My best friend, who saved my life when we served with the 119th Assault Helicopter Company in Vietnam, was a body shop mechanic by trade and a hot rod guru. After getting out of the service he bought 5 1933 Plymouths. He loved that car because his father had one when he was growing up. He had a 4-door sedan, a 2-door sedan, a 2-door roadster with a rumble seat, a convertible, and a pickup truck. He kept one for himself and gave one each to his wife, son, and 2 daughters. He did all the work himself to install Mustang running gear (souped-up V-8 engine, 4-speed transmission, front and rear suspension, cooling system, steering system, etc.). He then did all the body work and custom paint jobs. He drove one to my surprise 50th birthday party in Michigan. His Plymouths were truly works of art. He told me then that he was planning on taking his 1933 Plymouth to the Bonneville Salt Flats the next year and run it in class just for kicks-n-grins. He lived in Pittsburgh and would be passing by Chicago, where I lived, on his way to Bonneville. I begged him to let me be his helper and share the Bonneville experience with him. He gladly agreed. Unfortunately, god had other plans. My friend was killed riding his motorcycle to work 7 months before the scheduled Bonneville trip. Anytime I see anything about the Bonneville Salt Flats I remember him. I apologize to anyone who may be offended by my emotional posting.
Topic: Yes off topic buy you will really enjoy this (Read 1590 times)