A good family friend who worked with the Texas Highway Patrol knew I was looking at Mustangs. He had told me that if I got an eight cylinder not to bring it by to show it off, because he had seen and heard of to many bad accidents with the Mustangs. After I bought the car, I took it by for his approval and he was so glad I had bought the six. I never did tell him I was really wanting an eight.
From that day on it was an every day driver. It has taken me down to Port Aransas, Corpus Christi, down to the Valley and a big part of North and East Texas many times. When I was in the Army the car mostly sat in my mom and dads garage, they both would drive it around the block to keep it going. But once mom’s car was not running and she had to drive the Mustang to work for a few days. All of her coworkers thought she looked good driving that bright red Mustang. (Not to get off the subject of the Mustang. My mom, at that time had a ’66 Fairlane 500XL. Oooh, that was a sweet car and I sure wanted it, then and now.) After I got home from Vietnam, my mustang took me to Indiana, Michigan and Kentucky, and back home again without hardly a problem.
After the Army, and just before Pat and I were married in 1975, the car was looking little tired so I had it repainted. After we were married, that little car took us to Arkansas and back several times safe and sound. In 1981 when I bought a new truck the Mustang became a weekend driver. Then when insurance and license were a little too much for the budget, because of family needs. The car kind of just set in the garage and became a shelf. I would unload the shelf; I mean the car and drive it around the block. Then one day when I was unloading the shelf, I mean the car, I saw out lines of the boxes that had been setting on top of the car, I decided that was enough and saved up some money and got the car repainted again and before the car came back from the paint shop I already had a car cover for it. That is the only thing that goes on the car, other than wax.
