Back in the summer of 1961, my Grandfather bought a new 1961 Chevrolet Biscayne 2 dr, 6 cyl, three speed manual on the column. The car was Jewel Blue with an Arctic white top. When he took delivery of his new Biscayne, I inherited his old 1951 Chevy Fastback. I was in heaven—my first car. I didn’t care that it was a 6 cyl.
stick shift, had no radio, or even that is was a 4 door sedan. I don’t even remember what the mileage was, it was mine!
stick shift, had no radio, or even that is was a 4 door sedan. I don’t even remember what the mileage was, it was mine!
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I drove the car for a few months, and while it was a good reliable car, I had the urge to make it faster. I didn’t like the gray paint, and the gray cloth interior, but the car was free. By 1962 I had all the parts and pieces to make
it a V8. I bought the motor mounts and the transmission adapter to mate the V8 with the transmission. I had all the stuff to convert the electrical system to 12 volts. I went to the junk yard and looked in all the cars to find some gauges that would fit in the dash and work on 12 volts. I discovered that ’55 Buicks had the gauges that fit and they were 12 volts, problem solved. Then I had to find a radio that would fit in the dash, and run on 12 volts. Again I scoured the junk yards to find a suitable donor for my car. All the radio’s that were 12 volts would not fit in the dash, so I ended up using a ’52 Chevy radio and put a voltage reducer in the line to drop the volts from 12 volts to 6 volts, problem solved. I had to replace all the lights in the interior and the dash lights and the headlights and tail lights to operate on 12 volts.
it a V8. I bought the motor mounts and the transmission adapter to mate the V8 with the transmission. I had all the stuff to convert the electrical system to 12 volts. I went to the junk yard and looked in all the cars to find some gauges that would fit in the dash and work on 12 volts. I discovered that ’55 Buicks had the gauges that fit and they were 12 volts, problem solved. Then I had to find a radio that would fit in the dash, and run on 12 volts. Again I scoured the junk yards to find a suitable donor for my car. All the radio’s that were 12 volts would not fit in the dash, so I ended up using a ’52 Chevy radio and put a voltage reducer in the line to drop the volts from 12 volts to 6 volts, problem solved. I had to replace all the lights in the interior and the dash lights and the headlights and tail lights to operate on 12 volts.
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Then I began to fit the 283 Chevy V8 in the space where the 6 cyl. was. I had to cut some firewall braces, and fab up some brackets to make the motor mounts fit on the frame. I had to weld up some exhaust headers to fit on the engine and also fit in the frame. I worked on the engine swap for about 3 weeks. The engine was a 245 horsepower 283 with 2 four barrel carburetors. One night I had everything hooked up enough to make the
engine run, but the front fenders and the hood were not installed yet and the radiator was not installed. There was no front sheet metal on the car, only the engine was in front of the firewall. It was about 12:00 midnight, and I couldn’t wait any longer, I had to hear it run and drive it, if only down the alley for 1 block. Cousin Eddie was
there to help me, and we started the engine and boy did it sound nice without the mufflers. I drove it out of the garage and down to the end of the alley and turned around for the blast back to the garage. When I turned around and started back, I stalled the engine and we had to jump out and hook up the battery to start the engine. We got it running again and I floored the accelerator and flew down the alley in a earsplitting rush. The tires were spinning, and the open exhaust sounded like a P-51! As I raced down the alley, the lights in the houses came on and some of the kids in the neighborhood came running over to the garage. They all were waiting for the first blast down the alley, as they knew I was close to having it running. What a rush, and all the late nights and skinned knuckles were worth it all.
engine run, but the front fenders and the hood were not installed yet and the radiator was not installed. There was no front sheet metal on the car, only the engine was in front of the firewall. It was about 12:00 midnight, and I couldn’t wait any longer, I had to hear it run and drive it, if only down the alley for 1 block. Cousin Eddie was
there to help me, and we started the engine and boy did it sound nice without the mufflers. I drove it out of the garage and down to the end of the alley and turned around for the blast back to the garage. When I turned around and started back, I stalled the engine and we had to jump out and hook up the battery to start the engine. We got it running again and I floored the accelerator and flew down the alley in a earsplitting rush. The tires were spinning, and the open exhaust sounded like a P-51! As I raced down the alley, the lights in the houses came on and some of the kids in the neighborhood came running over to the garage. They all were waiting for the first blast down the alley, as they knew I was close to having it running. What a rush, and all the late nights and skinned knuckles were worth it all.
