We All Gotta Start Somewhere

I received a few emails last week from readers regarding the post on how they learned their old school. Numerous stories were shared about learning the ropes from a relative, or perhaps from a high school program, or after they joined the military service, or as one loyal reader named Tom put it, "... the hardest way possible; starting my automotive career when I was 18 in an auto parts store." I think that story won the grand prize. Tom enrolled (and did rather well) in a vocational high school automotive program and wrenched on his personal 1973 Ford Torino. Like all of us at the tender age of 18, Tom knew it all. Unfortunately, within about six months, he realized he knew squat, even though he was fairly well versed with '73 Torino's. Tom was fortunate enough, however, that more than a few visitors to that particular parts store were kind enough to educate him, as was the store manager. Tom was taken under several wings, and over the course of his 20's became a master parts specialist. He now owns four auto parts stores in the southern New Hampshire.

We all have to start somewhere. I can remember when my cousin Bobby got bit by the drag racing bug pretty hard in the early 70's. His personal ride was a 1968 GTO with a stoutly modified 400ci V-8. On one particular Friday evening - the night before hitting the drag strip - he got hung up modifying the Hurst 4-speed. The necessary parts would not be available for a few days. Remember, this was before every auto parts store or speed shop was open seven days a week and overnight delivery was unheard of.

Enter my Aunt Bea and her 1968 Chrysler 300. A beautiful maroon 2-door land barge optioned with the famed 375 horsepower 440 Magnum engine and bullet proof 727 Torque-Flite automatic. My aunt was the black sheep of the family back then and that's probably one reason why we thought she was so cool. However, she dreaded going to get the car serviced and on this particular weekend, the vehicle needed new tires. Bobby hatched up a cool plan - he offered to take my aunt's vehicle to have it serviced for her (for which she was thrilled) and then drop by Englishtown raceway in New Jersey, which was only a few miles away, for a hot lap or two. You see, my cousin Bobby was not an idiot. He knew the potential of that 440 Magnum. It was only docile around town, but could be a real animal in the right situation. The 300 would be a "good-enough" substitute for his GTO.

Bobby took the 300 to his good friends garage (which was right near the drag strip) where the oil was changed, chassis greased (they did things like that back then) and two new tires were installed up front that he picked up at the local Sears store. His friends installed some wider 15" tires they had kicking around on the rear. The second part of the plan was to install the two other new tires on the rear after Bobby was done at the track. Why leave incriminating evidence that would be found later on? While the 300 was at the garage, Bobby's friends also disconnected the A/C belt, installed a hot coil, better spark plugs and wires, and an open air cleaner.. all in a matter of less than 30 minutes. They also adjusted the timing so the 440 ran like a Swiss watch. It wasn't deemed to touch the rest of the drivetrain, because my aunt's 300 came from the factory with a sure-grip rear end and 3.23 gears.

All was good until Bobby lined up in the staging lanes. While he was decent at being a lead-foot, he wasn't very good at drag racing. This was his first time racing and would soon learn that drag racing was not like the stoplight wars on the street. He was also used to how his 4-speed GTO handled in regards to leaving from a dead stop - not a honkin' Chrysler 300 with more overhang than the Atlantic City boardwalk. On his first attempt, the Christmas Tree light turned green and instinctively just mashed the throttle - why not; no clutch to worry about. All he did, was light up the rear tires in smoke with a huge burnout, and promptly went nowhere. His opponent in the other lane just took off. The 300 did finally hooked, and turned in a respectable mph, but a horrible E.T. (Picture at right is just for effect).

While his friends were falling off the grandstands from laughing so hard, another seasoned racer took his efforts to heart. He told him to get on the throttle just enough to get the car rolling quickly without all that tire spin, then apply more throttle very soon afterward for maximum torque. Bobby hung on his every word. His 2nd time in the staging lane, he remembered all the things this drag racer told him. Running it through step by step. The light turned green and it was a repeat of the time before. My cousin returned to the pits and the other drag racer chuckled, but gave him more words of encouragement - don't give up; it takes practice. In the long run, Bobby did get better at drag racing and was quite successful locally with his GTO. If you're wondering who that kind drag racer was, it was none other than cigar chomping "Dandy" Dick Landy.

I remember when I first started tinkering with cars over 40 years ago - I didn't even know where the engine oil went. By the time I was in my 30's, I could rebuild engines, knew how automotive systems worked, and was dabbling in auto body work. I can also remember the first company I worked for in regards to freelance writing. I went in applying for an intern (read: unpaid) position just to get my feet wet. Turns out, the owner of the company (and publisher for several on-line and print publications) liked my attitude and there's was a need for an automotive writer. Best part was, she would pay me. I sent her some writing samples to some "assignments" she gave me, and I haven't looked back since.

It's true we all have to start somewhere. But the other side of the coin is, who is going to step up and teach and/or mentor the young people who want to get into the automotive field and/or hot rodding? Like the wet behind the ears kid at the local auto parts store - when he or she hands you the wrong part, are you going to belittle them or scream at them, or are you going to throw them a "brain-wrench" and teach them something? We were all there at some point in our lives. We cannot forget where we came from.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave