My second-favorite of all my cars, I reckon. It was in excellent original condition when I bought it, with only minor rust on the rocker panels and rear quarter-panels. It had 90k-something on the clock, as I recall. This picture is a little washed-out; the color was a slightly brighter yellow. It had a 383 cu. in. 4-barrel, Torqueflite automatic trans with center console, a 3.55 Sure-Grip rear axle,and "Rallye" steel rims.
It was a daily driver for several years, after which I repainted it the original shade of yellow, had the seats recovered, and installed new carpeting and convertible top. It turned out so nice that I began driving it in fine weather only. After I totaled the '73 Road Runner, I had this pristine 440 laying around gathering dust, so I dropped it in the '69, even though the original 383 still ran great (though it did have 130k+ on it). I still regret doing that; I should have kept it all original!
Favorite story; I'm torn here. I'm tempted to cite the time that Karen was driving us home at 3 am, after I'd had too much to drink at a party. Growing annoyed by my kvetching at her driving 35 in a 45 mph zone, she tromped it down.. and the car promptly lit the tires up and turned sideways! Now, though it did have the 440 in it at that time, it wouldn't usually do that, not from a 35 mph roll. The only explanation I can think of is that the road must have had a bit of dew on it. Needless to say, it scared the beejeezus out of me, and that was the last of my back-seat driving that night!
But my fondest memory of the car is from when it was still bone-stock, primered quarters, ratty top, ripped seats and all. That was the night I drove Karen to the hospital for the birth of our first child, Robert. Now, I wasn't exactly driving fast, but I wasn't wasting any time, either. Nervous father-to-be syndrome, you know. Anyway, she kept imploring me to slow down, telling me everything was cool, and that we had plenty of time. There was a particularly rough set of railroad tracks on the way, and those got me one of the most ear-burning cussings I've ever had. I didn't realize that she knew some of those words! ];-)
I sold the car to my best friend, Mike Greenawalt, when we moved to the mid-South in 1990, and he still owns it. The above picture was taken in July of '99, in fact. Alas, Mike's house was flooded a couple of years ago, and the poor old girl was completely under water. It came through the flood amazingly well, though the engine and trans were toast, of course. Who knows, perhaps I'll convince him to sell it back to me someday! It hurts to see it sitting in the weeds that way... :-/
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