1972 Plymouth Charger

This week's blog is about a 1972 Plymouth Charger, 340, six pack.  It comes from my good friend Bob, who told me his tale from his high school days in the late 70's.  His friend, Paul, who owned the 1972 Charger, pulled up to Bob's house in Royal Oak and picked him and his friend, John up to go out and cruise Woodward.  It was a Friday night, they had been taking mid-terms all week and were more than ready to blow off some steam.

According to Bob, Paul was driving like a lunatic up and down Woodward (between 12 and 15 Mile Road).  Several times during their cruise, Paul's speedometer blew well past 80 miles per hour.  John and Bob were becoming more and more uncomfortable with Paul's insane driving skills and were yelling at him to "cut it the hell out!"

Paul suddenly veered down a side street, just off of 14 Mile Road.  When he got to a subdivision that looked dark enough, he drove up on some unsuspecting person's lawn, threw it in park,  jumped out and found a bush to pee on, on the side of some unsuspecting homeowners house.

Bob and John decided it was time to teach "lead foot" Paul a lesson.  Bob slid over the console in the front seat, John jumped into the passengers seat.  Bob threw the Charger into drive, slammed the gas pedal to the floor and off they went, across the lawn and back onto the side street.  John was helping drive by working the stick shift, since Bob was busy holding a beer in his right hand to shift!

They took Paul's car back out on Woodward and for 20 minutes, cruised up and down, laughing about what they had just done!  They started to feel bad about leaving Paul and eventually headed back to the neighborhood where they had left him. He was still standing under the stranger's window!  The odd part was, he was talking to the owner (a lady) of the house that was leaning out the window above Paul's head.  Bob and John quickly realized, the woman wasn't angry at Paul, she was flirting with him!

Paul said goodnight, zipped up his pants and nonchalantely walked back to the Charger.  He didn't even care that Bob and John had stolen his car, even though it was only for a brief joy ride.  He hopped back in the driver's seat with a shit eating grin on his face, cranked up his 8-track player, slammed the Charger  into drive and rocketed down the street, shattering the stillness of the sleepy neighborhood.

'71' Orange Barracuda Fish Story!

'71' Plymouth Barracuda

This week's blog comes from a good friend of mine, named Bill.  Bill's turning 60 this spring and has owned classic cars since he was 18!

Bill spent most of  his teen years in Royal Oak, Michigan and told me about one of his first (of many) classic cars, a burnt orange 1971 Plymouth Barracuda!  Actually, at the time he purchased it, it wasn't a classic yet!  He bought it used in 1976 from a nearby neighbor.

The coolest details new to the '71' model was the six segment grille with louvers on the front fenders. The grille color was also new, a pearlescent silver.  Many collectors of the older Barracudas (the first being built in 1964), didn't like the new grille color, but Bill did.

The not so cool detail about Bill's car was that it was only a 6 cylinder and that the interior seats were covered in black molded plastic with wood trim!  "Burned your butt in the summertime!", Bill laughed.

In 1970/71, a six-cylinder base model with radio, power steering, and automatic would cost you around $3,100. Bill bought his used Cuda for $1,500.

One of Bill's favorite stories about cruising around town in his orange Cuda took place one Saturday night when he was driving through Royal Oak with his younger brother, Bob.  On their way to grab dinner at  Pasquales (a great Italian restaurant on Woodward, north of 13 mile), some strange car started following them.  Being that Bill and Bob were a bit stoned at the time, they became paranoid that something bad was going to happen to them and started to speed up.  The car sped up too and stayed with them for several miles.  Finally, Bill pulled over and ran up to the driver's window, pounding his fist on the window.  The mystery driver rolled down his window.  Bill confronted the driver, "What the hell's your problem?  Leave us alone!"  Turns out, the driver wasn't a creeper at all, he wanted to buy Bill's Cuda from him on the spot, until he found out it was only a 6 cylinder and quickly rescinded his offer and pulled away!

Bill kept his car for two years.  He sold it right before he joined the Army,where he was eventually stationed in Germany for a three year tour.

Today, he still enjoys seeing the old classic cars go by.  He never misses attending the Detroit Auto Show or the Dream Cruise.  When I asked him if he'd be purchasing any more classic cars, he smiled and said, "Maybe I'll pick one up for my birthday present this year, hmmmm."

Happy 60th, my friend.

Brie's '57' Chevy

Brie bought her '57'  6 cylinder Chevy for $1,500 in the 1970's from a hippy type guy who had decked out the inside with fuzzy dice, dark blue shag carpeting and sky blue floor pads that matched the paint job on the outside of the car.

