Another file photo, but this car looks exactly like my 'stang, except for the rims.
This is the first actual "real" car I owned; the first I ever took a loan out on. It was my second choice. The first was a screaming-orange '69 Camaro with an LT-1 350 motor and wicked black side-pipes the size of sewer mains. I needed a co-signer, natch, and my Dad took one look at the thing and said "Boy, there ain't no way!"
To make the pill go down easier, he suggested that we stop and look at the little Mustang he'd noticed at another dealership on the way. Donut's 200 cu. in. straight-six mill and automatic trans fitted right in with my actual vs. perceived needs, and after looking it over dad signed on the dotted line. Looking back, it was probably the biggest favor my old man ever did me. I likely would not have survived that Camaro!
And the car was a chick-magnet, which the Camaro probably would not have been, at least not after I'd scared the heck out of them on the first ride!
So, how did it get the nickname? Really, that should be obvious! In a snowy parking lot, the little 'stang would whip a 360 at the drop of a hat. ;-)
Favorite Old Donut story; the time a friend bragged about how he could motor over a back-country bridge with a steep onramp at 45 mph and get all 4 tires off the ground, and I endeavored to go him one better. I figure I took it at 60, and we were in the air for what felt like forever. The Duke Boys had nothing on me! ;-) Amazingly enough, the little car took it in stride, and didn't seem to mind at all.
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