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Olds Stories
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We are always eager to hear from our members. Many cars have a great
story to go along with them. Submit your stories to us for the
website, and our newsletter.
Dave Jordan - O.C.C. Member 199 I was the second oldest of four teenage boys living in north-east London, Ontario as the 1960's were drawing to a close. We had a fleet of Volkswagen Beetles which, in reality consisted of mostly spare parts, a mint one previous owner 1929 Model A and a 1961 black Chevy for our mom. With a lot of novice drivers in our family, I suppose my dad felt the need to provide us with a more substantial vehicle. A trip to Toronto ensued and a beautiful 1964 F-85 appeared in our laneway. See photos - 2 door post, yellow with black interior, bucket seats, 330 CID high compression V8. No power steering or power brakes, we had lots of testosterone to wheel the mighty beast. My oldest brother Jim (OCC member 265) got the first turn to own this baby. Soon thereafter Jim came home with a with a brand new 1970 Le Mans and $900 later, the Tahitian yellow F-85 was mine. That was in December of 1969 and for the next 20 months I'd learn the true meaning of "Happy Motoring". Little did I know that I was also developing a deeply rooted obsession. Little did I know that every car I would own thereafter would never measure up to this baby - but I digress.
Back in 1969, I was working as a night shift manager of the Red Barn Restaurant, which was owned by none other than Dale Pfile (proprietor of NOS Reproductions in Kilworth and former OCC member 58). One of my duties was to use my yellow F-85 to drive the staff home after work. So many great stories! Such as the time a road grader re-modeled the passenger side body lines - nobody hurt and time for some fresh paint anyway. At high speed she would float, until a dip in the road got my attention and the shocks cycled to their stops a few times before the brakes finally dug in - I never did that again! Many years later I was recounting that tall yarn for my little brother (also an owner of this same F-85) and he said that happened to him too. He said in the wee hours of the morning he took that car through a stop sign at 60 and all four wheels left the ground. I asked him why he was doing 60 at a stop sign? He said, "That's all I could get it slowed down from 110"! . . . but I digress again. The summer of 1970 was carefree with great music on the radio, sun, beach and many happy hours spent by this 19 year old behind the wheel of his yellow F-85. I also met my lovely wife of 27 years and mother or our three great kids. She took all of these photos (the pictures in 1970 and the recent photos too) in front of my parents house on Oakside Street in London. The summer of 1971 was looking to be a carbon copy of the previous year. That is until July 19 when my dad informed me that my turn was over and it was time for me to sell the F-85 to son number 3. For my replacement car dad found me a boat the H.M.S. Parisenne, power steering, power brakes, power everything, recliner seats, bring your own stogie - that was no car for a young guy. Still later brother 4 got his turn with the F-85 and after that, the venerable old F-85 went back to Toronto and presumably is long gone. And that would be the end of my story - or so I thought. Many years later, I had a vivid dream that I owned another 1964 F-85 Cutlass. When I woke, I actually went to the garage to have a look. No car - just a dream. I discussed with my wife how profound and deeply rooted my subconscious feelings must be about losing my F-85 on that fateful day in July of 1971 for this to occur. Unbeknownst to me, for the next 5 years, my wife searched the want ads for a 1964 F-85 that was for sale. Then, in July of 1997, she presented me with a tiny newspaper clipping from the Toronto Star and she told me that she wanted me to have my car back.We drove to Toronto to see it and it was love at first sight - actually it was more like a reunion. I took a peek in the glove box and was delighted to find the original owner's manual. VIN 43267005634 was delivered by Belmont Chevrolet to Lily Marsh of Willowdale on May 21, 1964. Lily, I hope you are still out there. I can tell you that your car is just fine. My new old Olds and I have become fast friends. And like any great friendship, we've been through quite a bit together these past three years. Starting with a forged safety check from the previous owner (he is car dealer - for same) and a trip to the MOT to give back to the nice man in the uniform an almost new set of licence plates. Then, a total frame and underbody repair crafted by welding magician Glen Harris - visiting hours were Friday's at 4:00. Three months later, on the day the frame was finished, the original starter seized and instead of taking it for a nice spin, the F-85 got pushed into the garage - at least visiting hours were every day. After that got replaced, I went back to see the nice man in the uniform at the Department of Transport - if you see me crusin' you'll know it's me as my custom plates are "MY F85". Last year, a little top end motor work was in order for a set of lifters and we found the camshaft was not very healthy. Try and find one of those for a 330 CID at your neighborhood car parts store. Some nice American folks in Lansing came to the rescue and in the hands of master motor man Gordie Overbaugh (also a former resident of Oakside St. - small world) this high compression power plant was once again a rocket purring with all of its 290 horses. Next in line will be some fresh paint and replace some tired upholstery - but I'm in no hurry, I have a feeling this car and I will have a lot more stories to tell.
I'll end my story where it started, with a trip to my mom's house for some new pictures. Same house, same type of car, same background scenery, same photographer, same car owner striking the same pose. Okay the driver is showing some road wear, but on the inside I'm a 19 year old kid again - and all my dreams and sweet!
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