As the weeks went by, I assembled the front end and made the car driveable, so I could take my girlfriend (who ended up being my wife) out in the new, faster ride. We went everywhere we could, it didn’t matter that the car had no heater, and sometimes the floor shift linkage would hang up and I would have to get out and reach under the car and jiggle the shift linkage to free the shifter. She always knew when I was arriving at her house, the car could be heard from a block away, it surely was not stealthy. I then proceeded to do some body work. I always wanted to try to “French in” the headlights, so I tried to do that. It took me a few times, but I finally was satisfied that it would look like a pro did the job. I had seen a Corvette at Nickey Chevrolet on Irving Park Rd. that was painted Honduras Maroon at the factory, and fell in love with that color. So I sanded down the old gray paint and sprayed some primer on the car. We drove it that way for a few months and then I took it to a body shop for a
professional paint job. When it was finished, the car looked pretty good. I eventually hooked up the heater, and aligned the shifter so it worked all the time. We were really riding in style, and I bought an entire Pontiac Catalina
bucket seat interior, and it was maroon in color too! Now I had the car just like I wanted and everyone agreed that it was a nice custom ’51 Chevy.
professional paint job. When it was finished, the car looked pretty good. I eventually hooked up the heater, and aligned the shifter so it worked all the time. We were really riding in style, and I bought an entire Pontiac Catalina
bucket seat interior, and it was maroon in color too! Now I had the car just like I wanted and everyone agreed that it was a nice custom ’51 Chevy.
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The Fabricator
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As time passed, the drive train proved to be the weak link. The power of the V8 engine would just wear out the internal parts of the transmission. Considering the transmission was designed to transfer power from a 90 horsepower 6 cyl., I was amazed that it lasted as long as it did. The one saving grace with the whole setup was that the tires would break loose before the transmission would break, and then the right side axle would break, thus relieving the transmission of some abuse. The problem would arise when I would speed shift into second gear! I knew when the trans was on it’s last legs when it would make a certain growl. It was when I heard that growl that I began searching for another transmission. I would go up to a junk yard in Waukegan on Green Bay road as they had 50-60 Chevy’s from 1949 to 1954. I could use the trans and the axles from any one of those cars and it would fit. I would get 3 or 4 transmissions at a time and a few axles and as the old trans would break, I’d replace it with one of the transmissions from the junk yard. Some of the transmissions were just as bad or worse than the one I took out, so I began rebuilding transmissions from all the transmissions I had in the garage. If I
needed a part that was worn out and all the parts I had were worn out too, I would make a trip to the junk yard and get 3 or 4 more transmissions. I got pretty good at rebuilding the transmissions and always had at least one ready to install. I finally gave in and installed a complete stronger drive line from a ’55 Chevy. I had to change everything, bell housing, transmission, drive shaft, complete drum to drum rear axle, and the leaf springs from the ’55 Chevy donor car. I had to fabricate some transmission mounts and install a new shifter to fit the new trans. Luckily I found a donor car with all the parts I needed, including a 4:11 gear ratio. So I put all those parts in and then I stopped breaking parts in the drive line. My friend Jim, who lived on the next block wanted the old 4:11 set up that I took out, so I gave it to him. He installed it in a ’54 Chevy.
needed a part that was worn out and all the parts I had were worn out too, I would make a trip to the junk yard and get 3 or 4 more transmissions. I got pretty good at rebuilding the transmissions and always had at least one ready to install. I finally gave in and installed a complete stronger drive line from a ’55 Chevy. I had to change everything, bell housing, transmission, drive shaft, complete drum to drum rear axle, and the leaf springs from the ’55 Chevy donor car. I had to fabricate some transmission mounts and install a new shifter to fit the new trans. Luckily I found a donor car with all the parts I needed, including a 4:11 gear ratio. So I put all those parts in and then I stopped breaking parts in the drive line. My friend Jim, who lived on the next block wanted the old 4:11 set up that I took out, so I gave it to him. He installed it in a ’54 Chevy.
