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Join me in welcoming @samandw to FCBO.
Welcome, samandw
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Thanks for the welcome! Do I have a story for y'all!
One upon a time, there was a man that I had the great privilege of meeting shortly before he passed away in his late 80's. He was an avid collector of, well everything, but especially cars, and really anything with an engine. Among his collection was a beautiful original 1964 Imperial Crown sedan. When I was in my teens, my dad had a 1965 Chrysler New Yorker, so the car type felt very, very familiar. I actually used that New Yorker to commute to community college for about a year too, and usually carpooled with a friend I've known since childhood (this will be important later). After the owner of the Imperial passed away, one of his close friends let me know it was for sale. As these things go, I wasn't really looking to add another car to my collection, but when I heard this car was up for sale, I connected with the former owner's daughter who was handling the estate, and I made an offer at the "I can't NOT buy it" fair price. The owner's daughter was totally understanding and said she had a couple interested people but if they didn't come through, she'd call me back. As I'm sure you've guessed by now, she called me back a day or two later, and we closed the deal. It was parked about 4 miles away, (mostly highway), and ran, but barely. You had to pour gas down the carb to start it, the power steering was making hideous noises, and the brake booster was providing no boost at all for those 4 drum brakes. It was clear I was going to need someone to follow me home just in case anything went wrong. As it turned out, the weekend it worked out to get it, my childhood friend that I used to commute with in that New Yorker, that now lives thousands of miles away, happened to be visiting. Just like old times, we managed to get some gas in it, get it started, and determine that while the brakes worked more like a leg press machine, they did, in fact, work. I poured some gas down the carb, got it running, and drove it to the nearest gas station about half a mile away where we put a few gallons of gas in it and filled the power steering fluid. Thinking "so far so good" . . . I decided to risk the drive to my house. It stalled a few times in slow traffic on a bridge, but I was able to push that pushbutton automatic into neutral and get it restarted every time. Just a few blocks before my house it stalled at a light and wouldn't restart, requiring a quick pop of the hood, a splash of gas down the carb, and getting fired up just in time for the next green light. Now this is where the story gets really interesting! I'm going through the paperwork and realize the original owner that purchased it new lived less than 4 blocks from my house! The dealership he purchased it at, was also less than a mile away, and the building is still there. I later learned that the man who had owned it right before me, worked at that dealership, when the car was purchased. I bought the car fully intending to get it running and sell it, but I think I might just have to keep this one. It feels like it was meant to be, mine.
One upon a time, there was a man that I had the great privilege of meeting shortly before he passed away in his late 80's. He was an avid collector of, well everything, but especially cars, and really anything with an engine. Among his collection was a beautiful original 1964 Imperial Crown sedan. When I was in my teens, my dad had a 1965 Chrysler New Yorker, so the car type felt very, very familiar. I actually used that New Yorker to commute to community college for about a year too, and usually carpooled with a friend I've known since childhood (this will be important later). After the owner of the Imperial passed away, one of his close friends let me know it was for sale. As these things go, I wasn't really looking to add another car to my collection, but when I heard this car was up for sale, I connected with the former owner's daughter who was handling the estate, and I made an offer at the "I can't NOT buy it" fair price. The owner's daughter was totally understanding and said she had a couple interested people but if they didn't come through, she'd call me back. As I'm sure you've guessed by now, she called me back a day or two later, and we closed the deal. It was parked about 4 miles away, (mostly highway), and ran, but barely. You had to pour gas down the carb to start it, the power steering was making hideous noises, and the brake booster was providing no boost at all for those 4 drum brakes. It was clear I was going to need someone to follow me home just in case anything went wrong. As it turned out, the weekend it worked out to get it, my childhood friend that I used to commute with in that New Yorker, that now lives thousands of miles away, happened to be visiting. Just like old times, we managed to get some gas in it, get it started, and determine that while the brakes worked more like a leg press machine, they did, in fact, work. I poured some gas down the carb, got it running, and drove it to the nearest gas station about half a mile away where we put a few gallons of gas in it and filled the power steering fluid. Thinking "so far so good" . . . I decided to risk the drive to my house. It stalled a few times in slow traffic on a bridge, but I was able to push that pushbutton automatic into neutral and get it restarted every time. Just a few blocks before my house it stalled at a light and wouldn't restart, requiring a quick pop of the hood, a splash of gas down the carb, and getting fired up just in time for the next green light. Now this is where the story gets really interesting! I'm going through the paperwork and realize the original owner that purchased it new lived less than 4 blocks from my house! The dealership he purchased it at, was also less than a mile away, and the building is still there. I later learned that the man who had owned it right before me, worked at that dealership, when the car was purchased. I bought the car fully intending to get it running and sell it, but I think I might just have to keep this one. It feels like it was meant to be, mine.
kowalski1970
Senior Member
Welcome from Virginia!!!
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