As I sit here with the summer breeze blowing through the window, off in the distance I can hear a very distinct sound. I know exactly what it is. I can pick it out in a heart beat. The throaty, low, mellow gurgle of a 5.0 engine belonging to none other than the Ford Mustang. It’s mellifluous exhaust is distinctive of it’s V8 vigor associated with these cars. Corvettes, Camaros, Firebirds…they all have their own sound, but you can always tell it’s a Mustang.
When I was 6 or 7 years old, I decided on the way to school one day that I wanted a Mustang when I grew up. When my neighbor’s sister got a ’76 Mustang, I was just 15, I wondered if she would sell it to me when I reached my driving age of 17. When it went up for sale, I was drooling, but knew there was no way I could have it. I was only 16 at that time. Dad would not have a car just sitting around in our yard. It wasn’t that kind of neighborhood.
Fast forward 30 years. For the sake of nothing better to do, my husband and I and our two little boys went to a car show a couple towns away. It was Father’s Day. Off we went to the abandoned air field where this show was to be held. After parking, we went for the stroll down the rows of chrome and lead that glistened in a myriad of rainbow colors.
Now my husband had owned an ’81 Ford Mustang when we met. That since had given way to a Ford Ranger pickup and Ford Tempo…the mommy car. We also had a Ford Ranchero that also departed the family due to the fact that the people ( I use that term loosley…these were the kind of people that might have body parts in their refrigerator) called the police and told them there was an unregistered car in our driveway. So it had to go. So deep in our subconscious, there was a love of vintage cars.
After a couple hours of “ooooh” and “aahhhhh”‘s and “I knew someone who had one of those”, we had some hot dogs and headed home. I remember seeing in my travels around my town a Mustang sitting off to the side of the road amongst some brush and bushes. It had been there some time. It was almost engulfed completely by mother nature, but it’s nose poked out as to just to see the world go by and maybe say “hey, I’m here!” while it sat there unloved. I always saw it, but never made any intention of looking at it or even inquiring about it. I guess I just thought I couldn’t afford it or it was frivolous to even pursue the issue.
I was driving home from this car show and I remembered this car. I detoured from our normal route home. When my husband inquired, I told him I wanted to show him something. I wouldn’t tell him what it was, but just to be patient. As I approached the car, my husband got it. I pulled the car off the road onto the grassy shoulder just next to the car. We got out and looked her over through the weeds and tall grasses. it was a ’68 coupe, 6 cylinder automatic in faded aqua. She was in sad shape, but had great potential. She was covered with road dust, dirt and pollen. There was a phone number on a faded “For Sale” sign! It was for sale!!! We copied the number down, looked the car over once more and headed on our way.
To make a long story short, 10 years later she sits in our yard now with a cover over her. She’s got a new 302 motor along with numerous other parts and gadgets. She’s no concourse car, mostly a cruiser. She needs a good paint job and the steering is a little dodgy. But she’s our baby that was rescued from the side of the road after years of neglect. She gets put into the garage in the winter to stay warm. She gets taken to car shows and gets many pictures taken of her as well as “OH, I had one of these!”. Since then we’ve added to the corral, a ’66 and an ’88, but this will be the one we’ll always keep.
