tell a Model A related story
 

My computerskill is ordinary and I don’t know how to add to the thread of ‘ Tell a Model A related story’. So here is a new thread on my A story.
I grew up inNew Zealand and left school in 1965. I always looked up to the bigger boys who had left school quite a bit earlier and who drove Model A’s which was the obsolete family car.
In 1967 Imoved to Australia in search of a pilot job and became an agricultural pilot,commonly called a cropduster. ( I retire this year after 50 years ofcropdusting).
One day in1973 I went to spread fertilizer on pasture for a farmer in the New England region of New South Wales. The farmer arrived to give me instructions. He was driving an A. A tourer (phaeton) cut down to a Ute (pickup). I crawled over it,asked many questions and was probably a nuisance. The farmer’s son arrived,also in an A. Then another, again in an A. Well how many do you have? Eleven was the reply. He went on to explain they bought them at clearing sales for about 10 pound each. (Imperial currency was superseded in 1966 with decimal currency).
He showed me one in a shed and the only restoration it required was a new head liner. I had to ask of course, would he sell me one. No he wouldn’t. But I always liked him for what he did. They all were undercover and thus not deteriorating.
Years passed but my love for the A still remained. Well in 1988 one was advertised locally and its condition was appalling. I made the purchase much to the disgust of my wife along with much verbal abuse. All up it cost me 33K AUD to get restored. I am a poor mechanic and don’t enjoy the work so it was all done by hired professional people. It did represent about twice the market value of the vehicle. But I was both pleased and proud. It has a beautiful engine and performs well.
Today I havethat same car plus 2 others as well as the first Australian all made vehicle, a Holden (G.M.) with 23500 miles on the speedo. (One for each of my kids). They have succeeded in keeping me poor but I love them. My wife has learned to tolerate them and the amount of verbal has reduced.
I use the Ute a lot and I’m happy for all and sundry to take any of them for a drive. I’m not protective with them and if people express concern about damaging them I tell them they were resurrected from a damaged pile of junk and can be again.
My log onname to ‘Ford Barn’ is Woofa express. Woofa is the hound in the picture. He is not allowed in the house or our cars with the exception of the A. Woofa considers the A to be his car.
I am a member of our local vintage car club plus the Victorian Model A Club. It is pleasing to get help from the A club and ‘Ford Barn’. There are so many people who are willing to share their knowledge out there. I take this opportunity to say thankyou to those people.

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

Hi there, I enjoyed your story. I’ve always thought that cropdusting would be a real hoot, and I’ve never talked with someone who did it as a profession.

I grew up in Oregon in the Pacific northwestern part of the US. There weren’t a lot of people in this state back then and we still aren’t densely populated. Lots of open land and more than a few cropdusters.

My model A stories start over 60 years ago when I was 13. My first car was a 1931 coupe that I bought for $25. That car didn’t have a dent in it, and really didn’t need restoration. I took it apart anyway and learned about every nut and bolt in that car. My love of cars really started with that coupe, and I’ll never forget it. That car taught me how to drive in every condition you can think of, and I owe my love of driving to that first coupe.

I consider myself so fortunate that I grew up in a time when model A’s were a dime a dozen. I miss those times when a simple drive could result in finding a model A hidden in a berry patch or sitting in a barn. All those drives were like treasure hunts for me, and man did I find a lot of treasure. My folks allowed me to have one car at a time. So, when one was up and running, I’d sell it and get another. That love of those old model A’s kept me out of trouble. I don’t even want to imagine the trouble I would have gotten into if it hadn’t been for those cars.

Give Woofa a pet for me,

Mike

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

hi Mike. that's a good story too. you were so lucky to get access to such a large amount of A's.
I've been to Klamath Falls in your state. I had a cropdusting mate at Williams Cal who flew me up there and on to Walla Walla. Sadly prostate took him. He survived 2 Viet Nam tours as helicopter pilot and years of cropdusting to be taken out with health issue.


I was impressed at Klamath because the military were able to operate with airliners, light aircraft and cropdusters. The military here think they are above all others and it is below their dignity to mix with other 'lowly' types. shame.


Thanks for your response, cheers, gary

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

I was parked at a casino and a very, very old, and very grayed haired lady came by and started looking at my car, she started to tear up, told me it brought back many fond memories, she thanked me and left.