I drove the car for another 6 months and one day I was taking my friend George to work. He worked at the Chicago Tribune newspaper in downtown Chicago, and I was on the Kennedy expressway, when the driver’s side rear wheel came off and damaged the driver’s side rear fender. That was the end of the ’51 Chevy. Soon after that I took out all the good stuff and sold it to my friends who could use the parts to make their car better. It was a sweet ride and I learned a whole lot about my ability to repair a car and the patience to see a task through to the end.
For a short time Cousin Eddie and I owned a 1929 Model A Ford pickup.
Second car was a 1963 Falcon Convertible. Put chrome wheels on it and it was stolen from the lower level of Wacker Dr. in Chicago.
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Living in the city I never drove before we were married so Jake bought me a 1955 Chevy that we rescued from the junk yard for $18.00. He thought it was the perfect car for me to learn how to drive.
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I feel like I have to add this vehicle to our list because it was really our son Jake's first car. It was a 1972 dune buggy pedal car and he drove that thing like he was born knowing how to drive.
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One of our favorite cars was a 1967 Corvette roadster which we owned for 27 years. We went all over the United States in that Here is a picture of the day we brought it home. Our neighbors, the O'Riordon's kids made a sign for us.
We purchased the 1967 Corvette Roadster in 1976. I had been looking for a mid-year Corvette for a while. Our kids were young (6 and 3 years old) and I sold my wife on the idea that these cars would appreciate in value and by the time our kids were old enough to go to College we could sell the Corvette and pay for their College. I found
out about a fellow, Richard Buxbaum, who was selling Corvettes, and he had a warehouse full of them in Lombard, Il. Further investigation revealed the shop was behind a Good Year tire store on Roosevelt Rd. I found the store and drove around the rear and sure enough there was the warehouse, and yes he had 20-25 Corvettes of all years inside. I walked around the warehouse and picked out 3 or 4 favorites. I really didn’t know what I wanted, and picked cars that looked cosmetically appealing. I later found out that was not the way to choose a Corvette. There was a few guys there that guided me to the two best choices. One was a 1967 Marlboro Maroon Coupe with a black interior and a 300 horsepower 327 small block with a 4 speed manual transmission. I liked the color because I painted my ’51 Chevy Honduras Maroon back in 1961, and I always liked that color. The second choice was a Rally Red 1967 Corvette convertible with a black interior and a 350 horsepower 327engine and a 4 speed manual transmission. This car had air conditioning, and I thought my wife would enjoy riding in air conditioned comfort. She has always had hay fever and I thought it would be more comfortable for her. I was about to take the Maroon Coupe out for a test drive, when one of the guys who worked there, took me aside and told me all the things that was wrong with it. He told me that the Rally Red convertible was a better choice. I took the Rally Red convertible out and drove it around and liked it very much. When I returned the car, I found a wallet tucked in between the driver’s seat and the console. It belonged to one of the mechanics there who was using this car as his summer driver. I negotiated a deal with the owner and we settled on a price. I needed to borrow the money from our bank, so that was the next hurdle to jump over.
A few days later, the loan was given, and I drove over to the shop where the car was. I told the owner of the shop that I was not happy with the black convertible top, so he threw in a new white convertible top with the deal.
