Your favorite Model A Story

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Dennis L Oberer

Senior Member
How about we end this year with anyone that wants to, post their favorite Model A Story?

I have several....I will post mine last after everyone else. Most of them involve something that I did that was stupid but turned out funny.

And Merry Christmas to all of youse guys (as we say here in N.E. Wisconsin).

Dennis L Oberer
Green Bay (Frozen Tundra)
 
My FAVORITE Model A Story is the Horn. I tell you, people love to stare at a Model A coming down the road, but nothing gets them more excited than hearing that beautifully tuned Ahooga Horn. They smile when they see the car, but actually laugh when they hear that horn. That may not seem to be much of a story unless you are a New Owner of one of these great cars like me. That's the thing that impressed me the most.

AHOOGA TO ALL AND MERRY CHRISTMAS.........!
 
When I was in high school(class of 65) my buddy had a 30 sport coupe with rumble seat and we would double date to the drive-in.. My girl and I would sneak in in the rumble area until we parked and than my buddy would open the rumble and up we popped.. Great fun and time to grow up in...........
 
Hearing the "horn" story, reminds me of the times when I've utilized the Model A horn when another driver has cut me off.

The sound seems inadequate, when they turn around and laugh as if to say, "get serious!"

Ah...oooogha! :rolleyes:
 
As a SoCal boy going to junior college in Victorville and visiting my parents in Big Bear Lake on weekends in 1964 I drove the 45 miles across the desert and up the hill many times in my '30 Fordor. Before starting JC I had backed the sedan into a tree at 25 MPH so pulled the rear of body off in anticipation of replacing it with one a fellow classmate in the desert had. Not being well educated in A's I didn't realize untill to late that a '31 S/W rear will NOT fit on a '30. I drove it this way, nothing behind the front seat except frame & fenders. Winter was cold and snowy but summers were a burner. One trip up the hill I decided to ride in the wind. Just outside town in third gear I pulled down the hand throttle and climbed up to sit on the back of the front seat, looking out over the top of the w/s header. It was great! Steering with my feet and the wind in my hair. When I hit the hills steep enough to shift I just reached down, levered up the throttle, shifted into second and added throttle again. (I'd learned how to shift w/o a clutch the summer before when it went out.) I got all the way home with out running into a CHP officer so I figured it was my lucky day. (We should all be dead for the dumb things we did as kids.)
 
In the mid 70's I was working on a Cat in the shop and my Dad was putting the engine back in the A. Every once in a while he'd call me over to wiggle this or jiggle that, but basically he did it all himself. He finally proclaimed success and asked me to inspect his work, he had everything together except the hood. Told him it looked OK but was sure going to make a racket going down the road. When asked to explain, I being his son with his same droll sense of humor, pointed out that the continous chain on the chain fall was around the engine. I thought it was pretty funny til he grabbed the torch cut the chain and yelled back to me to fix the chain fall as he drove off in the A. Goin on 20 years and still miss him.
 
Most recent thing I did was to fill the gas tank and run back home before going to camp.I got a few things together,then took off.Right in front of the town dump the truck quit dead.Plenty of spark,unhooked the fuel line,nothing.Took off the bowl,clean screen.Thought it was kind of odd,I really didn't think that finger screen would plug with my tank as clean as it is.Bowl back on,took off the cap and blew back through the line listening for bubbles.No bubbles,just air hissing.Bone dry tank.How did I lose a full tank in 1-1/2 miles without at least smelling it?There must have been thirty of my friends that stopped to help.it was dump day.One gave me some gas,but I had no leaks.I filled it again and went home to look for the problem although I was seeing no sign of a leak.When I had looked it over for a bit I realized I had taken the roadster out for gas,then took off in the empty pickup. Years ago I was at a local diner for lunch,and an old fellow was going all over my A.When I came out he was knocking on the fenders,real Ford steel,none of that plastic s@#t.None of us peed in his wheaties though,they were glass fenders.He was as proud as if he owned the truck himself.Another guy was showing the engine in one of mine to his son.It was idling outside my garage with the hood off when his son asked about the brass strips going to the spark plugs.The dad said,these are the spark plug wires and put his finger right on one.We rolled around laughing,and I said I never met a mechanic stupid enough to grab a bare plug wire.The kid said well you met one now,so his dad cuffed him,making us laugh all the more,including the kid.
 
I live in a tourist area, and the A always gets attention. I often visit our local micro-brewery for a cool one (we don't have an ice cream store), and talk to the out of towners. Of course, I park the A right out front for all to see.