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

Hey WOOFA.EXPRESS, I enjoyed your Model A story. Here is a rather long story about my first Model A. This was published in one of the Model A Magazines a few years ago and I updated it again a couple years ago. Now I have to get it running again so my Grandson and I can drive it 1800 miles to it's new home when he turns 16 in 2019. Really looking forward to that. Enjoy the read and maybe I'll send you another about my original 1931 Station Wagon with wood wheels. Dick Knapp


On the road again after 45 year rest... by Dick Knapp
This is my 1929 Business Coupe that I drove to High School in 1955. It was my Grandpa's only transportation for
many years and I remember riding home in this car to spend the weekend with he and Grandma. My Grandpa bought this car from Ward Winchester in Clintonville, Wisconsin sometime in the late 40's. I got the car in 1954. When sanding the doors to prepare for a new paint job I found a logo on the doors for The Commonwealth Telephone Company. Perhaps that was the telephone company in Clintonville in the late 30's. I kinda restored it ( I think you know what I mean) in 1964. I changed it to a Sport Coupe with a rumble seat. Then it was parked while we raised a family and moved around the country with the US Air Force. About 2008 I got serious about giving this car a good restoration and I decided that it had to go back to a Business Coupe.
Many old cars nuts have an interesting story and I hope that you enjoy this story about me and my 1929 Model A Business Coupe. It starts in the early 1950's. I grew up in a little town called Clintonville, not too far from Iola, Wisconsin. My car experiences started early when my Mom decided I needed something to do to keep me out of trouble over summer school vacations. She took me to the local JC’s sign-up for the Soap Box Derby program as soon as I was eligible at age 10. After winning third place that first year I was hooked and went on to compete every year until I was fifteen. I won some races and always finished near the top, but never won the Green Bay regional event for the trip to Akron.
Actually, my experience as a developing gear head and old car nut started even earlier. My Dad had left our family when I was about eight or nine and both of my Grandpas’s spent extra time with me, their oldest Grandson. My Grandpa in Clintonville had a full time wrecking business. He lived just across the street and had a small wrecking yard right behind our house. What a great place for a kid to play! My other Grandpa had a part time wrecking business in Bear Creek, so it is no wonder that I was developing a love for old cars.
When Grandpa got a call to pick up an old car, he would call me to go along in the wrecker. Iola,, Big Falls, Symco and Marion were places I remember going to often to haul a Model T, Model A or old Studebaker out of the weeds. If the car didn’t have tires, the front end was winched up on to the back of the wrecker. Then the cable was run over the top to the back bumper. The car could be winched up off the ground, but of course the top was crushed with a big crease from the cable. When we would get back from these trips my Grandpa usually gave me a quarter with the advice that I should put it in the bank because I could get three percent interest on it.
Grandpa was anxious for me to learn how to drive that wrecker so I could be more help to him. My legs were not long enough to reach the pedals, so I would sit on his lap and steer while he worked the pedals and his big hand covered mine as he guided me through the gears on that four-speed. I eventually could reach the pedals by sitting on the front edge of the seat. That led to driving the wrecker around the bone yard helping move motors and cars here and there. The wrecker had a winch that was PTO driven. A lever in the floor engaged the winch. The transmission had to be in neutral and you had to let the clutch out to work the winch. I remember one incident very well with this winch. Grandpa unhooked the motor I just hauled and he hooked the loose cable to one of the boom supports. I drove off to pick up another motor not realizing that I had not taken the winch out of gear. The cable was tightening up and pulling the entire boom up and over, coming down soon to crush the cab. Grandpa saw what was happening and stopped me before a real disaster happened. He was not happy and I’m not sure, but I probably did not get my quarter that day.
At fifteen years old I was through racing Soap Box Derby cars, so I went to the local Ford garage to apply for a job. They hired me be to sweep floors, pump gas, wash and grease cars and stock shelves. What I wouldn’t give now to go through some of those shelves of new old stock parts. One day someone traded in a 40 Ford convertible with a Columbia overdrive. I really wanted that car. I talked the salesman into letting me take it home to get Mom's approval (and financial support) to buy it. I took my Grandpa from Bear Creek and my Mom for a ride, but they were not too impressed. They didn’t think that a 16 year old needed a hot V-8 convertible. So, they came up with a plan. Mom would buy Grandpa a mid 40’s Studebaker and Grandpa would give me his Model A Business coupe. Well, that is what happened and this Model A became my wheels through High School in 1955. It was stored through our early years of marriage and in the mid-60's I restored it as best as I knew how. I put about 1500 miles on it and we decided that a Model A sedan would be better with our three small children. So, this Model A was stored and would not see the road again for 45 years. In 2010, after a two- year restoration, the finished restoration picture was taken on my first test drive. I sent this article and a picture to Old Cars magazine and it made the cover and featured article for that month. This soon became my favorite ride. We took it to my 55th class reunion in Clintonville in September, 2010.
I think my Grandpa would be pleased to know that I plan to continue the tradition and give this car to Preston, my oldest Grandson. He is 14 now and this car will be his if he wants it when he turns sixteen (I am hoping that he does not plan to put a hot V-8 in it). I am also hoping that together we can drive it to California in 2019 and hoping that his Dad will sell some Mustangs to make room for another great car.

