Debbie Powell was kind enough to get me salivating about hot cars and the women that go with them. I was fortunate enough to have several cars during the JHS years, my Jupiter Old Days. I was lucky enough to buy a 67 Ford Mustang that Sparky Smith (my best man at my first wedding, R.I.P.). He had painted it a sorta metallic aqua and I loved that car. It was quick and had a 3 speed 287 in it. But I rear-ended Debbie Burgs Camaro when she hit the car in front of her in a multi-car pile up coming home from the skating rink on 25th street one night. I got it fixed and then, after taking Chris Schmidt to prom in it, some lady crossed three lanes of traffic up in Martin County and I wasnt able to stop in time, causing more damage to the Mustang then I was able to afford to fix. After a series of filler cars (provided by my dad whose intention was definitely not to provide me with a car, hence the ugly station wagons he bought), I purchased Wayne Bibeaus 68 Pontiac Firebird from him for $800 (pictured below) He did not want to sell it, but I think his mother persuaded him. It was originally a nice grey but the Florida sun (and my dedication to never waxing a car because of laziness) changed it into the shit grey color as John Gallina so eloquently described it. It was EXTREMELY fast. with 400 cubic inches and 335 horses, going zero to 60 in less than 8 seconds (according to GM specs). I think Wayne had taken very good care of the engine. I did not lose a race (beating Perry Rohwellers 69 Firebird drag racing on Yacht Club PL), ever. And those that rode with me (McCue, Galina, the Norchs, Sandy Crockett, Lisa Love and the rest of the gang) can remember me taking one of my dads beer taps and replacing the 4 speed manual gear shift level. So classy! I ran it ragged, let my brother Eric Bressler sit on my lap after a elementary school field trip and drive it past 100 mph on Donald Ross Road heading out to the Heights. It lost some of its get up and go when I outran a NPB cop after a night at Corkys Pizza, burying the speedometer (160 mph) heading north on US 1. He couldnt keep up and I eluded whatever Jupiter Police he called (maybe Sgt Reichert knew it was me by the description and sent his cruiser some other way to save me from trouble) by coasting over the US 1 bridge and parking behind the truck stop and its Diesel repair shop (now the kitchen at Shipwreck Bar & Grill). But before I turned off the engine, it was making this clicking sound). I hid out at the Truck Stop for an hour, and went out to the car to go home and found it would not turn over. After getting it towed the next day to my mechanic, I discovered that I had broken some rods, and cracked the head. It was repaired and still was fast, but never had that speed again. I lent it to a buddy one night so I could use his 71 Camaro with AC to go see Michelle Adnot at FAU; my roommate, the late David Wakefield (R.I.P. buddy), convinced him to let him drive it, and David lost control heading toward Tequesta from the Girl Scout camp on CC Drive, wrapping it around a telephone pole on the big curve. (I believe this is where Bill Taylor also wrecked his motorcycle). It was quite the total sight. The next day when I returned, I took a photo of it and it was printed in that weeks edition of The Beacon News. I clipped it and sent it to Kat Thornton without a caption, and she of course thought it was me that got in a wreck). Davids mother, Sandra Wakefield offered to give me $600 for the damage, but I declined saying that she was not responsible for Davids actions. I was just glad he and our friend survived, as the car was truly crushed sideways. I walked for a long time around town before my dad sold me his 71 Chevy Impala. I had one more nice car, my first and only Vette, a 69 T-top that Bill Blocker checked out for me before I bought it. It was not as fast as the Firebird, and had an automatic transmission, which I hated. (It did burn rubber when it shifted from 1st to 2nd if you floored it though, heh). I bought it to impress Patti Dwyer when she was returning home from her first year at Notre Dame. (It impressed her so much she broke up with me, wise woman). I had to sell it after marrying Janice Evans Frederick. No one would sell me insurance anymore as she was 16 when we got married. Before I traded it in on a sporty Datsun fastback, she would connive to drive it against my orders LOL so I used to pull the main wire. She would have McCue just put it back on and thered she go!!! Thats the conclusion of my JOD favorite car story. Hope some enjoyed the memories of the names and situations brought up.
Posted on: Thu, 21 Aug 2014 14:46:45 +0000
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