RUN-INs WITH THE LAW

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Spike Morelli

Well-known member
Joined
Apr 12, 2015
Messages
900
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1,230
Location
Formerly Los Angeles, now Boise, Idaho
My Car
1971 Mustang Mach 1 ram air 351c H-code, fmx, ps,pb, medium yellow-gold, hubcaps and beauty rings.
SPIKE'S Story #1
I have several stories of run-ins with the law, thought I'd share a few here.
Back when I was just out of High School, I was crusing down Ventura Blvd around Noon in my '30 Ford A Coupe, and for reasons I don't remember today, I pulled a "U" turn in the middle of this 2 lanes each direction boulevard. As soon as I did so, I passed a police car going the other way...I was looking right at the cop, and he was looking right at me. For a moment, I was sure I was toast. I had a friend, Rick, with me in the car and I told Rick "Crap...hold on". Before the cop could turn around in opposing traffic, I dashed behind a Bank building and, just by the grace of God, found a hiding spot behind an 8' hedge behind the Bank. Rick and I bailed , cut through the Bank Lobby, and went into a McDonalds next to it. After grabbing lunch and lounging around sufficiently for danger to pass, we both started to walk across the McDonalds parking lot when, slowly a car fender was keeping pace with us. It was the cop. He told us to stop, and admitted he had no idea where we could have hidden that Model A, but we were going to get a ticket when he did find it. He didn't, 'cause we waited him out, and I retrieved the Coupe . Amazing that I got away with that. How do you out-maneuver a modern police car, and hide a tall vehicle behind a bush? Luck
 

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SPIKE'S Story #2
My second car was a '34 Ford, Chopped and Channeled, Hemi powered hot rod. One evening, while working at the gas station, I was tinkering on the hot rod. A group of guys were hangin' around and somone said " It looks fast, is it?" I told him "Just watch, I'm gonna go down the alley behind the apartments and pull out onto the boulevard in front here", " I'm gonna punch it, and by the time I pass the gas station, I'll be doing 100mph". That's exactly what I did, although never having done this before, I hadn't taken into consideration the traffic light on the other side of the freeway overpass ( next to the gas station), or the short distance to stop. So...I hauled freight past the gas station full throttle, at the same time passing a police car going the other way, started to go under the overpass, and, in a panic, tromped on the brakes, hoping to stop before the red light I wasn't ready for. Luckily, the light went green as I entered the intersection in a hard right turn, semi-sliding sideways, and I pulled into the Jake's Jug Liquor store parking lot behind an old fashioned train car styled "Diner". I jumped out of the Coupe, my heart pounding, scared to death at clearing the intersection against all odds. A split second later, I heard the patrol car fly through the intersection going straight, to chase me down, not even thinking anyone could have made a right turn at that speed. I idled back to the gas station and put the car away in a stall, had a smoke and a coke.
 

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Third Story, really happened,
I used to have a "66 Shelby GT-350. One New Years Eve, I was at a party, just over the hill , in Calabasas, just outside of the San Fernando Valley, where I lived. At this party, one of the guys there asked me " Is that your car outside?" I figured he meant the Shelby, being so different than everybody's, and told him it was mine, He asked me how fast it was, and I couldn't tell him, I don't drive like that and never had opened it up all the way. The evening continued on, and I had a few cocktails. When I left, I headed home on the freeway, yes, I had been at a party, but I felt in control, not really buzzed. It was about 1 or 2 in the morning. As I was driving along, I noticed there was nobody on the freeway so.....I opened the Shelby up. Slight "S" bends at speed took both hands, and I was really moving, The speedo read 120 on the straight wide open ,it was screaming around 6 to 6500 on the Tach. All of a sudden I caught a glimpse of red and blue rotating lights in my rear view mirror, way back behind me, but coming up fast. A pain shot through me....this was it....I'm going to jail, not just for speed, but I was sure they'd nail me about alchohol as well, and impound my Shelby. So I decelerated and quickly pulled over into the slow lane.....but I was traveling so fast, I hadn't realized that I had pulled over in front of a semi-truck and trailer to slow down. Moments later, the Highway Patrol shot right by, I guess they thought I was going to use the big truck as a sheild, and make a run for it. Just then, I was at an off-ramp, the Patrol car started to brake, but was past the ramp, I took all into account in a few split seconds, and I took the De Soto off ramp. The cops never got close enough, or had enough time to gey my plate. I turned right, on Ventura and there at the corner was a Winchel's DoNut Shop, open 24 hours. I was so pumped with adrenalin and kinda shaking ,after experiencing what had just happened, so I drove in and parked to go in, get a hot cup of coffee, settle down. I got the coffee, a donut, and sat down, right next to some cops! I didn't even realize they were there. Worse even, was the fact that I had parked the Shelby right between their two patrol cars! The next thing I know their radios start squawking about a pursuit, so they all jump up and get in their cars, and haul ass to find this rogue. I was RIGHT THERE! They could touch me! The car was RIGHT THERE!
Just as soon as they left, I got into the Shelby and quietly disappeared down back streets all the way home. I often wonder if one of those cops at the do-nut shop didn't realize a few minutes later.........hey.......wait a minute...
 