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

Love Model A stories. My 30 Cabby was redone in the 60's in NY someplace. Smokey has carried me many-a mile with new stories every trip.
We were someplace and an elderly couple came up to her. The purple haired lady was looking longingly in the Rumble seat. I've seen that misty look before so I sez "Did you ever fool around in a rumble seat. Her eyes watered as she blurted out "YES, but not with HIM"!! Then my eyes watered...

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Very similar story, while travelling through Central Australia returning home from the National Model A Meet we had stopped at a trailer park where we had spent two nights. I was taking the opportunity to service the car when I was approached by an older gentleman who showed much interest in the car, he asked all the usual questions and was a very interesting man to talk to. As I had time to spare i asked him if he would like to go for a drive. He readily accepted my offer.
He chatted as we drove down the road but suddenly I detected a change in his voice as he stopped talking. I looked across at him and he had tears streaming down his face. Somewhat embarressed he explained. I had just taken him back to when he was a 13 year old child sitting beside his dad in their Model A on the way to school.
Never under estimate the memories that our cars evoke.

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Love the stories.............keep them coming

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15 years ago, I was browsing the local auto trader. There is a 1931 model a pickup for $1250. It's a complete truck with lower rust on the cab. So off I go with trailer in tow. When I got there, Chicago suburb, I mentioned to the seller that there were some odd things about the truck. First, the bed appeared to be off a later year and then there was the roof which was filled in with sheet metal. The seller told me that other potential buyers said pretty much the same thing. He says "just give me $650 and it's yours". Not knowing much about model a's at the time, I went ahead and bought it. After doing a little research I find that what I bought was a Late 31, indented firewall, widebed with the steel top. And fwiw, painted steel radiator shroud and headlights. Still have it. Done nothing with it yet. There is sits.

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now comes later in the year that one of my neighbors complained to the county about me having a truck in the back yard. Sure enough, here they come and tell me that I can't do that and I have to move it. I asked the county about any ordinance regarding yard art. When they asked me why, I said that if I have to move it that it was going to be moved to the middle of my front yard and that I will be sure to decorate it for whatever holiday is upon us. Lets just say that the truck stayed where it was until I got my garage built.

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Prostate Cancer is an affection us guys have to worry about. After age 65, 75% will have Prostate Cancer, mine appeared at age 65 right on the money. I had it removed and don't regret it for the most part. After the cancer escapes the Prostate it considered incurable and only treatable. Keep a check on your PSA number Guys.

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I have SO MANY STORIES, I wouldn't know WHERE to start!!!---It'd take me FOREVER, to tipe even ONE!
Bill Undecidedandslow

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B, How 'bout you and them 3girls in the rumble in a rainstorm...

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In the late 1960s my parents frequented a small store called D&W's, which was located about a block from our house. My father, who owned a 1937 Ford at the time, knew the store owner Wally. Wally had a 1929 Model A Fordor sedan. Sometimes he would drive it to work and park it in the grass field adjacent to the small store.

One day we went to the store and Wally was closing up. When we were done with our business in the store Wally left his wife in charge and gave me and my dad a ride in the Model A Fordor. The seats were nice and the car was in perfect shape. My first ride in someone else's antique auto. Fifty years ago and I remember it still.

