My first car came off the used lot as the special of the week. My dad cut a great deal and everybody thought I was a rich kid because at 16 I had my own convertible. Red over white with a red and white interior. I didn’t know what a chick magnet was until I owned that car.
As with any new car at that age the first thing I did clean it from bumper to bumper. All was normal until I pulled up the rear seat. What I found spoke volumes about the previous owner. Three empty whisky bottles, two or three racing forms, several very old cigars and a couple packets of Sen-Sens. I felt my new girl’ had seen a lot of life.
I found I had a more special car than I had thought. It was powered by a 332 instead of a 352 and, as such, was the only one of its kind in my circle of friends. My access to my dad’s garage led me to use it as the base for my first custom. Off came the massive front bumper and on went the splash pan from a ‘59 Plymouth. It was almost a perfect fit. ‘60 Pontiac taillights and ‘59 DeSoto headlight buckets, combined with a fresh coat of Mandarin Red, and she was the most unique ‘58 Ford for miles around.
I hated to sell it but I had my eye on a new ‘63 1/2 Ming Green 390 with the first all-syncro 3-speed. I wanted the 427 4-speed but it was out of my affordability….a whole $1000 more. If only……