I was a happy camper, and could not wait to show off the new purchase. I drove it home and the whole family hopped in. The kids were small enough to fit in the compartment behind the seats that the convertible top is stored in when it was down, and off we go. We drove around our neighborhood, and the longer we drove the car, the worse it ran. We barely made it home, and the excitement of owning a mid-year Corvette was wearing thin! I was always a “gear head” so I thought I could diagnose the problem. After a complete tune-up and good inspection of the engine and all the parts under the hood, all was well and it ran like a scalded rabbit! Getting the title from the state of Illinois was another issue. It took the better part of six months to finally obtain a clear Illinois title. I traced the car’s origin to a dealer in Leeds, Alabama- Hufstatler Chevrolet. I found out the car was built in St. Louis on March 4, 1967. I also found out that the Chevrolet dealer replaced the original engine with a warranty 350 Horsepower 327 engine. While tracing down the history of the car, I discovered that this car was one of 326 cars that was built with A/C. The rest of the car was all original.
out about a fellow, Richard Buxbaum, who was selling Corvettes, and he had a warehouse full of them in Lombard, Il. Further investigation revealed the shop was behind a Good Year tire store on Roosevelt Rd. I found the store and drove around the rear and sure enough there was the warehouse, and yes he had 20-25 Corvettes of all years inside. I walked around the warehouse and picked out 3 or 4 favorites. I really didn’t know what I wanted, and picked cars that looked cosmetically appealing. I later found out that was not the way to choose a Corvette. There was a few guys there that guided me to the two best choices. One was a 1967 Marlboro Maroon Coupe with a black interior and a 300 horsepower 327 small block with a 4 speed manual transmission. I liked the color because I painted my ’51 Chevy Honduras Maroon back in 1961, and I always liked that color. The second choice was a Rally Red 1967 Corvette convertible with a black interior and a 350 horsepower 327engine and a 4 speed manual transmission. This car had air conditioning, and I thought my wife would enjoy riding in air conditioned comfort. She has always had hay fever and I thought it would be more comfortable for her. I was about to take the Maroon Coupe out for a test drive, when one of the guys who worked there, took me aside and told me all the things that was wrong with it. He told me that the Rally Red convertible was a better choice. I took the Rally Red convertible out and drove it around and liked it very much. When I returned the car, I found a wallet tucked in between the driver’s seat and the console. It belonged to one of the mechanics there who was using this car as his summer driver. I negotiated a deal with the owner and we settled on a price. I needed to borrow the money from our bank, so that was the next hurdle to jump over.
A few days later, the loan was given, and I drove over to the shop where the car was. I told the owner of the shop that I was not happy with the black convertible top, so he threw in a new white convertible top with the deal.
I was a happy camper, and could not wait to show off the new purchase. I drove it home and the whole family hopped in. The kids were small enough to fit in the compartment behind the seats that the convertible top is stored in when it was down, and off we go. We drove around our neighborhood, and the longer we drove the car, the worse it ran. We barely made it home, and the excitement of owning a mid-year Corvette was wearing thin! I was always a “gear head” so I thought I could diagnose the problem. After a complete tune-up and good inspection of the engine and all the parts under the hood, all was well and it ran like a scalded rabbit! Getting the title from the state of Illinois was another issue. It took the better part of six months to finally obtain a clear Illinois title. I traced the car’s origin to a dealer in Leeds, Alabama- Hufstatler Chevrolet. I found out the car was built in St. Louis on March 4, 1967. I also found out that the Chevrolet dealer replaced the original engine with a warranty 350 Horsepower 327 engine. While tracing down the history of the car, I discovered that this car was one of 326 cars that was built with A/C. The rest of the car was all original.