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My father, who instilled the love of the Model A in me, used to tell a story about when he was dating my mother in the late 40s just after the war. He had a 30 two door sedan and was taking my mom to the local dance. When it was time to go home they encountered a bunch of later model cars stuck in the mud in the middle of the road. Of course the Model A went right through to the other side and then Dad procceded to pull the other cars out.Somehow in the process my mothers dress got splashed with mud coming through the floor boards and she got very mad. Dad said that was almost the end of the courtship but luckily for me it wasn't. Dad said Mom hated that Model A and would make him park blocks away from any destination so that no one would see them in it. Dad loved that Model A more than anything. Frank

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

yeh. Like to hear that one Clem.

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I have ookbeen an old car nut always and have always noticed the old hulks hiding in the weeds and barn when no one with ever sees a thing. 40 Years ago when I was around 20, I found a farmers scrap yard in northern Wisconsin. It was along a fence line in a low area that looks like it would collect water. Everyone in the area would give him their stuff to get rid of. I walked back in there and mentally noted at least 20 restorable cars along with parts of another 10. They were mostly fords 20s, 30s, and 40s. When my son was around 20, we went back to the same area and it appeared to be all gone from the road. In reality the tree line had grown up all around it to almost completely cover the area. We walked back up in there and the treasure is still mostly there! There are two stock cars, a 41 ford coupe and a 39 ford Coupe both with the steel cages and roll bars and still having there flathead V8 intact. They both have advertising on them and the pit crews and drivers name painted on with a brush! Cant find anyone that lives within 5 miles of the spot that admits they owns this stash !! !!!

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My Last Drive.

While out driving around in my model A, I swerved to avoid hitting a deer, lost control and landed in a ditch, severely banging my head.
Dazed and confused I crawled out of the ditch to the edge of the road when a shinny new convertible pulled up with a very beautiful woman who asked, "Are you okay?"
As I looked up, I noticed she was wearing a low cut blouse with cleavage to die for...
"I'm okay I think," I replied as I pulled myself up to the side of the car to get a closer look.
She said, “Get in and I’ll take you home so I can clean and bandage that nasty scrape on your head.”
"That's nice of you," I answered, but I don't think my wife will like me doing that!
"Oh, come now, I’m a nurse," she insisted. "I need to see if you have any more scrapes and then treat them properly."
Well, she was really pretty and very persuasive. Being sort of shaken and weak, I agreed, but repeated, "I'm sure my wife won't like this."
We arrived at her place which was just few miles away and, after a couple of cold beers and the bandaging, I thanked her and said, "I feel a lot better but I know my wife is going to be really upset so I'd better go now."
"Don't be silly!" she said with a smile, while unbuttoning her blouse exposing the most beautiful set of boobs I’ve ever seen. "Stay for a while. She won't know anything. By the way, where is she?"
"Still in the ditch with my model A, I guess."

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My Dad used to tell me a Model A Story. Two friends of his used to visit him in Washington, D.C. during prohibition. They would always bring him a little sample from St Mary's County, Maryland. One week they rounded a curve to fast on the way back to the country and turned over into a field. The next week they had a friend with them.
The driver said, "Hey, this is the turn we took to fast last week..." and did it again. The friend told my Dad, but the guys tried to deny it. The dented fenders attested to the story.

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The purchase of my first A; ‘the staff car’