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SPIKE'S TRUE STORY #4
New Year's Eve again, some years later, I'm driving a '70 Olds 442 with a W-30 package, and I'm at another New Years Party, and yes , I had a "few". This time though, I'm in a neighborhood close to home, near my High School, on streets I know very well. On my way home, again around 1 or 2 in the morning, I'm driving the speed limit on a back neighborhood street, not doing anything wrong, when I passed what looked like a parked car, at the curb, hidden from the streetlight under a big tree. I just caught this out of the corner of my eye. As I passed and drove on, I looked in my side view mirror, and I saw the brake lights come on as he started the vehicle. I knew it! A cop, hiding, and guess who just drove past him....me. No one else was on the road, he had to be coming for me. SHIT! I continued one more block as he was turning around and made a hard left, down a rarely known, or used street, just a random little connector hardly nobody ever used. I turned my lights off and sped down the road in total darkness to a mid-block right turn that comes up fast. But I KNOW this area, the 442 really did handle well, and I had a friend who lived on this tucked away road, elsewise I'd never known about where it went. After the right turn I went maybe six houses and turned into some stranger's circular driveway, and as luck would hold, they had a hedge tall enough to mask my Olds. I flew in , stopped behind the hedge, killed the brake lights, and ducked. The Police flew by. I waited a few minutes, nobody was awoken at this house by me driving in, so I just got out of my car and, being that I was fairly close to home, I decided to walk home. This happened back when I was a singer in a band for a living, and wore a Pompadour hairstyle.
So......Maybe two blocks away from where I hid the 442, I'm walking along and a Police car comes flying up behind me and commands me to "Stop Right There". Two officers approach me, the younger one cuffs me, Man it was cold out too, and I calmly ask "what's this all about?". The older cop says " I know that was you, nobody around here right now looks like you...It's the hair" What? "I know it was you driving that white car" Just then , a second patrol car pulls up. The first cop tells them to look around for a white car somewhere. I asked the cop "What white car?" The white car YOU were driving, wise guy, we'll find it in a moment. I insisted I didn't have any white car. The older cop asked me to empty my pockets, and when he saw the GM keys on my keychain, he said " The white Olds these keys probably go to, ya think?" I had a silver-blue '65 Mustang GT Coupe and also had two Ford keys on the keychain, and the GT Coupe was parked at my parents house. I showed the cop the Ford keys and said "These are my keys, to my car, take me home and I'll prove it". The older Officer took me home in the back of his patrol car and, with my Ford keys, unlocked my Mustang, and checked the registration. He came back to the patrol car and we drove back, quietly to where they stopped me. Upon arriving at the corner, the other cops were hanging out, the Olds hadn't been located, and the older cop turned to me and told me "I think, by your breath, you may have been drinking as well, this evening". I reminded him that there is no law I knew of, outlawing drinking and walking. At that point, the younger cop heard that remark, was frustrated with things, and wanted to kick my ass. The older, wiser cop waved them all off, un-cuffed me and told me to walk home, but told me when they find my white Olds, knowing my house now, they'll come to arrest me later. I walked home, woke up my Dad, and before Dad could kill me, I explained the whole event. Dad got up, got dressed, and we drove to where I'd hid the white 442. Dad drove it home, I drove his car home. Dad didn't kill me, he just said "It's a wise man who will learn from his mistakes, got me?" Yeah boy, Love you Pop.
 

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SPIKE'S TRUE STORY #5
Again this happened way back in around '74-'76, I'm about 19 years old and I worked in a gas station. . My good friend Rick and I decided to tip some Scotch one night, late. We were at his older sister's house, again, really close to my parent's house. I left Rick's late, just going home on back streets. I got into my Model A, made it to the corner, maybe three houses away, and the red lights blast through my rear window. I pulled over. The Policeman walks up, puts the flashlight in my face, checks out what I'm driving, and says "What year is this?" Being a car guy, i don't hesitate to get right into it with him. I get out, show him the engine, do a walk around, tell him how original it is and on, and on. After about 15 minutes of yapping, the cop says, "I just stopped you to look at your car". I'm sitting back in the car now, and I start the engine. The cop leans up to the window and asks me, "You seem OK, but have you been drinking?". "Uh, yeah, just a little, sir" "Do you live close?" Yes "Can you stick to the back streets and stay off the boulevards?" Yes "OK, then drive safe and go straight home , OK? Nice car". Those days are long gone.
The photo shows my '30 after I modified her with a '32 Ford grille at a Model A Ford road rally.....
 