Over the years I replaced a lot of the parts that were wearing out, and enjoyed working on that car. We took many wonderful trips all over the USA in that car and many memories were made as we travelled the highways of
America. Many trips to Bloomington Gold shows and some NCRS road trips which included a road trip with the North Central N.C.R.S. group from Albert Lea MN, to Steamboat Springs, CO. That was a memorable trip, not so much for the trip out there with other Corvettes, but for the trip home from the Convention. The last day of the Convention, I was looking at the map to see if we could take a different route through the Rocky Mountains going home than we took getting to Steamboat Springs. I discovered a different road, and it looked like Rt. 14, through the mountains was a better choice. We took Rt. 40 going east, then turned north onto Rt. 14. We drove along enjoying the beautiful mountain scenery, then we came upon a woman standing in the middle of the road next to
her Suburban. We stopped and she told us that she had 150 head of Cattle that she was moving from high pasture to the low pasture. She instructed me to stop and let the cattle go by and no damage would occur to our nice car. Out there all the cattle are what they call “free range,” and are not fenced in, so the cowboys herd them together and drive them along the roads to wherever they want them to be. Well, here we were in the middle of the road, with a red car and 150 head of longhorn cattle! As they moved along the highway, they brushed against
the car, and I was petrified, but my wife was laughing hysterically and snapping pictures like mad! As the end of the herd passed by, the cowboys on horseback were laughing too. I was finally able to continue on my way. All too soon, we found out what the cowboys were laughing about! The cattle had left their manure all over the highway, and we were driving through it at 60 mph!! I pulled off the road as soon as we saw a gas station and got out and looked at the car. I was shocked to see cow shit all over the sides from the door handle to the rocker panels and the wheels and wheel wells were caked with cow shit 2 inches deep!!! Now remember that 1995 was the hottest summer on record, and that didn’t help the situation. Where we were in Colorado the temperature was 104 degrees! I rinsed off what I could with the hose that the gas station attendant let me use, but it was drying on the car and the hose was ineffective. I had to find a pressure wash somewhere soon! We travelled about 30 miles on Rt. 14 to a town called Walden. Surely they had a car wash there. Luckily there was a car wash with a pressure washer that I could use to blast off all the cow shit. It was a very smelly job, and to this day, I can still smell how bad it was. It took 30 minutes to get all of it off the car, and we continued on our way. We made it to North Platte, Nebraska that first day, and when we pulled in the hotel parking lot you could still smell the cow shit. Obviously, I had not gotten all the shit off the suspension and the underside of the car. It wouldn’t be until we got home and I jacked up the car and put it on jack stands and removed all 4 wheels and pressure washed the entire under carriage and suspension that all of the shit and smell was removed. I remember pressure washing it 4 times before the smell was gone!
America. Many trips to Bloomington Gold shows and some NCRS road trips which included a road trip with the North Central N.C.R.S. group from Albert Lea MN, to Steamboat Springs, CO. That was a memorable trip, not so much for the trip out there with other Corvettes, but for the trip home from the Convention. The last day of the Convention, I was looking at the map to see if we could take a different route through the Rocky Mountains going home than we took getting to Steamboat Springs. I discovered a different road, and it looked like Rt. 14, through the mountains was a better choice. We took Rt. 40 going east, then turned north onto Rt. 14. We drove along enjoying the beautiful mountain scenery, then we came upon a woman standing in the middle of the road next to
her Suburban. We stopped and she told us that she had 150 head of Cattle that she was moving from high pasture to the low pasture. She instructed me to stop and let the cattle go by and no damage would occur to our nice car. Out there all the cattle are what they call “free range,” and are not fenced in, so the cowboys herd them together and drive them along the roads to wherever they want them to be. Well, here we were in the middle of the road, with a red car and 150 head of longhorn cattle! As they moved along the highway, they brushed against
the car, and I was petrified, but my wife was laughing hysterically and snapping pictures like mad! As the end of the herd passed by, the cowboys on horseback were laughing too. I was finally able to continue on my way. All too soon, we found out what the cowboys were laughing about! The cattle had left their manure all over the highway, and we were driving through it at 60 mph!! I pulled off the road as soon as we saw a gas station and got out and looked at the car. I was shocked to see cow shit all over the sides from the door handle to the rocker panels and the wheels and wheel wells were caked with cow shit 2 inches deep!!! Now remember that 1995 was the hottest summer on record, and that didn’t help the situation. Where we were in Colorado the temperature was 104 degrees! I rinsed off what I could with the hose that the gas station attendant let me use, but it was drying on the car and the hose was ineffective. I had to find a pressure wash somewhere soon! We travelled about 30 miles on Rt. 14 to a town called Walden. Surely they had a car wash there. Luckily there was a car wash with a pressure washer that I could use to blast off all the cow shit. It was a very smelly job, and to this day, I can still smell how bad it was. It took 30 minutes to get all of it off the car, and we continued on our way. We made it to North Platte, Nebraska that first day, and when we pulled in the hotel parking lot you could still smell the cow shit. Obviously, I had not gotten all the shit off the suspension and the underside of the car. It wouldn’t be until we got home and I jacked up the car and put it on jack stands and removed all 4 wheels and pressure washed the entire under carriage and suspension that all of the shit and smell was removed. I remember pressure washing it 4 times before the smell was gone!