After makingthe purchase of my first A I drove it home. It was running very poorly,difficult to drive and was quite a spectacle for all to see. I had paid $2k forthis and the farmer who sold it to me thought I was just nuts. He was correct .
As I said, quitea spectacle. When I reached our small town of 2000 I followed a ute (pickup)that had a load of school kids, all in cricket whites, armed with shin pads andbats and stumps. Everything one uses to play cricket. They were being driven tothe sports grounds to play.
Well whenthey saw me in that car, now Jed Clampett’s car couldn’t hold a candle to it,they with outstretched arms gave me the thumbs up. At that very instant, as ifit was their signal of command, the car got wheel shimmy. With their outstretchedarms their thumbs up immediately became an outstretched fore finger pointing atme, heads held right back and they were roaring with laughter. I think I still had their approval.
Then intoour back yard. Didn’t get wife’s approval. Instead got her abuse. What? Whatwill you do with that? We don’t have much money and you’ve just blown a heap ona pile of rusty tin!
Well thingsremained at a standstill for a while. As I said we had no money. Eventually itwas rebuilt and runs well. She has softened. It is painted desert sand (light)and has been named ‘the staff car’.
It was usedin my business. For a 2 month period we accommodated an additional 2 pilotsduring the rice sowing season. In the morning we took a car each to work becausewe would return that evening at differing times. The first two out tookvehicles with closed cabins and the last took the A. Mornings were quite cool.However the first to return home in the afternoon or evening took the A. It waswarm then.
A traditionat the start of every season was to buy new and ridiculous hats. One yearMexican. On this particular afternoon we donned these hats and drove 10 milessouth to Tocumwal. I well remember, infact would never forget, being overtakenby an expensive Landrover with 3 mature and well dressed ‘Ladies’. As the drewabeam the all turned and looked left (we drive on the left in Au). At that very instant they broke down withlaughter. Difficult to describe the instantaneous and intensity of that verymoment but the 3 of us still mention it from time to time. The incident was notintended to attract attention however I shall not forget it. I betcha theladies in the Landrover won’t either neither will the kids in the back of the ute.

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Hello Marvin.
yes, it's a problem for all of us. however it seems good news has arrived on the horizon. the injection of steam kills it all. I'm not a medical man but that's what I read in the newspaper.

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

there's 2 more there now Ben

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

When I first started driving, my model A’s were not real weather-proof. You didn’t want to hit a big pot-hole or you’d blow a tire, and if that pot-hole was full of water, you got wet. I got so used to drafts that now I feel uncomfortable unless there is a fan blowing overhead. And the rattles, whenever I rode in a modern car back then, it seemed so quiet. My god, you could even have a conversation without raising your voice.

Those days are long gone now, but whenever I drive any of my newer vehicles I’m still amazed at how dry and warm I am when it’s really raining out there. I make a comment to my wife about lucky we are to be so comfortable, and she looks at me like I’m nuts. When I comment about how well the wipers work compared to my old cars, she just shakes her head. I guess you had to experience the drafts, wet floorboards, shitty visibility, and rattles to be able to appreciate how far cars have come.

Her first car was a brand new 1964 and 1/2 Mustang convertible, and she lived just outside Detroit. I’ve always wondered what the serial number was on that thing before her older brother wrecked it. It might have been one of the first 100 Mustang convertibles ever made.

My first car was a 1931 Ford coupe for $25. Hey, it was only 27 years old at the time, and I thought that car was the neatest car in the world. Only my older friends had cars, and all my friends that were my age couldn’t believe that I had my own car. They didn’t know that I was too young to legally own it. The title was in my folk’s name, and I really didn’t own squat, but every penny that bought and went into that car had come from me and me alone.

I can remember the other boys my age coming over to watch me work on it. I taught them a lot about what wrench was for what. I remember the girls I had grown up with coming over to just watch Mike work on his car.

Those were very different times, and they made me who I am today. I feel so fortunate to have had parents that realized that a greasy, grimy 13 year old was better than one out getting in trouble.

Mike

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wow

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When asked if he had any Kids, my son, Gregg (RIP) would say, "Not that I know about"!---LOL
Greggs' Dad

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Winnie theblue dog crashes vintage car.

Well I wasboth proud and pleased with my restored 28 A model. It was advertised in theMelbourne newspaper by a local farmer in our area. Had been a paddock basheruntil it wasn’t even any good for that. 2K was the asking price and whilst Icouldn’t immediately put my hands on that money the farmer agreed he would keepit for me until I could come up with it. There was numerous enquiries fromMelbourne which was 200 miles south.
I had itwell restored costing twice it’s market value but I was pleased.
I had a dog,a blue healer cattle dog by the name of Winnie. Winnie had been my daughtersdog. Given to her as a puppy which outgrew its cuteness when it grew into a propersize hound. It was left with us, her parents, on a temporary permanent basis. I have heard many stories about parentsinheriting dogs from their kids.
It’s ourpolicy not to have dogs in the house or car. One exception is the Model A. Winniewould sit on the floor only and never miss an opportunity of going where everit took her.
One thisparticular day, with the car running and parked in our yard, with the driversdoor open (it’s always been my policy to close car doors) Winnie was not goingto miss this ride. Up she jumped and squeezed between the seat and the gearstick. The gear stick was pushed forward and almost without a crunch was inreverse. I saw this. The staff car chugging backwards and approaching a 3000gallon fuel tank. Well the expected occurred. Crunch. I hadn’t made it back to thevehicle at that moment and here was the staff car held stationary with wheelsrotating in the dirt.
I climbedin. Winnie gave one of those dog smiles to display her pleasure. I gave her apat. How could I be pissed with something she did not intend and had no idea ofmy panic and 7 second 100 yard dash.
Fortunately damagewas minimal and the rear bumper bar had saved the day. She continued her chaufferdriven rides and we still loved her.

