390 Ford Galaxy and a Rambler meet the Sheriff
Street racing is for punks. I have nothing but the highest disdain for the idiots that do it. Today I know what it can do. I have lost a relative to a horrific auto accident, I have seen friends scarred for life and I have witnessed terrible crashes, I have come close but never been involved.With all that said I was an idiot in high school and would often street race down narrow alleys in the dark, speed around city streets and charge blindly through intersections. You might have read before about my parents red 1959 Rambler. What it missed in horsepower it made up for in smallness and good cornering.
Dad’s 1959 Rambler was similar to this picture but bright red!
On this particular night a friend was his parents 1964 Ford Galaxy 2 door with a 390. This should not have been a race at all. That big block should have eaten me up. However, I was the rabbit being chased by the big dog so I got to set the path.
The 1964 Ford Galaxy chasing me was like this but turquise and white if I remember correctly.
On the straights that Ford could haul but I would dust it off on the turns. So my path was to turn at EVERY possible corner, the sharper the better and the narrower the road the better so I mostly went down alleys. Every time we got on a stretch of straight he was on my rear bumper.
I began to turn at every alley and look for the narrowest ones I could find and I began to pull away. Suddenly, there were no headlights in my mirror. Wow, I am good! Can’t believe I got away from the Galaxy with a 390.
Monday at school I heard the rest of the story. It seems the dog got caught! The Sheriff spotted us and nailed the Galaxy. The man with the badge asked the Galaxy who he was chasing and he gave me up for a warning from the officer. Now I knew I was in trouble. I am sure my Dad would get a call in a few days; it would not be the first time (more on that one at another time).
Are you like me, the waiting is the worst? I just can’t stand waiting for the call to come so I can get my punishment. I waited and waited but no call. There was more than one Fleener family in Osky at the time and I think the wrong father got the call! How cool is that?
I actually got away with that one, but not all of them. More on that on another day.
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