The next year we went to the N.C.R.S. Convention in St. Paul, MN
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In 2003 we went to the 50th Anniversary of the Corvette event held in Nashville and it too was a very enjoyable trip, mainly because we went with our friends Lenny and Sue, Bob and Earl, and Ron.
As the years went past, the need to sell it became a non issue. Our boys graduated college, and we still had the car. In fact, in 1980 we ordered a new Corvette and it was delivered on Feb. 10, 1981—our oldest son’s birthday. Now we were a 2 Corvette family. We drove both cars to many events including parades, picnics, and Corvette events. One summer in June, 2004, at the Bloomington Gold Corvette show, a fellow from Texas saw the 1967 and offered me a boatload of money for it. I sold the car on the spot and that really made our 2 sons angry.
Instead of taking a company car I opted to buy my own so bought a 1979 Impala and that was the workhorse for a few years.
After that we owned a 1984 Monte Carlo SS.
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Then it was an 1986 Monte Carlo SS.
We thought we'd try a 1985 Celebrity Eurosport station wagon since we like the '74 Chevelle wagon so much, but we took it on a vacation to Cherokee Village, AK once and traded it for the 1969 Camaro.
For a short time we owned a 1969 Camaro, which my wife called "The Rodney Dangerfield car" because of the black and white hounds tooth interior.
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When my mom died we inherited a 1929 Model A Ford Shay reproduction and enjoyed the smiles it brought to passersby when we blew the aooga horn. The whole family went to pick it up in Battle Creek, MI and the first thing I did was take off the governor from the engine.
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By the time the boys were in college they needed a vehicle to get to and from school so we bought a S15 truck from our friend Earl, who bought a new Corvette.
We bought a 2003 Suburban. We liked it so much we bought a 2008. We liked that so much we bought a 2012.
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The purchasing of the 2012 Suburban was quite an event. We bought it from a dealer in Freeport, but wanted to pick it up from a dealer north of Milwaukee, WI. I didn't want some car jockey driving it several hundred miles the first time out so my wife and I head up to the Milwaukee area to pick it up in a loaner car. We got stuck in a traffic jam on the outskirts of Milwaukee. We had the GPS, the maps the dealer gave us and were in a new Impala. All the time my wife kept saying, "I'll never be able to follow you back in this traffic!" We arrive at the dealer and by that time it was too late to head back to Freeport because that dealer would be closed by the time we got back so they told us to just bring the new Suburban and loaner car up in the morning and we'd settle the deal. We stopped for dinner and let the traffic clear. We got the maps out and decided to head back out of the area going west on the back roads first. It was a nice relaxing ride. We were going right by our older son's home so decided to stop in and show him the new Suburban. My wife was following in the Impala. By that time it was dark out and visited a few minutes and headed on home back to Sandwich because my wife had a hair appointment in the morning or we could have spent the night. We left the loaner new Impala at our son's house because it was right on the way to the dealer. My wife goes to her hair appointment the next morning and she realizes her wallet is missing. We look all over and couldn't find it. We head back up to pick up the loaner car and she looks inside and still no wallet. She gets in the car and starts feeling around and she found her wallet tucked in the crease of the passenger seat. She had her wallet laying there in case she had to pay a toll, the walkie talkie to talk to me and her phone because our son kept calling to find out where in the heck we were. At our son's she gathered up all her things and she must have missed the wallet. She was so relieved she found her wallet I could have bought another Corvette and she wouldn't have said a word!