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Those stories remind me of a story when I was sixteen and I had owned my 73 Mach 1 for about two months. I was going to a party with my girl friend and had a case of beer in the back seat. I was speeding a little (10-15 over) and I passed a cop on the side of the road. I saw his lights come on in my rear view mirror. I hit the gas and raced down a side street and up an alley. I saw an small opening between garages in the alley. I hit the brakes and threw it in reverse and swooped backwards right in to the spot and killed the lights. We saw the cop's lights race down the side street right past the alley. After about fifteen minutes, We thought it was safe to go. I thought I better put the case of beer in the trunk before we left, in case we did get pulled over. I got out and went around to the trunk to find a huge oak tree about 1/2 inch from my rear bumper. Just by dumb luck, I had stopped in time to avoid wiping out the back of my Mach, I had no idea it was there when I backed up into the spot. As they say, "God looks out for children and fools" and at that point of my life I think I kind of qualified for both titles.
 
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SPIKE'S TRUE STORY #5
Again this happened way back in around '74-'76, I'm about 19 years old and I worked in a gas station. . My good friend Rick and I decided to tip some Scotch one night, late. We were at his older sister's house, again, really close to my parent's house. I left Rick's late, just going home on back streets. I got into my Model A, made it to the corner, maybe three houses away, and the red lights blast through my rear window. I pulled over. The Policeman walks up, puts the flashlight in my face, checks out what I'm driving, and says "What year is this?" Being a car guy, i don't hesitate to get right into it with him. I get out, show him the engine, do a walk around, tell him how original it is and on, and on. After about 15 minutes of yapping, the cop says, "I just stopped you to look at your car". I'm sitting back in the car now, and I start the engine. The cop leans up to the window and asks me, "You seem OK, but have you been drinking?". "Uh, yeah, just a little, sir" "Do you live close?" Yes "Can you stick to the back streets and stay off the boulevards?" Yes "OK, then drive safe and go straight home , OK? Nice car". Those days are long gone.
The photo shows my '30 after I modified her with a '32 Ford grille at a Model A Ford road rally.....
I only got away a few times but got caught most of the time. Back in the 70s the cops could pull you over for spot checks ( license and registration) between my 66 Chevy 2 and my 73 Mach 1 I was pulled over 68 times before losing count. I never got a ticket during the spot checks but I got plenty more when I did get caught speeding. Hell I got 2 tickets when I wasn’t they were picking on the car and must’ve had to reach their quota. The one time I did get away it was In a spectator way, I was racing a maverick and it was along race. The 1st part of the race would start out on a long flat road that was about a mile long. Then it would turn into a country road going over a small mountain with a lot of turns. After that it would go on flat country roads. The object of the race was to get to a well known damns parking lot first. The race was about 8 miles long , I blew the maverick away at the start of the race what we didn’t know was a cop was behind us as we drove the course going the opposite way scoping for cops. The cop pulled into the only driveway along the straightaway behind us. After getting the whole shot there was enough distance between us that the cop jumped out in between us and was going to chase me down. Long story short the cop lost it on the winding road part of the course and wrecked. I didn’t know about the cop chasing me until the maverick reached the parking lot and told me what happened. I left the area and stayed away for months . I verified it with some friends over the next couple of days to see if the other guy was bull crapping me. Well it was true and the only description they got was a small blue car. Another time as I look back was the most stupid thing I ever did. I got into a race with a Camaro on a main road. It was fall and the neighborhood must have gotten together and racked their leaves into a big pile in the slow lane. Of course I was in the slow lane and we were really getting it fender to fender. I was to hard headed to give up and slow down and cut in the lane behind the Camaro . I proceeded to pedal to the metal and ran through this huge pile of leaves. Fortunately for me there wasn’t a car parked under that pile of leaves and no kids were playing in it. I lost the race and to this day I count my blessings nothing horrific happened because of my total lack of common sense.
 
