maveRick
05-24-2002, 01:17 AM
A RED 1963 Ford Fairlane Station Wagon.
http://www.fairlaneclubofamerica.com/Media/n63fswre.JPG (photo courtesy of www.fairlaneclubofamerica.com)
My first memory of this car was an incident a child wouldn't forget - not in 40 years!
The family and gear was all loaded up (Mom had only dispensed seven kids at that time) and ready to spend the weekend at my Mom's Mom's.
I remember my dad had just bought the car and, being a True-Blue Ford Man, was very proud of his recent purchase. Looking back, I'm sure he thought, "It's red. It's a Ford. It's got a V8. I'll take it."
Years later I would learn that even though my dad had a big family, he never got hot-rodding out of his blood. Thus the RED color to our Ford station wagon.
I can't be certain of what engine it had in it, but I'm guessing the fender had a "V8" emblem on it.
Anyway, my memory leads me to the point where we got off the gravel road and we start our mini-Indy through the Louisiana thickets on an old worn-out 'highway'. A 'highway' meant that the state had laid a 2" layer of asphalt over an existing gravel road.
The way I remember it, we were hauling ass to get to Gramma's (didn't know why - didn't care - hell, I was only 5 years old). Something was said between Dad and Mom because I remember her being pissed at my dad - for what? The sound of asphalt and gravel hitting the undercarriage of the car had gotten on my mom's nerves. I can remember my mom swaying back and forth to resist the g's my dad had put his NEW RED FORD into. And my mom bouncing up and down and left and right then looking at Dad with a concerned (not curious) and pissed look and said, "What's that noise?". She knew all that hauling ass was going to lead to no good!
Ford Man Dad told her that he didn't hear a thing (Dad was cool) :).
A short time had passed and I'd noticed we'd slowed down - not stopped - just slowed down some. I assumed we were almost there (in retrospect, it was Dad who was 'hearing things' by then, I'm sure).
We top over the final hill (a big bump) and hit the nice levy road - only a few more miles to go now. "And DOWN the stretch they come!"
"LOOK OUT DUB-YA!!" (Walter Andrew Book was my father's name, but he went by his initials - it took me 'till I was ten or twelve to figure that one out). Mom points to a wheel rolling along the left side of the car - rolling just a little faster than us.
My dad, curiously looks at the wheel. I curiously look at the wheel. I know I was young, but that's not something a 5-year old normally sees.
We're the only car on the road and from nowhere a TIRE is rolling along side us????
What seemed like a minute, but am sure now it was seconds, the light went off in Dad's head, "SHIT!! THAT'S MY WHEEL!"
Not one to panic, my dad immediately stands on the brakes (well, what would YOU do?). Those three skinny-assed tires grabbed the asphalt with a death-grip that would not be denied.
The next thing I can remember is about 4 or 5 of us (Mom stayed inside) were outside the car staring at the empty front left wheel well - and the car is BALANCED ON THREE WHEELS! THIS has to be the kernel of my first memory of our first family car.
I guess the wheel thought 'enough was enough' and decided to bug out.
I can remember my dad putting 'a' tire back on. I don't know if was the one that got away or if it was the spare.
I think I must have taken a nap in my mom's lap in the heat of the day. The next thing I remember we were at Gramma's and Mom was telling her the story of what happened and laughing a lot - I didn’t like that.
I went outside and held on to Dad's pant leg while he showed off 'our' NEW RED FORD to all my cousins, aunts, uncles and anyone else that would listen.
Hmmmm....now that I think about it, I don't think he gave anyone a ride in it that weekend..??
http://www.fairlaneclubofamerica.com/Media/n63fswre.JPG (photo courtesy of www.fairlaneclubofamerica.com)
My first memory of this car was an incident a child wouldn't forget - not in 40 years!
The family and gear was all loaded up (Mom had only dispensed seven kids at that time) and ready to spend the weekend at my Mom's Mom's.
I remember my dad had just bought the car and, being a True-Blue Ford Man, was very proud of his recent purchase. Looking back, I'm sure he thought, "It's red. It's a Ford. It's got a V8. I'll take it."
Years later I would learn that even though my dad had a big family, he never got hot-rodding out of his blood. Thus the RED color to our Ford station wagon.
I can't be certain of what engine it had in it, but I'm guessing the fender had a "V8" emblem on it.
Anyway, my memory leads me to the point where we got off the gravel road and we start our mini-Indy through the Louisiana thickets on an old worn-out 'highway'. A 'highway' meant that the state had laid a 2" layer of asphalt over an existing gravel road.
The way I remember it, we were hauling ass to get to Gramma's (didn't know why - didn't care - hell, I was only 5 years old). Something was said between Dad and Mom because I remember her being pissed at my dad - for what? The sound of asphalt and gravel hitting the undercarriage of the car had gotten on my mom's nerves. I can remember my mom swaying back and forth to resist the g's my dad had put his NEW RED FORD into. And my mom bouncing up and down and left and right then looking at Dad with a concerned (not curious) and pissed look and said, "What's that noise?". She knew all that hauling ass was going to lead to no good!
Ford Man Dad told her that he didn't hear a thing (Dad was cool) :).
A short time had passed and I'd noticed we'd slowed down - not stopped - just slowed down some. I assumed we were almost there (in retrospect, it was Dad who was 'hearing things' by then, I'm sure).
We top over the final hill (a big bump) and hit the nice levy road - only a few more miles to go now. "And DOWN the stretch they come!"
"LOOK OUT DUB-YA!!" (Walter Andrew Book was my father's name, but he went by his initials - it took me 'till I was ten or twelve to figure that one out). Mom points to a wheel rolling along the left side of the car - rolling just a little faster than us.
My dad, curiously looks at the wheel. I curiously look at the wheel. I know I was young, but that's not something a 5-year old normally sees.
We're the only car on the road and from nowhere a TIRE is rolling along side us????
What seemed like a minute, but am sure now it was seconds, the light went off in Dad's head, "SHIT!! THAT'S MY WHEEL!"
Not one to panic, my dad immediately stands on the brakes (well, what would YOU do?). Those three skinny-assed tires grabbed the asphalt with a death-grip that would not be denied.
The next thing I can remember is about 4 or 5 of us (Mom stayed inside) were outside the car staring at the empty front left wheel well - and the car is BALANCED ON THREE WHEELS! THIS has to be the kernel of my first memory of our first family car.
I guess the wheel thought 'enough was enough' and decided to bug out.
I can remember my dad putting 'a' tire back on. I don't know if was the one that got away or if it was the spare.
I think I must have taken a nap in my mom's lap in the heat of the day. The next thing I remember we were at Gramma's and Mom was telling her the story of what happened and laughing a lot - I didn’t like that.
I went outside and held on to Dad's pant leg while he showed off 'our' NEW RED FORD to all my cousins, aunts, uncles and anyone else that would listen.
Hmmmm....now that I think about it, I don't think he gave anyone a ride in it that weekend..??