As a child, Brie used to cut out pictures of cars from all the sales flyers that would arrive in the Sunday papers and tape them to her bedroom wall.  She dreamed of someday being the owner of a classic car.

As a teenager she would go "junking" with her brother at the local junkyards to check out the classic cars that had been dumped there.

"Those cars were classy" she said.  She loved their smooth, sleek lines and the tailfins.  The backseats were like sitting on a comfy couch.

The heater in the 57 Chevy didn't work, but it ran really good and purred like a kitten when she started it up.

She kept her Chevy in the garage through the harsh Michigan winters, but enjoyed dusting it off and cruising in it on warm summer weekends.

Phoebe's 16th year!

1966 Ford Mustang

This week's blog is about a very lucky girl, whose mom hated to drive!

Phoebe was 16 when her older brother, Jim, restored a dark green 1966 Mustang.  He gave the Mustang to their mom as a gift.  Phoebe's mom was born and raised in Ireland, she didn't learn how to drive until she was well into her 30's and really didn't like driving anyway.  This was great news for her daughter, Phoebe.  It didn't get much better than to cruise around Royal Oak behind the wheel of a classic Mustang!

One Friday night, after the Kimball High School football game, Phoebe found herself cruising down 13 Mile, heading towards Woodward.  While she was stopped at a light, a souped up Camaro pulled up along side her.  One glance over at the driver and she knew a race was about to ensue!  Green light!  Tires squealing, smoke coming out from behind, both cars lurch forward!  The race is even for a block or so, suddenly, Phoebe sees the Camaro decelerate and turn into a side street.  "Hah, I won!" she thought to herself.

Red flashing lights illuminated the Mustang's white interior.  A short "blip,blip" siren began to sound behind  her.  "Great, my mom's gonna kill me"she thought as she pulled over to the side of the road.

"License and registration" the police officer barked.  While Phoebe fumbled through her wallet, she was suddenly frozen, her cheeks began to radiate heat, "Oh no, I forgot to change my license back" she thought.

She had been in Florida for spring break the week before and had slipped one of her friends at school some money to "fix" her license so it appeared as if she was old enough to get into the bars in Daytona Beach.

With her back still facing the policeman, she had quickly licked a finger and began frantically rubbing her driver's license.  Nothing worked, no matter how hard she rubbed.

Tiny sweat beads formed on her upper lip.  Phoebe reluctantly handed over her paperwork to the officer.  When she looked up at him, she realized Officer Pinto was one of her best friend's fathers!  He knew her very well and he knew she was NOT 18 years old (the legal drinking age in 1982).  She knew she was in HUGE trouble.

Officer Pinto stepped back to his squad car for what seemed like forever.  She saw him approaching in her rear view mirror.  He handed her two tickets; one for going 15 mph over the speed limit and one for a false ID.

In the weeks that followed, she somehow managed to keep all of what took place from her parents.  She had to go in front of a judge who suspended her drivers license for a year and fined her $500 (which she had to beg her brother to loan her).

Her mom's  '66' Mustang didn't get much time on the road that year, but once Phoebe got back behind the wheel, she made up for lost time by cruising up and down Woodward Avenue. She spent most Friday and Saturday nights hanging out with her friends in the parking lot at 13 and Woodward.

Jerry's '55' Chevy 210

1955 Chevy 210

This local story goes back a long way!  I spoke with a gentleman named Jerry who grew up in Detroit back in the 1950's.  He purchased his second car, a 1955 Chevy 210,  when he was a senior in high school.  He was the class of 1958 and had just recently moved into the Farmington Hills School District.

"My claim to fame was my car.  Jerry said proudly.  It had been customized and was hot!"  He had saved up and used his own money to buy this Chevy.  It was his second car, but it was his first (as he put it) "romantic" car.

Jerry had his pride and joy custom painted purple with sparkles.  He said he chose this color so he would stand out when he was cruising.

For all you classic car lovers out there, here are some of it's specs:   It had dual exhaust with flow master mufflers, a beefed up transmission and a truck clutch (for more grab on the road).

His sound system had a reverberator.  For those of you who don't know what a reverberator is (I didn't!), Jerry explained it to me this way, "The sound coming out of the radio in the front of the car is delayed by a millisecond before the sound comes out of the back speakers, creating a stereo sound without a stereo system."

Jerry also had a process called "leading" done.  This is where all the ornaments are taken off and the holes are filled with melted lead, giving the car a very clean look.

