My dad was an old school body man (enjoyed working with lead more than bondo), so I grew up loving muscle cars.
When I was 15, my dad gave me a 37' Plymouth 2 door coupe that had a straight 8 in it. Needed a complete resto, but it rocked. As luck would have it, my mom was bitter about the cars he aquired and punished me by selling it for $1,000 to some random guy that stopped by when dad and I were gone.
1929 ford, 1949 mercury, 1962 t bird...and the list goes on and on.
Now...pretty much down to my baby!
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