A typical family (Mom, Dad, little sister, middle brother, & big sister) were visiting; found out they were from Chicago. I had my drivers cap on, and they deduced I was the A driver. After talking for a few minutes, Mom asked if her oldest daughter could take a picture of the car. Of course any respecting A owner never turns down a photo opportunity.

After awhile, I noticed she had taken a LARGE number of pictures. I also noticed her camera was a film type, and concluded there was no way that camera held enough film to take that many pictures. I approached her, asking if she thought her camera was taking good pictures. She looked confused for a minute until I asked her to check her film advance indicator. There was no way you could describe her disappointed look. I then asked her to open the camera, as we probably could just rethread the film; if not, she had more film available in her camera bag.

After correcting the film problem, I helped her by opening the hood (both sides), each door (it's a Fordor), I sat inside, she sat inside, etc, etc. Come to find out she was doing this as a class project for her high school camera course. I then invited the family to go for a ride; with the camera student up front so she could take pictures through the windshield while going down the road.

I have often wondered how her assignment did in the camera course, and what her fellow students and teachers had to say.

I have many other such stories, but I'll save them for later.
 
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I was hooked on Model "A's at age 8 when my brother Doug bought one when he was 15. He surprised me one day when I was 12...he bought me my own car and let me work on it up the street at his house. I finished it (a '29 CC pickup) when I was 17 and me and a buddy of mine planned to drive it from St. Louis to Memphis in 1971 to the 2nd Annual Street Rod Nationals. We left at 3am and got about 10 miles before we had burned out the headlight bulbs and all the spares I had. Seems I had a loose wire at the terminal box; later in Engineering school I learned it was a practical example of Ohm's Law. We slept beside the road until sun-up and then drove the rest of the way to Memphis. At Memphis, we saw countless (well, 600 anyway) neat street rods all over the fairgrounds. There was also a local club hosting a show for restored cars and so I entered my truck. I remember a '29 Town Car also entered. I won "best commercial" and "longest distance", and I thought that was pretty neat for a 17 year old kid. We planned on camping one night (no money) and then staying 2 nights at the host hotel with my brothers and some other buddies who were driving down the next day. We slept on on the ground that first night until the mesquitos got so bad that I couldn't stand it, so then we tried to sleep in the truck. I woke up with my face swollen and dozens of bites on my arms, and I had killed about 20 of them and lined them up on the dash rail to scare the others off. It was the most miserable night I've ever had. But the rest of the trip and the cars (and drinking beer provided by older brothers) was a blast. I traded the pickup for a really nice original '32 Victoria when I was 19, and the story of driving it from St. Louis to Miami, FL to be my daily driver in college was another memorable adventure for another day.

Merry Christmas
 
It was around 1955 and I had my first car 1930 Ford Roadster.

Me and some buddies were at a local amusement park and were
leaving since we ran out of money.

A man asked if I could pull his car to get it started , we tied a rope
to my rear axel and to his front he then told me he had to get up to
30 mile an hour before it would start , he had a 1948 Chrysler .

I pull that car across the lot and it started.
He told me to hold out my hand and he filled it with change.
I looked at my buddies and we all went back to the amusement park
for more fun.
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This is just a fun story I made up many years ago for my brother in Minnesota. He discovered an old abandoned Model A sitting in a forest of trees that had grown up around it. He had to cut some trees down to get a tow truck in there and haul the coupe home. What was interesting is that Bruce knew nothing about cars, tools, or restorations, had no where to work on it, and therefore parked it in the driveway of a friend, a nuclear physicist! The physicist was a really smart guy, but also new little about cars. He did, however, have tools and a driveway. When we were young, I spent months just getting Bruce to know which end of a screwdriver to hold and how to put air in his bicycle tires. Well, I finally had to give up on his tool training when I volunteered for the USN submarine service.

So now, after all these years, I’m still here, doing my level best to help brother Bruce and his coupe shine in the Minnesota sun some day. No matter, I’m still dang proud of this kid and refuse to give up on him.
Nevertheless, it will be a huge load off my shoulders when the A finally gets an entry number hung on the hood for the 2020 forth of July parade.

NOW, here’s the story

Merry Christmas Model A # A3922071,

While you were sleeping, we landed in the drive way.

You may not have known this but we do an annual reconnaissance fly-over every year on December 20. The reindeer, the elves, and I need to circle the earth and check on all abandoned Model A’s based on last year’s log book. We fly home and then make up gift boxes for all the newly rescued A’s and deliver them early on Christmas day.

