The Shelby American (Winter 2021)

Growing up, my parents always told me that I could have any car in the world I wanted when I turned 16…as long as I bought it myself. Yes, they told me to buy my own car, buy my own gas, and buy my own insurance. Figure it out kid! They would not be of- fering any financial assistance: it was all on me if I wanted a car. That meant I had to accept any odd job that came my way. At the age of 10, when not at school, I was working at the local trap shooting club and by age 14 I was putting in nearly 40 hours a week and still keeping a 4.0 grade point average at school. Auto Trader , Nickel Ads , Shopper Ads , and local newspaper ads were the primary way of selling anything and were an important avenue to finding local vehicles for sale. My Dad and I would religiously scan all of the ads as soon as they came out.We knew which stores were the first to receive the ads and we would be there to snatch them up to find the “deals” as soon as they were delivered. Then it was a series of phone calls and appointments. We would drive all over Oregon chasing “deals.” The majority were 1960s and 1970s Fords. My first car was a 1968 Ranchero with a 302 and a 4-speed. Some work was required but not as much as should have been. What we enjoyed was the thrill of the hunt. The next “deal” was always more exciting than the last. More fun than actually work- ing on the cars. My next car was a 1968 Torino GT S-code 390 convert- ible. In hindsight, my reach exceeded my grasp but I didn’t realize it at the time. It needed a lot of work and re- sources I didn’t have at that age. Then came a 1964 Galaxie which actually became my high school driver. Several other cars came along as well…. big dreams for a 16-year-old kid. I had 6 cars in the yard and my parents thought when they said I had to buy my own car I would barely be able to afford one. That backfired a lit- tle. I was officially hooked on old Fords and have never been able to recover. While I was constantly scouring the Auto Trader every week, I dreamed that maybe one day I could get a Shelby. The year was 1998 and a Shelby could be bought out of an Auto Trader for roughly $30,000 plus or minus. I did the math in the my head: 4 years of high school, then 4 years of college, and a couple years of work and I should have no problem buying a Shelby. This was just before auctions became popular on TV and car prices sky-rocketed correspondingly. In addition to local shopper ads, we also attended as many West Coast swap meets as we could. This included several trips to Washington and Cali- fornia each year. The yearly trips to the large Turlock, California swap meet with my Dad and friends Eldon Stutz and Mike Schaeffer was always great fun and full of unforgettable memories. Our planned wrecking yard stops on the way down and back were some of the greatest times I had as a youth. Memories were made in the wrecking yard; finding rare Ford parts was my favorite pastime (yes, I am re- ally that guy…. there is no cure for the car sickness). Like laying under an Econoline van to pull a 9-inch rear end in 10° weather in Klamath Falls, Ore- gon. These are things I will never for- get. Was it really worth it? It was cold! That passion soon grew to consume what seemed like every moment in my life. I was always looking, always buy- ing and selling, always searching eBay, going to car shows or drag races and always reading magazines. I dis- covered a local car club, The Silverton Flywheels. It was a great group of car guys just like my Dad and I. We fit right in and made many longtime friends in that club. They were very welcoming and had a huge impact on my life. They were a fun group of peo- ple who liked to drive their cars all over the state. It was exactly what my Dad and I needed to fuel our passion. Not to mention the massive number of friends that I made at all of those swap meets. They were always encour- aging me to keep looking for that The SHELBY AMERICAN Winter 20210 58 Dad’s ‘67 Mustang [ left ] scared me initially, but we quickly became friends. First day of school in my junior year [ center ]. The Galaxie was the only one that ran. My first ‘65 Mustang [ right ] wasn’t much to look at but you have to start somewhere. Packed up and heading off to another swap meet [ left ] with help from my yellow lab, George. My ‘66 Mustang [ center ] was as close as I got to a Shelby at that point, and a lot of Shelby parts found their way onto that car. Our first SAAC convention was at Sonoma.