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Keep a check on your PSA number Guys.

yes, males have a prostate. Females don't.
Isn't the modern term quite silly. Including girls as guys?

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My father most always took me to work with him when I was old enough to clean parts and tools etc. One day I overheard him tell a customer about something happening at a Ford Shop where he worked before WWll.
He just happened to be working on a Model A when he noticed a very unkempt man nosing around the shop. The Bum was looking and watching everyone and everything but touched nothing and talked to no one. When my father noticed the guy seemed to have moved on he asked the shop foreman about the guy and the foreman said, "nobody important, just Henry Ford".

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In 1958 I was driving my almost new Corvette when a Model A pickup passed, going in the opposite direction. I chased him down and bought it for the outrageous price of $150, about half-again what most A's were going for but it was pretty straight and I wanted an A pickup. It was almost stock, 16" steel wheels, '30 rad shell and sealed beam headlights. Turned out to be an early, late '31. No solid top but all the rest of the late-'31 stuff. I ran it for a few months until 2nd gear lost a tooth, then put in a 2-port Riley, B trans with Zephyr gears. It has since had a 4-port Cook, a Cyclone flathead and now a 4-port Riley on a late '31 block, and a Colombia diff. The body is still stock and will remain that way. I now have a speedster and a Vicky, but my favorite driver is still the wide-bed. It will cruise all day at 65-70 MPH, and get 20+ MPG. Like other Model A's, it gets looks from people all the time, so there are other stories too, and I enjoy reading about them.

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Today my wife mustered up her friends and a few fellas and we drove 55km, (about 35miles) north to the town of Jerilderie.
The town isfamous for a bank robbery by Australia’s most notorious highway gang. A family by the name of Kelly. A bit like the English gang of Robin Hood. Well the Kelly gang held up the entire town for 3 days until someone could find the bank manager to open the bank safe. They took two and a half thousand pounds which I am told is the equivalent of 4 million today. They burned the deeds to loans so as the bank had no security on money they lent to farmers. Unfortunately for the farmers the bank had duplicates stored in Melbourne, about 250 miles south.They got away with this and many other robberies for a long time but eventually they were betrayed. Today the nation has conflicting opinions on the “Kelly Gang”. Many believe the police tormented them, others believe they were just cold blooded police killers.
Another historical fact is Australia’s most famous soldier grew up there. John Monash. Bought precision to the WW1 battle field in Europe. Considered the best allied general.
The Queen’shat maker or what was once called a milliner was born in Jerilderie. Frederic Fox.
And an author by the name of Ruth Ham is a Jerilderie girl. She wrote a book which turned into a delightful and funny movie by the name of “the dressmaker”.
A late resident by the name of Michael Hastings lived there. According to records acquired by British “Thames TV” Michael was the legitimate king of England. It was claimed by British that the legitimacy of the blood line had been busted unless a previous Queen (named and I don’t remember who) had an 11 months gestation period whilst the king was at war. Well Michael reckoned it was difficult enough being a Pom in Australia let alone a titled one. He had no desire to challengethe British Royals.
The population is, according to a 2016 census is 1029.
Well back to our day in Jerilderie. We had a tour around the old “Westpac” bank, house and gardens. Tea and scones. The house was packed with memorabilia. Packed and interesting. Includes the safe, which the Kelly’s had waited 3 days to get open.The hosts, Roy and Beth are great hosts. Beth plays the piano like a true entertainer. Roy was a dance teacher and taught many well know Australian dancers. Roy had been a collector all his life. He had about 20 antique cars. He believes about twenty. Mostly late 20’s. Included 2 Model A’s. All stored in old turkey sheds.
Well one day a bloke turned up and asked to buy either one or the lot. He was greeted by Roy’s mum who was more than 80 yo. Well Roy’s mum said she would like to get theplace cleaned up and told them to take the lot. Roy doesn’t know who they were or where the cars ended up. Mum wasn’t paid a cent. One, an Overlander, onceRoy’s dad’s car had taken Roy 4 years to pay off an interim owner.
The receiver of the cars was never heard of again and I would consider him a thief. Roy said he never reprimanded his mother. “She was over 80 so what was the point.”

