60`s. He says. A few months later, I asked a guy about him. He says he just bought the car and that was his first and only trip down a dragstrip. One and done. Never was into cars ever since that day.

 

He was lucky there was a wall, could have driven into the crowd. A lot of dragstrips in the 60's didn't have walls or guardrails.

 

Thought this was another Von Dutch thread...

 

I saw this on the internet . So it HAS to be true

fu$&ing Dodges !!!

 

It’s a goat (GTO)

 

Dodges? We don’t need no stinking Dodges. Lol

 

Guy I worked with decades ago had a friend with a new '65 Buick Skylark hot dog. Thing was so fast it was banned from all the local drag strips because nothing could come close to beating it.

 

Where I grew up, there was a legend that spanned three towns about this stranger that would show up periodically in a hopped up '55 Chevy with tinted glass and cruise up and down Main, looking for trouble. It didn't take long for him to make a name for himself, however.

Once his legend grew, guys would be on the lookout every night for him. They'd pull up along side and challenge him, and he'd leave them in the dust then high-tail it. No one knew his name, and you couldn't get a real good look at him behind the tinted windows. I mean, like something out of a spooky b-horror flick about a ghost racer or something.

He'd disappear for a while then pop up one night here or there, in one town or the other. It was always the same routine. As far as I was told, no one was ever able to touch him and he pissed off quite a few guys.

One night, a bunch of guys from a town over decided to ambush him. He led them on quite a chase. When they sped through my town the cops caught up to the fiasco and stopped everyone giving chase except two cars that were able to get away along with the '55 Chevy, all heading in different directions.

As with all things, time passed and the races and excitement stopped. But the legend lived on.

Fast forward some 35 years when one of my town's most beloved priests died, right there at his estate sale, in an old, leaning, double door garage, sat a dirty and dilapidated hopped up '55 Chevy with tinted glass.

 

The best stories are the ones on the edge of being real for the time frame of the "event". The line between Legend and Myth can be pretty thin. I've heard of more then a few real Legend stories that have grown more wild as time passes, kind of a shame really.

 

@choffman41 a guy I worked with in the eightys had a 396 Chevrolet Chevelle. That thing was so powerful it would jump a glass Coke bottle in a parking lot. Snatch the wheels right off the ground with a press of the gas pedal. It was so fast it was banned from driving on the street. We offered money to see these great feats but he didn't want to take our money or have his Chevelle seized by the cops.
Sounds like the same guy.

 

Not any one particular story, myth, etc.
It was our local hot shoe heros that got me through high school, the late 60's/early 70's so you know all the hardware that was roaming the streets, all it took was a walk through any of the local new car dealerships for the rich kids and on any Monday morning you would expect to see something new show up, then there were the tri-fives, 409's, GTO's, etc, anything with a V-8 didn't stay stock for very long, man what a time to be a hotrodder on the upswing.
Well, there was that one time I got the opportunity to drive a 70 LS-6/4 speed Chevelle.

 

Ive got a couple that my grandpa (CJ) would share with me when I was a kid about his teenage years.

First one was about his 61 Impala. He ordered it brand new in 61. 348/350hp 4 speed car with 3:73 gears and a posi. For a bit of time it was the fastest car in the little town and 2 other close towns he grew up in. One night a car club/race team rolled into town on the way home from running at Balboa dragstrip in an identical 61 Impala after winning their class that day and we looking to pick on the small town cars. So my grandfather said to put their money where the mouth was and off they went to where they had the 1/4 mile laid out. Now my grandfather claims that most of the town rolled out with them for that race as apparently the guys were being rude at the drive in and the hoped to see them lose. Even the local cops showed up to watch. The line up their 61's and at the arm drop were off. My grandpa claims he was already pulling away by 2nd gear and then proceeded to blow their doors off. They were pissed and wanted to run double or nothing and my grandfather ran them again and beat them again. The guys paid up then put their tail between their legs and drove out of town. Grandpa never saw any of that club roll through town again.

The other one was about one of his early hot rods. Bought a 30/31 model pickup that had a 283 mated to a 39 box. Rest of the truck was still pretty much stock. Still even had mechanical brakes. He slapped some headers and a 4 barrel intake/carb on it and he claims that when you would get in it the frame would twist bad enough the truck would jump lanes. Would also shift lanes when you got out of it. The truck was where he learned he hated 39 boxes and would never use one again after blowing them up so much.

