Fordnatics List Archive

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Mail From: (email redacted)

7/16/94 12:16:19 PM

Hello all -

I am new to this list, and am quite glad that I have found it, since finding
persons knowledgeable in ford products is kind of "difficult" where I come
from. Seems everyone knows how to build chevy's and mopars, but very few
have the ability and persistence necessary to properly build a ford...

The first ford I remember was my dad's 1955 (I think) ford galaxie. It was
that really killer looking black/blue and white two-tone hard top. It was the
family car. Then, in 1968, my mom inherited my grandfather's 1957 Mercury
(Monterey, I think). It was a killer car. It had the push-button
transmission, the roll and tuck upholstery, and a really nice sounding AM
radio. It was *really* nice.

Following the demise of these two cars, my family came into posession of a
1969 Mercury Monterey with a 390, and a 1962 Mercury Colony Park station
wagon, that my mom used to haul my brother and I back and forth to school. On
top of that, the old station wagon came into heavy service with the
boyscouts, and other projects that involved kids from my school.

That old station wagon, with its power windows, red vinyl upholstery, and
glass packed cherry bomb mufflers, earned my mom the name "Granny Flash,"
from the kids. When it finally croaked, my mom switched over to another
ford.

My first ford was a 1963 Ford Ranchero pickup. It was the late 1970's, and
being my first car/truck, I really enjoyed driving it. A little 6 cyl motor
that had seen it's better days, I must say; and a clutch that kept freaking
out (first, the linkage, then the disk, then...), and it was soon too sick to
fix...

That 1969 Mercury Monterey of my dads? Well, it almost self distructed in
1974. But my dad was able to have the engine rebuilt, and it carried on
until about 1979, or 1980. I borrowed my dads car to go over to rehearse
with my first rock band, and on the way back, I dropped the accelerator
pedal, trying to be a stud in a fast car.

Well, the next thing I knew, the motor made a loud banging sound, and the
engine just sort of died. I managed to make it throw a rod, and that rod
went right through the block. Oil everywhere. That engine was DOA...

I remember being scared to death. But, I walked into the house, acted very
pissed off, and told my dad that "that piece of shit car blew up and left me
stranded!!!" I was so convincing that my performance evoked an apology out
of my old man, and probably saved my life!

Naturally, I had to share this with my younger brother, who - quite naturally
- used it as fantastic blackmail evidence on me for *years!*

One day, when my dad finally found out, he got this big old smile on his
face, laughed at me, and told me words to the effect of, "hey, what am I?
Stupid? I knew it all along!"

My dad's next ford was a 1970 Galaxie. This was about 1980, and by then, my
Ranchero had croaked. I was driving a mopar, and when my psycho driving
(lemme see, 136mph down a road clearly marked for 50... "Jumping" the car
over ditches... Following the antics of Jim Rockford's driving by attempting
and perfecting the insitu 180° lane/direction change... etc...) finally
killed that car, I was left with a 1973 AMC gremlin that my mom bought for
$35.00.

My younger brother started out by buying a 1970 galaxy 500, which he soon had
turned into his first hotrod. I wasn't into that shit yet. My mom had come
into a 1970 Mercury Marquis which had been parked, virtually right off the
showroom floor. We were a ford family, with me being the only exception.

By 1982/1983, my brother had gone through two other Galaxie 500's, and
managed to have his girlfriend kill one off. His first one - the Red one,
the hot rod - yielded to a rather nasty guardrail/rollover soiree, and with
the exception of the engine and transmission, was destined for the junk
yards. The engine got transplanted into my moms Marquis after it's motor
siezed up again. Remarkably, I am now in the process of harvesting this
motor so I can transplant it again...