Your New Year's Eve stories remind me of one. It involves drinking and cops, but not breaking the law. This was about 10-15 years ago. I had a half day off on New Year's eve and I was kind of sad because I was not with family or friends. Back where I grew up this was a big party day. My wife was at work so I decided to hit the bottle of scotch, which is what I would be drinking back home. When my wife came home I was pretty toasted so we got ready to go out to a party. Back then my car was a 1994 4Runner. We decided to take my car, but with her driving. Keep in mind that it was very cold, probably about 10 degrees. To go to this party you had to drive along country roads in the middle of nowhere for about half hour. Long and behold, my car breaks down. I immediately know what happened. My fuel gauge was not working and I had forgotten to fill up. That meant we ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere on a very cold New Year's Eve at 9pm. Luck had it, that we just had gone past a gas station. So we were probably about 1/2 mile from it. We walked back and the store was closed but the pumps were open. I didn't have any containers. So after some dumpster diving I dog out two small plastic bottles of juice. I pour some gas first to clean the cans and then filled them up. We are walking along this road, pitch dark, with two bottles full of gas. A cop is passing by, looks at me, ask if all is good, I said yes, and he continued on his way without asking anything else. Got back to the car, empty the bottles and drove back to the gas station to fill out. By the time we got to the party I had sobered up and had this wonderful gasoline smell all over me. Looking back, someone was looking for us that day. At that temperature, the story would have been very different if we ran out of gas far away from a gas station.
 
I only had a few street races - mostly enjoyed cruising with the occasional burnout - nothing as exciting or risky as you guys have posted! I did get pulled over a few times, though.

My first car was a '56 Chevy 2-door hardtop that I did a frame off restoration. I had bought the car when I was 13 and spent 3 years rebuilding everything I could afford to on it. I had just got my license and was eager to get out on the local drag with the other cruisers. I was maybe past my first mile on the cruise when a police car lit up behind me. I pulled over wondering what the heck I had done! Turns out the cops where shoe box Chevy fans and just wanted to check out my car! Whew!

A year later, 1977, I bought my '72 convertible. A few days after buying it I was driving down the street from our house, went through a 90-degree turn on the street out of the neighborhood when I cop pulled me over. He said I was doing 35 mph through the turn and my exhaust was too loud (factory exhaust!). I tried to reason with him but he was having none of it. I went to court and the cop was a no-show. The judge said he'd drop the tickets/charges if I went to traffic survival school. Hmm. I went to the school.

The next time, I was at an intersection next to a GTO and did powerbrake burnout with lots of smoke. Cop was a few cars back in the line of cars. Light turned green and away we went for an 1/8th mile, or so. The cop caught up and pulled me over. Oh, crap! Seventeen with a six-pack of beer in the back seat. Caught red-handed. The cop approaches and asks if there is a problem with my car since he'd seen all the smoke. I explained, no, I was just smokin' the tires. He says not to do that anymore and tells me to have a nice day! I carefully drove the rest of the way home.

These days, after a career as a military aviator, I post-flight (reflect) on each motorcycle ride or drive and think what I could do better next ride. I apply this even when commuting to work or running to the store. I think I've become a better, wiser driver.
 
That old Model A that I had as my very first car, probably saved my life. For an 18 year old boy, if I had driven everyday, a more powerfull car, I may very well had gotten into speed related accidents. Another plus was that there was no power steering, mechanical brakes, no heater, and a off-road Jeep like ride. All of which demandedthat you physically steer the car, think ahead, as far as braking is concerned, and on winter nights, you were cold, even with a jacket...but I loved that car. It accelerated well for what it was, all of 40 Horsepower, but not so that you'd get in trouble. I had it up to 73 mph .Every young boy should be so lucky as to have a guardian angel looking after them. Mine happened to be Annie, my trusty, cherry, bitchin' 1930 Model A Coupe. Another plus, was that when my girlfriend drove places with me, she was right next to me,...that seat saw some action!.
I would drive the "A Bone" to many High School weekend partys, where, invariably, the cops would come at around ten o'clock and break it up. Marijuana was illegal back then, as is underage drinking and open container laws. Cops would many times screen the kids as they were driving away at the end of the block to check for this stuff. When I would pull up, they'd just wave me through. I mean, look at his car, this fine young man can't be a part of this rabble - rousing bunch of long- hairs driving their hopped up noisy cars! I never got stopped, and many times, other kids would put their "stash" in my Model A's trunk, so I could get the stuff past the cops, and meet the people at a different location so they could pick up their beer, wine, pot, whatever they had at the party. I was fairly popular with all of the cliques in High School as the guy who was untouchable by the cops. That Model A was Teflon.
Another plus, was that , they used to have random smog and safety checks, where cops would pull over groups of people just driving down the street, to check their emissions and such. Remember, this is California in the early Seventies.The cops always just waved me through. I did insist one time, because I was curious as to what the tailpipe reading would be. They hooked up to my tailpipe, I retarded the spark manually all the way , on the collumn, closed the idle, and reached over to the right to adjust the Mixture/choke rod to lean that baby out. The cops just laughed at the reading, it was so clean running. Even though, at some point, I also owned a Hot Rod, the Model A was my everyday car that I could drive evrywhere, and I did so for 11 years. I should never have sold her.
 
