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with big block cars. If I went the mod-
ified route, I’d be racing against 10-
second Volkswagens. I guess I didn’t
understand that you had to “cross the
palm” of the guy at the gate – the guy
with the white shoe polish. I finally
“retired” from racing when a girl in a
383 Road Runner kept beating me. I
could beat anyone off the line, but the
car would run out of steam halfway
down the track – right in front of the
grandstands – as the Road Runner
girl passed me. The announcer
laughed into the loudspeaker, saying
something about the “Little Engine
That Couldn’t.”
In 1970, the “U” in Miami was our
new home. The Shelby became the fa-
vorite ride to the beach (after class, of
course) with surfboard racks on top. It
never bothered us that with only four
gears, it would be taching 3500 rpm @
65 mph. Who needs a radio when
you’ve got side pipes? Fuel economy
referred to the price of gas (35¢ a gal-
lon), not miles per gallon.
Bonnie and I were married in the
summer of 1973, back in Maryland.
We bought an El Camino to pull our
camper and to make the 1,100-mile
trip back to Miami. The Shelby was
semi-retired or, as they say, rode hard
and put away wet. It spent the next
couple of years in my parents’ drive-
way or alongside the barn on a friend’s
farm. We would start it and talk about
“old” times while sitting in it, but we
couldn’t drive it because the tags were
dead and we couldn’t afford the insur-
ance to get them renewed.
The SHELBY AMERICAN
Fall 2016 29
When you own the same car almost forever, it plays a central role in your life. Or lives.
As Kevin and Bonnie moved through their lives 6S2186 was never very far away: the
prom in 1970 [
above left
], attending a friend’s wedding in November, 1971 [
left
] and at
the University of Miami in 1971 [
above
].
The inescapable before-and-after photos, thirty-two years apart.