How The Dream Began

Pretty much since I started walking, I've been a fan of stock car racing, and in the NASCAR Grand National Series in particular. (Yes, kids... there WAS a series name before Sprint Cup, Nextel Cup, and even before Winston Cup!) A little over 30 years ago, I was walking back to my job when David Pearson's 1975 #21 Wood Brothers / Purolator Mercury drove right by me on the street!

Well, despite my surprise I was still pretty confident that it was NOT the REAL car. But I still thought it was pretty cool. I mean, imagine driving what was essentially a race car on the street!

It would be a while before I would learn about these promotional cars and how they were simply a factory vehicle with lookalike paint schemes and graphics. Over the next couple years I would also chance upon a Gatorade Olds and later a Skoal Oldsmobile. But, like the Mercury I had seen earlier, they were simply flashy street cars. Sure, I wanted one of my own, but as the dream grew, I also wanted it to be a little different.

How Project Fireball Got Started.

Fact is, I really didn't start out intending to build Fireball Roberts' old car. For nearly 15 years I tried to talk my Uncle Ronnie out of his old metallic blue '64 Galaxie XL that had sat idle in a mass of weeds on his horse property gathering layers of dust and serving as a community housing project for field mice, wasps and black widows.

My hope had been to turn that particular car into a replica of Ned Jarrett's 1964 #11 Bondy-Long car simply through fresh paint and decals, in the same vein as the promo cars I has seen in the past. Every October the family would get together at his place for a reunion and picnic, and every year, plead as I might, my uncle would just repeat to me that he had plans for it and wasn't interested in selling it. Still, I held out hope that I was finally whittling his resistance down.

Then in September of 2005 my dad called to wish me a happy birthday. (He does this every year.) He also informed me that my uncle gave away the Galaxie to my nephew. 15 years of trying to buy the car, and my uncle just hands over the car to my 18 year-old nephew!

Needless to say, THAT sucked.

In retrospect, this would be a blessing in disguise. My uncle's (now nephew's) Galaxie would have required a lot more work, not to mention skill and money, than I would be able to provide. And although I wouldn't know it at the time, this little disappointment would eventually serve as the catalyst for my future success. Still...

Frustrated and feeling that my long-held dream was being crushed by some obscene gesture of fate, on a lark I started to search eBay for an old Galaxie or Fairlane that might meet my wants. I had some simple criteria: not rusted out, no major body damage, in running condition, and within my budget. Yeah, dream on, boy... dream on.

Most of the cars I chanced upon during my eBay searches were either too nice for what I wanted to do, too rusted, too expensive, too damaged, two doors too many, or too far away to make getting it to the west coast a realistic possibility. Still, I bid ridiculously low amounts on them, primarily to keep an eye on the bids and subsequent winning bid amounts, and knowing full well that my bids (usually less than $500) wouldn't come close to winning the car. It was beginning to feel like a waste of time.

Then I came upon an eBay auction for a '64 Galaxie, located in Fresno, CA, only about 170 miles south of my home. Per the auction description: "Body in good condition, light rust, daily driver. Some fire and smoke damage not visible in the pictures."

Uh, fire and smoke damage?

Well, it looked pretty good in the pics, and it was clearly advertised as a daily driver. It had a $1000 starting bid, but with a reserve, and a "Buy it Now" price of $2500. I had about $1000 in the bank, so I bid the opening amount of $1000 (per eBay response: "You are the highest bidder, but the reserve has not been met". Like, Duh!) and figured I'd watch this one go the way of the others.

2 Days . Still the only bid.

3 Days . Still high bid, but a question appears on the auction page - Q: How bad is the rust? A: It is mostly light surface rust, but there is some rust in the trunk.

5 days . Still high (and only) bid, but another question has been asked - Q: How bad is the fire damage? A: The windows were rolled up, so it snuffed itself out.

7 days, and the auction is over. I was the only bid, and the reserve was never reached or revealed. Oh, well... another one gets away. Or so I thought.

About a week later, the seller contacted me and said that his mom had told him that if I still wanted the car for the $1000 bid, it's mine.

Guess what my response was?

I Get To Buy The Car! Now What?

The seller and I agreed on a date to get together and complete the sale; October 1. By a matter of fate, the day we agreed upon would also be my wife's and my first anniversary. Geez, married only one year and I was about to test those "for better or worse" vows!

Mind you, my wife is not a real fan of hot rods or racing, much less car restorations, but she knows what they mean to me. In a genuine demonstration of what can only be true love, my wonderful wife gave her blessing that we take a family trip to Fresno to pick up this "old, burnt-up car" (her words - the few pictures available didn't quite fill her with enthusiasm) because it meant so much to me.