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SPIKE'S TRUE STORY #6
So, amongst a slew of cars that I've owned, was this '65 Mustang GT Hi-Po 289 Coupe. It was eventually, a very clean, perfect car, but it didn't start out that way. When I first bought it, it was an oil burning, thrashed out, Ill-maintained pile...but I only paid $300 for it, so it was worth the time to bring it back. Anyway.........I'd only had the thing maybe a week, still had the paper registration taped to the window, when, I took it to a club meeting. ( I used to be a member of the Gear Stretchers Car Club, in Los Angeles ). After the meeting, which ran late, a few of us went for coffee and pie at a local hang, and killed some more time. So now, it's late in the evening and I'm driving home. After a while, it occured that every time I came to a stoplight, there was this beat up, faded '67 Camaro on my left. Really? I drove on until the next stoplight , and there he was shadowing me, again, OK, time to stage. I took a good look at his Camaro and didn't feel so bad because the Camaro was just as big a pile as my car was. Not a straight section of metal on either car. We hunkered down at the red, this was a race. I saw his car lurch forward for a second and thought," he's power-braking an automatic", I've got a stick. I think we both red-lighted as we both jumped the light, oil smoke spitting from each of our clapped out car tailpipes. As we both shot into the intersection, I saw to my right, two Motor Cops on their Harleys leaning on their handlebars, watching us two idiots drag race right in front of them. They shot out after us and I pulled over immediately, the Camaro kept going. One Motor cop pulled in behind me as the other gave chase to the Camaro. My cop walked over to my window and asked me "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I told him the story about how I'd just bought the car and the Camaro was buggin me for a race, so I figured I'd see what the Mustang had. " Well, at least you're honest....My partner has your buddy stopped a few more blocks down" " He's not my buddy, I don't even know who he is"I told him. The cop ran my License, and after about ten minutes came back and handed it back to me. "I'm going to let you go with a warning. You stopped immediately and didn't try to bullshit me. That other guy is going to jail and getting his car impounded". I thanked him and asked him if they saw who was in front at the start. He laughed at me and said there was too much oil smoke to see clearly, and "Just go straight home". That could have been a bad ticket, but again, I walked away......
 

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SPIKE'S Story #1
I have several stories of run-ins with the law, thought I'd share a few here.
Back when I was just out of High School, I was crusing down Ventura Blvd around Noon in my '30 Ford A Coupe, and for reasons I don't remember today, I pulled a "U" turn in the middle of this 2 lanes each direction boulevard. As soon as I did so, I passed a police car going the other way...I was looking right at the cop, and he was looking right at me. For a moment, I was sure I was toast. I had a friend, Rick, with me in the car and I told Rick "Crap...hold on". Before the cop could turn around in opposing traffic, I dashed behind a Bank building and, just by the grace of God, found a hiding spot behind an 8' hedge behind the Bank. Rick and I bailed , cut through the Bank Lobby, and went into a McDonalds next to it. After grabbing lunch and lounging around sufficiently for danger to pass, we both started to walk across the McDonalds parking lot when, slowly a car fender was keeping pace with us. It was the cop. He told us to stop, and admitted he had no idea where we could have hidden that Model A, but we were going to get a ticket when he did find it. He didn't, 'cause we waited him out, and I retrieved the Coupe . Amazing that I got away with that. How do you out-maneuver a modern police car, and hide a tall vehicle behind a bush? Luck
Ventura Blvd, eh? I grew up in my teen years in Woodland Hills, CA, and spent a lot of time cruising up and down Ventura Blvd, Topanga Canyon Blvd, Van Nuys Blvd on Wednesday nights, and ripping through the various canyons. Early 70s, fun times. I still marvel that I lived past 19...
 