 

So you ask for stories... Pick a word win a conversation, any word will do.
Legends require listening to others, not my strong suit.
Allow me speak of a corner I used to hang and work part time.
City Line, US rte1 and Haverford ( SW edge of Philly )
In the 50's there was a concrete divider at the Northbound left turn lane.
After a couple years of pulling Southbound cars off of it, they gave up. and removed it.
More than a decade later on 2 occasions, I had friends seriously hurt, NB, and their motorcycles wrecked by cars SB.
One Thanksgiving I heard the classic thunder looking that way I saw a NB car head-on into a SB car. At a later date my Ex tells me how her Dad ( a wonderful man ) stepped out his car, waiting on the turn lite, to ask the guy who caused this if he was all right. whereupon the idiot socked him in the jaw!
An occasion of a SB rear-ender I noted a lady passenger of the front car, Screaming yelling, and attempting to run at the offender while on crutches. I thought to myself: over-medicated.
The stretch of Rte 1 south of the corner leaves the city and passes by part of The Park system and a golf course and driving range, on one side. The other side, due to elevation, is steep foliage, and properties on top all face another road.
3/4 mile not much patrolled, though touched by 4 twnshps and nobody watching.
My buddy sucked a valve one nite trying to outrun a 390 with his 283.
A 'speed wizard' borrowed his pal's ride one night, ran down and back, but returned driving backwards. Like nothing happened. The Rear was fractured, He tossed his pal the keys to his own wheels and said "I'll see ya tomorrow".
Best for last.
In the wee hours, one night, a lady came NB, wide open, she swerved right, to avoid a car.
This put her a on path across our drive, which is up hill to the service bays.
she missed the station, jumped a retaining curb, tore thru a chain link.
Then cleared a driveway, that had been excavated, when they built, the office building next door. She came to rest halfway inside the 2nd floor.
Thanks for listening. btw today it's a Mickey D
Oh, should mention, my buddy found the cabriolet in my avatar there.
He walked it home alone 6 blocks. I think it's living in Jersey now, with a nail head.

 

Heres the myth of a missing pristine one owner 1938 Ford Club Coupe and the local scrappie who had a drinking problem. . 1964 i was 11 years old and we moved from the quiet seaside town of Tootgarook to Ringwood ( eastern suburb of Melbourne ) For pocket money i collected empty beer bottles in the neighbourhood with my billie-cart . The beer company collected them at home if you had more than 1000 bottles. My best customer was Robin Pratt the scrappie who allways drove around in his 7 cylinder 292V8 truck . His shed at the top of Maidstone street was allways full of bottles ( but not 1000 ) and in the shed was the Club Coupe. Every now and then good old Pratt senior would take the Club Coupe out for a spin after i had cleaned out the bottles. Robin must have been a heavy drinker . This went on until i was 18 years old and i got my driving liscense. By then senior had died and the Coupe stayed inside. Local hotrodders had heard of the car but not of it,s location. It was a myth. So it,s around 1971 that Robin decides to collect old paper which was good money as well. The shed was stacked to the roof with newspapers and in the back was the Coupe. Every now and and then i tried to buy the Coupe but it was always a big NO . So in 1978 i had moved to the Netherlands and on my visits back home i still tried to buy the Coupe. By 1985 i had given up and i disclosed it,s location to the local hotrod shop owner whos workshop was actually only a few streets away from the Coupe .
A few years later the Coupe showed up at a Shannons Vintage Car Auction .

 

Wait a minute...was this priest's name Harrison Ford?!?!

 

Got rained out 1 night at a test n tune at the track. As I'm leaving I see a guy clutching a duffle bag and needing a ride. "Hey bud, hop in." He got in still clutching his bag like a child with a doll. "Relax, going to Dearborn where I can I drop you off?" "Taylor is fine, thanks." "Bro you're really clinging onto that bag, relax and set it down." and he finally did set it on the floor. "Don't worry about my bag." "I'm not, relax. What's in there anyways?" "Don't worry about it, ok?" "I'm not, chill man." "IT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKIN BUSINESS WHAT'S IN MY BAG!" I stopped hard and fast, tires squealing and pulled over, "GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY TRUCK ASSHOLE! NOW!!" and he left running away in the rain. I think I scared him pretty good, he left the bag on the floor after all.