Being that Jerry was from Detroit, he wasn't exactly welcomed by the "in crowd" at his new high school.  "I liked to mess with the locals since I was a city boy" he chuckled.

His car was a way to break the ice with his classmates.  Here is a story he shared with me about what took place during a lunch hour one day during his senior year of high school.

A student who had a 1951 Ford challenged Jerry to a race.  "What the heck!  Something to do on your lunch hour right?" Jerry said.

Well, as it turns out the stretch of road from Orchard Lake to Shiawassee (the road the high school was on) measured about a 1/4 mile.  Jerry and the other student met on Orchard Lake Road for the start, taking up both lanes of the highway.  The signal was given and off they went!  "Of course, I won, Jerry stated smugly.  "I knew I could beat him even though he had an eight cylinder and I only had a six cylinder, because six cylinders are quicker off the line."

Jerry's principal caught wind of the drag race the following day and he was suspended for two days!  His mother wasn't very happy about the suspension and took Jerry's car away for a week!  "Unfortunately, I really didn't learn much of a lesson from the whole experience, because I had a love affair with cars that couldn't be tempered by any restrictions, although I never raced in front of school again!"

Since 1958, Jerry's "love affair with cars" has continued throughout the years...he has had over 40 since his 1955 Chevy 210!

My goal for my blog is to cruise around Metro Detroit in search of great stories behind the classic cars of Motown (and it's surrounding suburbs).

 Many classic cars have been handed down from generation to generation.  Some are purchased on a whim.   Many owners have more than one classic car in their collection.  Some are given as a gift.  Some are father and son projects or father and daughter projects. All of them have a story to be told.

I will be finding these stories and share them on my blog along with visuals. Restoration pics, cruising pics, before and after shots.


 I am christening my blog with a 1968 Mustang Coupe, 289 engine, custom orange paint job!

On nice warm days, this classic beauty can be found cruising in Troy, Michigan and on Woodward during the Dream Cruise.

Her name is "Mustang Sally".  She was originally built in California and was recently purchased from a park ranger in Washington State.

Here is the crazy story behind this '68' Mustang and it's current owner.

This gentleman's search for a classic car began in early 2011.  A man in Troy Michigan decided to find his wife a unique 15th wedding anniversary gift.  For years his wife had told him stories about the classic '66' Mustang that she used drive in her high school days and how she and her girlfriends used to drag race down Woodward Ave. every Friday night.

He found the perfect car!  A custom painted, orange '68'Ford Mustang Coupe with a 289 engine!  The price was perfect, there was only one catch, it was in Washington State and he lived in Southeastern Michigan.  He could have had it shipped to him ....or...he could do something crazy and completely out of his normal routine,  like tell your wife you're going golfing with your son for a long weekend and instead, jump on a plane with your 13 year old son, fly across the country, meet up with the seller, a Park Ranger from Washington State Park,  hop in your newly purchased Mustang and begin a memorable, once in a lifetime, road trip across the United States on a rainy weekend in May.

Did I mention rain!  Turns out '68' Mustangs aren't very good at keeping out the rain.  Water was leaking in the windows and hitting them in the face most of their first day on the road.  The car was running great so the man and his son decided to drive into Yellowstone Park.  They were amazed at the beauty of the mountains, the wild animals, the geysers and hot springs, even Old Faithful.

They found out when the sun began to settle into the mountains and the temperature in Montana dropped, that their new purchase had no heat!  A warm, thick Yellowstone souvenir blanket helped keep their toes warm.

Sleeping in road side hotels, eating beef jerky, flying down the freeways at a blistering 60 miles an hour, listening to the Eagles belting out "Take It Easy"...they crossed the country arriving home two days after their journey had begun.

The weary man and his son sneakily pulled the wife's anniversary surprise in a neighbor/friend's driveway.  The son ran in the house towing his golf clubs behind him.  "Mom, I ran in to Cyn (our neighbor) outside, she needs to talk with you for a sec."  

The wife came outside "Surprise!!! Happy Anniversary!" her husband shouted...she froze, mouth hanging open, speechless!

The stories of what had taken place over the last two days spilled out of her son and her husband...the wife with tears in her eyes hugged both of the men, jumped in her new "toy" and with a smile on her face, disappeared down the street!






She was driven across country by a man and his 13 year old son, through Yellowstone Park in Wyoming and made her way to her new home in Troy Michigan (in May of 2011) where she was presented to the man's wife as a surprise anniversary gift.