Yeah, those were the days. I was in the Gear Strethchers car club, ( still have the jacket and my car plaque), I was also in the San Fernando valley Model A club, ( still have my Jacket ), I was drag racing my Dad's hydroplane here and there during the year, I had friends in the L.A. Roadsters club, and Forties limited. the street was littered with Muscle Cars...Mustangs, Camaros, Vettes, Super Bees, AMXs, Grand Sports, you name it, they were common. We're not talking about the fifties here, or "Where were you in "62", everything broke loose for a second coming after American Graffitti came out in '73. The radio stations were playing Rock 'n Roll again...dedicated "Oldies" stations were popping up all over. Happy Days, and all of their spin-offs were playing on TV. Hell, even American Racing re-introduced the "five spoke" again, as did Ansen, with their "Sprint" wheel. All of this happened and then,.... boom! Smog and insurance companies set mandates to kill off performance cars, so you HAD to go old school to have something cool.
Even drive-in movie theaters eventually were closed down 'cause the property was worth more to developers and the car culture was waning. BUT....check out this kinda dark shot, of my Model A and fellow "Stretcher" member Johnny's '39 Coupe at the Drive-In . I took this photo lying down on my back in one of the furrows the asphalt was shaped as. Also a shot of a '40 coupe ( with a 327 ) that I owned for a short time, and another "Stretcher" member Greg Gerke's Olds powered '31 Coupe. Beats the shit out of a Subaru WRX, WRI, XYZ, IBS, whatever.....these shots are mid-seventies.
 

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I only got away a few times but got caught most of the time. Back in the 70s the cops could pull you over for spot checks ( license and registration) between my 66 Chevy 2 and my 73 Mach 1 I was pulled over 68 times before losing count. I never got a ticket during the spot checks but I got plenty more when I did get caught speeding. Hell I got 2 tickets when I wasn’t they were picking on the car and must’ve had to reach their quota. The one time I did get away it was In a spectator way, I was racing a maverick and it was along race. The 1st part of the race would start out on a long flat road that was about a mile long. Then it would turn into a country road going over a small mountain with a lot of turns. After that it would go on flat country roads. The object of the race was to get to a well known damns parking lot first. The race was about 8 miles long , I blew the maverick away at the start of the race what we didn’t know was a cop was behind us as we drove the course going the opposite way scoping for cops. The cop pulled into the only driveway along the straightaway behind us. After getting the whole shot there was enough distance between us that the cop jumped out in between us and was going to chase me down. Long story short the cop lost it on the winding road part of the course and wrecked. I didn’t know about the cop chasing me until the maverick reached the parking lot and told me what happened. I left the area and stayed away for months . I verified it with some friends over the next couple of days to see if the other guy was bull crapping me. Well it was true and the only description they got was a small blue car. Another time as I look back was the most stupid thing I ever did. I got into a race with a Camaro on a main road. It was fall and the neighborhood must have gotten together and racked their leaves into a big pile in the slow lane. Of course I was in the slow lane and we were really getting it fender to fender. I was to hard headed to give up and slow down and cut in the lane behind the Camaro . I proceeded to pedal to the metal and ran through this huge pile of leaves. Fortunately for me there wasn’t a car parked under that pile of leaves and no kids were playing in it. I lost the race and to this day I count my blessings nothing horrific happened because of my total lack of common sense.
Yeah, those were the days. I was in the Gear Strethchers car club, ( still have the jacket and my car plaque), I was also in the San Fernando valley Model A club, ( still have my Jacket ), I was drag racing my Dad's hydroplane here and there during the year, I had friends in the L.A. Roadsters club, and Forties limited. the street was littered with Muscle Cars...Mustangs, Camaros, Vettes, Super Bees, AMXs, Grand Sports, you name it, they were common. We're not talking about the fifties here, or "Where were you in "62", everything broke loose for a second coming after American Graffitti came out in '73. The radio stations were playing Rock 'n Roll again...dedicated "Oldies" stations were popping up all over. Happy Days, and all of their spin-offs were playing on TV. Hell, even American Racing re-introduced the "five spoke" again, as did Ansen, with their "Sprint" wheel. All of this happened and then,.... boom! Smog and insurance companies set mandates to kill off performance cars, so you HAD to go old school to have something cool.
Even drive-in movie theaters eventually were closed down 'cause the property was worth more to developers and the car culture was waning. BUT....check out this kinda dark shot, of my Model A and fellow "Stretcher" member Johnny's '39 Coupe . I took this photo lying down on my back in one of the furrows the asphalt was shaped as. Also a shot of a '40 coupe ( with a 327 ) that I owned for a short time, and another "Stretcher" member Greg Gerke's Olds powered '31 Coupe. Beats the shit out of a Subaru WRX, WRI, XYZ, IBS, whatever.....these shots are mid-seventies.
We still have a drive in movie open , they let the driver in free on sundays if you’re driving a classic car.
 