It should be noted that marrying my wife included her 5 kids as part of a package deal. They're really great kids! An outsider could easily assume that might be the reason she was so forgiving of this deal; this silly dream of mine. Not really... she's just that wonderful!

So, we packed up the 8 of us (me, Patti, her 5 kids and my daughter) into our 7-passenger Windstar (everyone was in a seat belt, though) for the 2 1/2 hour jaunt south. When we arrived in Fresno, it quickly became apparent that Yahoo! Maps isn't always the most accurate resource for finding a place you've never visited. But, a couple cell phone calls to the owner later, and we were there.

Well... There It Is!

When we finally arrived at the house, even I will admit that it wasn't the prettiest thing I had ever seen. And judging by the expression on Patti's face, it was plain to see that she had been expecting something better. It was covered in dust that had pretty much turned into streaks of mud from a recent light rain shower, missing some chrome off of the right quarter panel that revealed a starkly different color beneath, and through the smeared windshield could be made out 3 different colored sheets covering the front seat and some shards of burnt headliner dangling from the roof of the car.

Although she said nothing, I swear I could hear her thinking, "We just drove 170 miles for that ?" Turning my head and looking into her pretty face revealed an expression that hovered somewhere between "You're not really going to buy that?" and "Oh, gawd, you ARE going to buy that!"

I simply smiled back as sweetly as I could and said, "I guess we're here!" and got out of the van before any vocal protest arose, joined by my 18 year-old daughter, Amanda, and Patti's oldest son, Daniel (13 years old), who both looked at the car and whispered "Cool!" in unison. We were then greeted by the owner.

Closer inspection of the car revealed that the front bumper had a bit of a twist, there was damage to the left front fender, the grill was broken in the center, some of the paint had been blistered from heat, much of the chrome around the side windows had also been blistered from the fire and were now pitted, the passenger door would not open from the outside, and there was no trunk lock or bezel. The seller opened the trunk with a screwdriver and revealed a trunk full of smoked/burnt interior trim pieces, a few exterior chrome pieces, both front door interior panels, and a couple disheveled cardboard boxes littered with, well, stuff .

I opened the driver's door and found sheets and an old quilt fighting rather unsuccessfully to cover the mass of rusty bare metal springs that was supposed to serve as a front seat. The back seat wasn't faring any better, but at least it wasn't trying to hide its sorry condition. The headliner consisted of an inconsistent layer of toasted hard foam. Anonymous burnt wires and a crudely wired ignition switch hung from the area behind the dash, which, oddly, looked fresh and sported a recent coat of gray primer.

"I know it doesn't look like much," said the seller assuringly, "but this car was a daily driver for me for over a year in this condition."

Climbing (falling?) into the driver's seat, I found that it wasn't as uncomfortable as it had first appeared, but still was only a couple steps above the discomfort of an Iron Maiden. I leaned back a little and found that the driver's side of the seat had a reclining feature. Only, it wasn't intentional. We shored up the seat back with the lower half of the back seat. Finally, I was handed the keys. "Fire 'er up!" grinned the seller.

Not sure what to expect, I grabbed the dangling ignition in one hand and put in the key with the other. I went to give the gas pedal a pump, whereupon I learned that the car didn't have one. So I gave a small pump on the bare linkage, turned the key... and the car immediately roared to life. Not only roared to life, but purred like a hungry kitten through Flowmasters and out a true dual exhaust system. A couple revs of the engine, and it settled to a smooth idle. I got up out of the seat and reached in my wallet for the $1000 while the seller handed me all of the paperwork. We shook hands, then I got inside and reached over to the passenger door and opened it from the inside so Amanda and Daniel could climb in with me.

I pulled the driver's door shut, then turned the window crank to roll it down and say my thanks once more. A half a turn, and the window fell into the door. The seller looked apologetic and said, "I probably should have warned you about that."

We pulled out of the driveway, with Patti pulling up behind us as we drove off. We stopped for a late lunch at an In-and-Out Burger, gassed up the two vehicles, and headed home. Driving up Highway 99, we encountered a severe downpour. That was when we found out the other small detail the seller had failed to mention... the wipers didn't work.

I drove like a dog with my head out the window to the first exit I could actually see, bought some Rain-X at a gas station and applied it. It worked fine in the rain, but I still had the issue of the driver's window that wouldn't roll back up.

We made it home safely. Wet, but safe. So... now where do I put it?