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In 1966 I was a student at Orange Coast College in Costa Mesa, California. We had to go to Palm Springs for a Journalism Conference. Since a 1930 Model A Coupe was the only car I owned, my girl friend and I drove it the 125 or so miles over to Palm Springs. She was all dressed up in a nice dress and panty hose and high heels. However, it was a warm day and the Model A was running a bit warm climbing from the coast to Riverside and then over the top of the hill. The panty hose became intolerable and she decided that they had to come off! We were running just a little bit late and did not want to stop and in those days there were not too many places to stop. She just pulled up her dress into her lap and then wiggled and wiggled and half stood up in order to get the panty hose to come off. I'm sure they were pretty sweaty in cab of that Model A chugging up the hill with the GAV cranked open and the spark advance almost to the bottom, up just enough to stop the spark knock. Well, there were no panties under the panty hose and it was all that I could do to keep the car on the road...we still know each other and we still laugh about that trip once in a while...We were only 19 at the time, and it was a long time ago...but I can still see every detail...Ernie

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[emoji23]Ernie you dog.

Sent from my SM-J700T using Tapatalk

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

Woof!

Re: tell a Model A related story
 

I'm sure most of you read this before, but if you missed it, enjoy

My Very First Model A

David K. Mc Arthur, Danville, California
I was a young firefighter in Oakland, California. At that time we were called Firemen and we were just that, men that fought fires. Anyway, over the fence from the firehouse I could see what appeared to be some old car with four doors and no top of any sort. One day I saw movement in that yard and ran out and got the attention of some guy that was taking his trash to his burn barrel.
The gentleman came to the fence and we discussed the car to the point I knew I had to have it and he knew I would bring him $25 come payday. Like all Model A’s for sale, then as now, “it had run when they parked it, with a new rebuild on the engine.” Though it had been a Fordor sedan it had now been made into a rough Phaeton by his brother who owned a good hacksaw. What I saw was what I would get.
Come payday we exchanged $25 for a piece of paper that said I could have the car and that all paperwork had been lost. He was an Oakland cop so I trusted that he hadn’t personally stolen it. The deal was wrapped up. I would pull the car out of there when I could find someone fool enough to help me.
Finding that fool didn’t take long. My oldest brother, Perry, had a 1955 Ford truck and a piece of strong parachute cord, some type of nylon line that was very long. He and I went to the house. We and a few friends of the cop pushed the car out to the street and tied the two vehicles together with the parachute cord, leaving plenty of room between them for emergencies; though we all knew nothing could possible go wrong.
My brother leaped in his truck and I into the Model A. Immediately he was in motion. I sat there and watched as he drove a good hundred feet and probably more with the cord getting tighter and tighter, yet I hadn’t moved. Then suddenly I was under way. Boy, was I underway. Went from zero to the hundred feet in two seconds as my brother made sure to outrun me.
I thought we had discussed going easy at first until we knew I had some brakes and steering that worked. I guess Perry missed that part of the conversation. When we got to the first intersection, he slowed down and I couldn’t so he made a sharp right onto
Piedmont Avenue and yanked me around that corner, as once more he outran me, By now I knew that there were very little if an brakes and that it had very stiff steering. Though I was a young bull, I had the devil of a time turning the steering wheel.
The next major intersection was a breeze, Perry drove through the yellow light a good hundred feet in front of me and made his left turn onto Mac Arthur Blvd, a four lane major thoroughfare through Oakland. Of course, I was now approaching a red light at half the speed of sound, screaming at cars to stay where they were. They did because they saw a white thread across their path and then I came through with half flat tires squealing as I attempted the turn to follow my brother. The nylon grew back to its normal size as I now began to approach his rear bumper. He drove faster and I began to see a bit of distance between us. He then had to stop for the signal at Fruitvale Avenue. I had no such trouble, running into the back of him and knocking him about half way up to Lincoln Avenue. That is a very long block.
We next had to cross 35th Avenue, High Street and eventually make the turn on 73rd Avenue to Bancroft. Each time I knocked his poor truck through the intersection and each time the Good Lord was kind to us both. He didn’t die of whiplash and I wasn’t skewered like a roast by the steering column of the Model A. We got to my brother-in-law’s Texaco Service Station and had our last collision of the day. As Perry stopped beside the station, I passed him and hit a concrete barrier behind the building.
Other than my brothers back bumper and fenders there appeared to be no lasting damage. We pulled and pushed, kicked and pried and shortly his truck looked good enough for who it was for and the Model A was probably in better shape than when we started because now all the wheels turned and the steering had lightened up as some of the grease finally worked its way over the steering gears.
The car sat there for a couple of months and eventually it disappeared and I didn’t even ask where it went for years. Then I asked the brother in law and he said he thought I came and got it. So it really had just disappeared. Probably best for all involved, except the poor fool that stole it.
May-June 2017 • The Restorer

