When I was 16 my grandfather bought a 1963 Chevy Impala by from the family next door. Actually it belonged to their son, an old running buddy of mine who had criminal inclinations and tended to end up in Juvie hall occasionally.
His dad was an older man who had drinking tendencies and after a binge found himself broke and since Delvis (Delvis Rainwater...yep, that was his name) was in jail again he sold his car to grandpa to get through the month. 300 bucks... Not bad really even for 1974. It was a pretty cool 2 door hdtp, 283 4bbl carb and a powergilde trans, cloth bench seats with Monaco blue paint and blue interior. Recently I found out that it was built in June 1963 right here at the Doraville assembly plant right here in Georgia.
I needed a car at the time and started driving it and in retrospect I guess I just never gave it back. Years later not long before he died we were sitting and talking one day and he asked if I still had that car he gave me. I grinned in realization and said "yeah, I guess you did didn't you. "
Di and I drove to Walahalla South Carolina to get married in that car. She was too young to get married in Georgia so we loaded up the mothers and did the deed. I drove it back and forth to Fort Knox Kentucky when I was in the Army and when I had to go overseas I left it with my cousins husband who I used to hang with alot working on cars and the such.
Apparently he developed a drinking problem and by the time I got back stateside I found that he had been selling parts off of it and left it sitting trunk open and windows partially down for who knows how long. I was not a happy camper.
Working minimum wage with two kids it took me a couple of years to piece it back together but finally got it back on the road. It was my primary mode of transportation for another 20 years then I retired it to the bottoms with my collection for an updated ride but vowed one day to fix it up again. Many years and many cars and the ole 63 just kept getting pushed to the back of my priorities until several years ago I built an addition onto the polebarn and finally got its rusted hulking mass under cover and began my diassembly process stripping it down to body and frame
More years passed and it was last fall when I decided it was long past time and dove headlong into the arduous process of derusting and rebuilding. I have thus far managed to get the top and some of the quarters in primer and have just completed the chassis rebuild. All new suspension bushings and joints, brake system, fuel system and body bushings..O.E. looking stuff, pretty cool.
Most of my time spent cleaning and painting parts.. Little bitty parts.. hundreds of them. Chrome and stainless for miles but every small step is a step closer to taking her down the road again. I ain't no body man but I can dang sure make them go down the road. I figure another couple of million man hours and more money than I care to think of and I will get to fulfill my promise to the old girl that I would put her back on the road again someday.
I'm getting pretty long in the tooth myself but I do have a 9 year old grandson so maybe.. just maybe he will get to take it down the road one day and forget to bring it back...poetic justice? Or destiny?