 

Ok, @theHIGHLANDER
Dying to know...
What was in the bag?

And is there any left?

 

Well, what was in it???

 

Nah, the Padre never flipped his '55... unlike ol' Han Falfa.

 

The OTHER Zapruder film?
Pound of weed?
Guns, drugs, money?
All his whity tighties stuck together?

Leave us hanging, why don't you?
We'll remember this, Highlander......

 

We (hot rod idiots) used to meet at a local drive in, sit around and wait for the newbie or at least a challenge race between us. One guy's dad bought a brand new 57 Olds tudor that was pretty strong. He had it one night, friend challenged him in a 57 chevy and we all went to a deserted place with a big triangle of grass and concrete curb in the middle. They got it on, Olds was leading a little then the 57 pulled ahead, the Olds didn't look and hit the point of the triangle head on-the front end split like a chicken wishbone--tires spread like a nasty woman in a house of nasty. They were rollin', the Olds skidded about 50 yds. down the middle of the grass, front end like a dozer. Pushed up about 2 ft. of dirt. Guy wasn't hurt, we at first were horrified then needed a doctor to stop us from laughing. Poor dude, but he told his dad something "was loose" in the front end and he got away with it.
Had it been me, i'd be writing this from prison.

 

Our friend Bob Trostle (Sprint car hall of famer) was driving his dually with the racecar in the trailer down a two lane road at night. He happened to notice that 5 or 6 of the cars coming in the opposite direction had the driver's headlight busted out. About that time WHAM! He hit something in the road and the entire rig careened into the deep ditch. He had hit a dead cow in the road. He said it felt like he jumped the truck off of a ramp.

All the other cows in the pasture came up to the fence and were mourning the dead cow so loud they could hardly talk. About this time they heard a car coming down the highway rowing the gears at high RPM. They all knew what was about to happen. He said it was a small car, maybe a Gremlin or something hit that cow so fast it launched it over the ditch into the pasture. The car paused for a moment, revved a couple times to clear it out, grabbed a gear and ripped out of the field through the fence, through the ditch and back on the road hauling ass....

That's how Bob told it to us....

 

None of your fuckin business!

 

The name and address of the second gunman on the grassy knoll.

 

There was a family man, a carpenter, who had a thing for mid 30s Dodge pickups. He liked Cadillacs too and thought to stuff a dual quad Eldorado engine in one of em, little ¼ ton 36. The stock gear had the Hydramatic in high by the other side of the intersection so he changed that too. In Melvindale, MI there were these 2 young bucks who had the fastest Chevy in the area, some of the local gear heads hung out at what they called "The Cab Stand" and harrassed him into a race. "C'mon old man, bring that turtle out for an ass whippin!" as the story was told. Upset that the truck didn't just walk away, he knew something was wrong. Brakes were adjusted too tight and boiled the fluid. "Bullshit, you lost." so he put it in gear and got out it wouldn't move. He cracked the cylinders right on the side of the road and readjusted the shoes. "Ok, let's go again." as the Chevy guys looked on rather sheepishly. The race was no contest, and they didn't come back to the cab stand. It was this guy, the late John "Jocko" McNeal, dear ol Dad.

 

Then there's the story about "Beppy". I think that's his name.
His story was "I'm here to pick up the garbage". or sumthin ..
It was a '32 Ford.
Anyone remember the details?
Edit ... I did a bit of a search. Beppie Pistone and it was a '32 on ebay.
He got it for $1,000.
Good story.
It's on the HAMB somewhere.

 

Wrong!, he’s a mechanic by the name Vandenplas.

 

The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Porky the Pirate.



https://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/threads/who-is-this-guy.90625/

 

@VANDENPLAS is eternal and is loosely mentioned in the bible... Genesis 3:24 to be exact.

"God drove Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden in a great Fury."

And just who do you think was driving that Plymouth? Yup... Vandenplas.

Also, God must be a baseball fan because... "In the big inning..."