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My Grand Father came to Detroit from Bay City Michigan in order to support his family. He had a little grocery store but it was just keeping the doors open and not making enough to live. There were ads in all the papers about Ford's Five Dollar Day! He came to work at the River Rouge Plant. He was put in the casting department. He said it was very hard , hot, dirty and very loud in that part of the shop. In the afternoon one day he was hard at work when someone came up from behind and lightly squeezed his arm. He looked up and it was Henry Ford !! Since it was so loud they couldnt speak and be heard , Henry just gave him the thumbs up and off he wandered

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My story begins before I was born. My father bought this 1930 Ford Tudor new; it was the first car he ever owned. I was brought home from the hospital in this car. The photo shows me in front of the car with my wooden pram on top; I’m 3 or 4 years old.

In December 1938 I cried when he traded the Ford in for this new Plymouth RoadKing because I thought he would not haul my boat on top of it. However, he did haul the boat on top of his brand new car. It is hard to see but that is my mother in the driver’s seat.

Robert

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good one Robert.

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In ’73 and ’74I was spreading fertilizer across farmland in the New England region of NewSouth Wales. On this particular day I landed and taxied up to one big pile ofsuper phosphate.
Along drovethe farmer. He was to give me instructions on where to spread this, applicationrates and any special instructions or requests. Nothing unusual about that. Butwhat was unusual was his ute (pickup to Americans). An A Model. Even as a kid Ialways loved A Models. The only difference now was the fact I was a big kid. WellI was more interested in his motor car than details of his job. Then along camefarmers son. In a Model A. This took my attention until a third son arrived toin a Model A.
Just howmany of these things do you have I asked. 10 was his reply. How come I asked.
He went onto say that each clearing sale that had one listed they attended and bought. Aboutten pound each. They thought that one day they would be valuable. They showedme a Victorian in almost perfect order. Would they sell it to me. No, sorry.
Well I was disappointed.But also pleased with him. He had them all garaged. Out of the weather. I havecome across so many old cars and tractors in the weather where the owners won’tsell and won’t put under cover.
Whilst writingthis now I have decided I might track down that family and communicate withthem. I have 3 A’s. My wife insists that is why we have no money.

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I may have told this before but here goes.

When I was in high school my friend Steve drove a Model A Closed Cab Pickup to school. His family had a small orange orchard on their property. It was on the side of a hill and the only truck that could go up and down the steep hill to bring down the fruit was the Model A.

We had first period gym and the guys would stand outside the gym before class. One day Steve drove by in his Model A with a broom, that they used to clean the bed, stucking up in bed by the cab. Back in the day, the big thing was to put duel pipes on your car. When he came over, one of the wise guys said "hey Steve, when are you going to get duel broom!" All the guys erupted in laughter.

The next day, Steve drove by with duel brooms stuck in the bed. For the rest of the year, his nick name was "duel brooms."

David Serrano