Third Story, and all True
I used to have a "66 Shelby GT-350. One New Years Eve, I was at a party, just over the hill , in Calabasas, just outside of the San Fernando Valley, where I lived. At this party, one of the guys there asked me " Is that your car outside?" I figured he meant the Shelby, being so different than everybody's, and told him it was mine, He asked me how fast it was, and I couldn't tell him, I don't drive like that and never had opened it up all the way. The evening continued on, and I had a few cocktails. When I left, I headed home on the freeway, yes, I had been at a party, but I felt in control, not really buzzed. It was about 1 or 2 in the morning. As I was driving along, I noticed there was nobody on the freeway so.....I opened the Shelby up. Slight "S" bends at speed took both hands, and I was really moving, The speedo read 120 on the straight wide open ,it was screaming around 6 to 6500 on the Tach. All of a sudden I caught a glimpse of red and blue rotating lights in my rear view mirror, way back behind me, but coming up fast. A pain shot through me....this was it....I'm going to jail, not just for speed, but I was sure they'd nail me about alchohol as well, and impound my Shelby. So I pulled over into the slow lane.....but I was traveling so fast, I hadn't realized that I had pulled over in front of a semi-truck and trailer to slow down. Moments later, the Highway Patrol shot right by, I guess they thought I was going to use the big truck as a sheild to make my get away. Just then, I was at an off-ramp, the Patrol car started to break, but was past the ramp, I took all into account in a few split seconds, and took the off ramp. I turned right, and there at the corner was a Winchel's DoNut Shop, open 24 hours. I was so pumped with adrenalin and kinda shaking ,after experiencing what had just happened, so I drove in and parked to go in, get a hot cup of coffee, settle down. I got the coffee, a donut, and sat down, right next to some cops! I didn't even realize they were there. Worse even, was the fact that I had parked the Shelby right between their two patrol cars! The next thing I know their radios start squaking about a pursuit so they all jump up and get in their cars, and haul ass to find this rogue. I was RIGHT THERE! They could touch me! The car was RIGHT THERE!
Just as soon as they left, I got into the Shelby and quietly disappeared down back streets all the way home. I often wonder if one of those cops at the do-nut shop didn't realize a few minutes later.........hey.......wait a minute...
I recall how on one occasion I had gotten onto the 101 at the Valley Circle Blvd (next to the Hidden Hills entrance) onramp, heading toward Thousand Oaks in a not very stock 1966 Chrysler Newport. The engine had been built by Ken Tice, who back then built racing engines for a lot of pro drivers. Despite the weight of the Newport, that car moved - especially once it was over 30 MPH or so. Well, I opened it up that night, with a near empty freeway (almost 10:00pm). My younger brother was in the shotgun seat, and we were having so much fun seeing how far we could bury the speedometer needles past the 120 marking. Suddenly I noted a car heading in the opposite direction that looked a lot like a large Plymouth Fury, the kind CHP used back then, with their 440 engine. Not one to take any chances I quickly braked and got off at the Las Virgenes exit, and headed back toward Tarzana/Encino on the 101. As I was approaching the Valley Circle Blvd exit I saw what looked like could have been another Plymouth Fury (they had a distinctive headlight and parking light appearance absolutely tearing up the freeway, obviously in pursuit of "someone." Not wanting to appear to be looking suspicious or guilty I decided to slow down to 55 (this was in 1973 or so, 65 MPH was the limit on that stretch). About the time we hit the Tarzana exits a CHP vehicle flew up on my arse and the red light was flipped on. I got off at the next exit and parked in a 76 gasoline station that was well lit, just off the exit I had taken.

The CHP car had two officers in it, and another were amused that I did not stop immediately on the side of the freeway. I told them I was concerned for their safety on a dark freeway and felt the safer option was to exit the freeway and park in a well lit area. Then came the questions, "Why were you going so fast back there?" "Back where? On the 101? I was going that speed because it is dark out and I did not want to outdrive my headlights." "No, before that, past Valley Circle Blvd, we saw you traveling at a very high rate of speed." "Well, I got on the freeway at Valley Circle (true statement), but I kept my speed at 55 just to be careful." More questions came forth, and some accusations. But, I was not cracking. "Okay then, where are you going this time of night?" "Over to spend the night at our aunt and uncle's home in Tarzana. We are very close to their home now, in fact." "What is their address?" "They are at 18761 Edleen Drive in Tarzana." That was their address, but they were nor expecting us to show up, so I hoped they would not follow us there and ask them if they were expecting us.

