So my dad has a 67 chevelle he had completely restored when I was a kid. When I was a teenager he let me and my brother drive it a lot this car is a blast to drive it has a built 454 and a 4 speed. I would start in second here and do block long burnouts. Anyways one summer day I decided to take it out and was out cruising around my small town. I drove past this girl that was in my class and 17 year old me figured I would give her a good ride. So pull out on the highway sideways and go through all the gears. So I did not ask my Dad for permission to drive his car and was not aware he was working on the carb. So when I start to slow down the car back fires and catches on fire. I pop the hood and use a bottle of water dump on it that does nothing so I take my shirt off to put the fire out. So I’m sitting on the side of the road broke down shirtless with this girl. Ya plan literally blew up in my face. I was able to restart the car and drive it home. When i saw my Dad I told him that I caught his car on fire. He asked me if it had burnt to the ground and I said no and he said that’s good. I couldn’t believe how cool he was about it. It ended melting the oil pressure line so it leaked oil on to the clutch. So replacing clutch, oil line, and repainting hood was all that needed to be done.
I had this same car, however with an automatic. A very sought after 2 speed PowerGlide. Coveted by the dragster crowd.
I was a pretty responsible kid. Had saved up my grass cutting etc $ and bought it at 15 years old. It was my first car. Prior to that I drive a 39 Chevy my dad and I rebuilt together.
But this car was mine alone. My dad hated it! It was stupidly fast for a kid. I LOVED it. This car is responsible for my first clandestine job. I had had it a year. Drove it everyday I was alive and had burned miles of rubber by then. My history teacher asked me to stay after class one day. I racked my brain wondering what I had done wrong in class.
He asked me if it was fast. I beamed at saying "Yes sir it sure is!".
Would you like to go to work for me?
Now I'm really perplexed.
Long story shortened. He turned out to be a pretty popular moonshiner. He had a route he needed deliveries done on. Pay was $400/weekend.
In that day, for my age, that was crazy good $$. You couldn't make that in a week working part time as a kid.
I not only took the job, I ended up having to get a part time job as well to "cover" how to explain to my dad, who was ex LEO, why I could plow $$ into my hot rod Chevelle. I was getting $400 a weekend in cash. Even my dad knew that didn't make sense.
I had $$ and a car at 16. So the girls loved me!
Good times!