Luckily they tired of the cat and mouse game and let us go, no ticket but a stern warning about watching our speed. I assured them I would maintain a safe speed for the conditions. Once they pulled away my brother and I had one hell of a good laugh. But, my heart was still pounding at the prospect of being hauled off in cuffs for running at well over 120 MPH. We went back to the Topanga Canyon Road exits and stopped in at Denny's to grab a burger, fries, and a coke. After that we stayed off the freeway for the rest of our evening cutting around. Fun days. I guess the reason I have cooled my jets, despite having some very fast cars now, is because I lived past 19 once by some stroke of good fortune. I do not think I could get away with the kind of behavior I once exhibited again, I am not taking needless chances.
 
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That old Model A that I had as my very first car, probably saved my life. For an 18 year old boy, if I had driven everyday, a more powerfull car, I may very well had gotten into speed related accidents. Another plus was that there was no power steering, mechanical brakes, no heater, and a off-road Jeep like ride. All of which demandedthat you physically steer the car, think ahead, as far as braking is concerned, and on winter nights, you were cold, even with a jacket...but I loved that car. It accelerated well for what it was, all of 40 Horsepower, but not so that you'd get in trouble. I had it up to 73 mph .Every young boy should be so lucky as to have a guardian angel looking after them. Mine happened to be Annie, my trusty, cherry, bitchin' 1930 Model A Coupe. Another plus, was that when my girlfriend drove places with me, she was right next to me,...that seat saw some action!.
I would drive the "A Bone" to many High School weekend partys, where, invariably, the cops would come at around ten o'clock and break it up. Marijuana was illegal back then, as is underage drinking and open container laws. Cops would many times screen the kids as they were driving away at the end of the block to check for this stuff. When I would pull up, they'd just wave me through. I mean, look at his car, this fine young man can't be a part of this rabble - rousing bunch of long- hairs driving their hopped up noisy cars! I never got stopped, and many times, other kids would put their "stash" in my Model A's trunk, so I could get the stuff past the cops, and meet the people at a different location so they could pick up their beer, wine, pot, whatever they had at the party. I was fairly popular with all of the cliques in High School as the guy who was untouchable by the cops. That Model A was Teflon.
Another plus, was that , they used to have random smog and safety checks, where cops would pull over groups of people just driving down the street, to check their emissions and such. Remember, this is California in the early Seventies.The cops always just waved me through. I did insist one time, because I was curious as to what the tailpipe reading would be. They hooked up to my tailpipe, I retarded the spark manually all the way , on the collumn, closed the idle, and reached over to the right to adjust the Mixture/choke rod to lean that baby out. The cops just laughed at the reading, it was so clean running. Even though, at some point, I also owned a Hot Rod, the Model A was my everyday car that I could drive evrywhere, and I did so for 11 years. I should never have sold her.
Spike, by chance was your Model A yellow? If so did you ever work at Smith's Food King as a boxboy on the corner of Fallbrook Ave and Victory Blvd in Canoga Park? Was your hair blonde back then? If so, you and I met. Until 1974 I worked there part time as a clerk during college, and a box boy before that. Man, that was so long ago...
 
Spike, by chance was your Model A yellow? If so did you ever work at Smith's Food King as a boxboy on the corner of Fallbrook Ave and Victory Blvd in Canoga Park? Was your hair blonde back then? If so, you and I met. Until 1974 I worked there part time as a clerk during college, and a box boy before that. Man, that was so long ago...
No, that yellow Coupe was not mine, You can see the color of my Coupe in my first post, though I vaguely remember a yellow Coupe owned by someone south of the boulevard up in Woodland Hills. I worked at the 76 Union station on Topanga and Burbank....right next to that Dennys you mentioned ( small world, huh? ), and after that at Woodland Hills Auto Parts, just west of Topanga on Ventura Blvd. You mentioned Ken Tice. I believe his last name was spelled Theis, something like that, but pronounced exactly the same. Ken was the owner of Ken's Racing Engines, on Parthenia, a few blocks east of Topanga. Of all the cars I've owned, and I've posted quite a few on here, I also had a "32 Pick-up, bright yellow, with a Flathead. Ken's racing engines did the port, polish & relieving on my flathead block. I think he must have done the valve work too. I know I assembled it. Ken now lives and has his shop up somewhere around Bass Lake, California.
Yeah, it was a while ago my friend, but what fun!
Included here, is a shot of that Flathead Ford I built for my pick-up, being inspected by my good friend Lauren Arana, who I've known since the auto parts store days, through us both working at PAW, we had our own shop called A&A Machine, and he went on to Ed Pink's Racing Engines, and I to Valley Head Service. The Flathead was a runner....in the righthand photo, that's me on the left, Lauren in the doorway, standing in front of our shop.
 

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