Since the 1950’s, these recon trips had to be done in broad daylight and there was always a chance of getting spotted. In 1970, two of my senior elves built a set of night vision goggles for Rudolf. He looks ridiculous and gets the other eight to splitting a gut, but is now able to spot those abandoned Model A’s in the dark with just the blink of an eye. There was a time we thought Rudolf’s red nose would shine like a beacon on those abandoned A’s but Mrs. Claus explained that red light just doesn’t reflect from rust and wood worth a darn!

This year’s search shows hundreds of A’s still abandoned and left right there in the drive ways and barns where they passed away. The saddest discovery this year was to find a newly abandoned car, A2365844 in Big Bass Lake in Wisconsin. Cliff Moron had driven out there for some ice fishing even after his wife had warned him the ice was too thin for both him and his original, unrestored, A-400, really sad to see ole A2365844’s roof sticking up six inches above the ice and snow. We’ll make sure to check on this one again next year.

This year, it took Rudolf a split second to see that you were no longer sitting out there in the Bimidii woods all covered in snow. What a relief to find you now resting comfortably under a tarp at a nuclear physicist’s house. As you see, we’ve left you a gift box of 5 quarts of 20W-50 and also a gallon of gas for your first engine test run. After leaving you, we’re flying over to Bratton’s and drop off some of Mrs. Claus’s home baked ginger bread Model A’s. Walt lives for those things! Walt Bratton has been so helpful over the years in saving hundreds of A’s that would have other wise never had a second chance at life on the road. I’m sure your owner will be sending Walt a few C-notes this Christmas for his life saving efforts in supplying reproduction parts! Mrs. Claus and I have always thought he deserves a Nobel Prize for his contribution to the hobby and history.

It’s been a delight to have seen you in person, A2365844. From what I’ve seen of you, the owner and the physicist have made some progress and we’ll check on you again next
Christmas. It would have been nice to have had some mechanics with actual skills working with you, but these two guys have at least gotten you “out of the woods”.

I hope the physicist can handle the driveway situation. Rudy and the other eight got into the plums Mrs. Claus was planning to use in her plum pudding this year.

Wishing you the best in 1975, Gotta fly, SANTA
 
One of my fond memories concerns growing up under an A. I have been around model A's since birth-literally. But I remember vividly standing up under the rear seat of my Town Sedan as a child. I could stand right in front of the rear axel and thought that was so cool! I bring this up because, I started working on her heavily this last year. And now I find I don't fit well under her without jacking her up. But still brings back good memories.

Merry Christmas everyone

Mike
 
In 1962 I pulled a 1930 tudor from Frankfort, Kentucky to Lompoc, California with a 1962 VW sedan----1200CC. It was winter. My tailight consisted of a flashlight with a piece of red cellophane held on to the rear fender with the flashllight's built in magnet. The cars were hooked up with a U-Haul hitch and when I had to make a
sharp turn in either direction, the wheels on the "A" would turn in the opposite direction causing me to have to stop and go back to the old car and straighten out the wheels. How I made it without having an accident or gettng a ticket I'll never know. At one point I stopped at a restaurant and got stuck in the snow. I had to unhook the cars and drive the Model A around in front of the VW and pull it out with a rope. Oh, yeah---I was 21.

Jack
 
My story took place in the 1930's when a pal and I each paid $5 and bought a 1930 Coupe from a junkyard about 20 miles from home. Delivery 20 miles cost fifty cents. It was a good running car and the rear deck had been removed and a homemade box body installed in its place. We were both 12 years old and our small town had ocean beaches and lots of pine woods. One day with tires deflated a bit we were riding the dunes high above the ocean beach below when we got stuck in the soft sand. With the rear tires spinning slowly in the soft sand, hand throttle giving the gas, both of us were out back pushing. As the car moved forward slowly the rear tires suddenly got a grip when they hit some clay. The car took off heading towards a 60 foot drop to the ocean beach below. I had been the driver and was pushing on the left rear side. I was able to scramble into the box body. over the side onto the running board, then open the door and jump in. I stopped the car on the edge of the drop to the beach.

Another brief story took place in 1942 just before gas rationing began and when the sale of new tires had been suspended. I had another 1930 Coupe by then and its tires were threadbare. I had been in Boston, 120 miles from home and had used my spare tire on the trip to the city a week earlier. Friday night around midnight I was about halfway home when the left rear tire blew out. As I had no spare I removed the flat tire and its tube and drove home on the rim. Passing thru the various villages I could see curtains going up and folks looking out to see what was causing the racket. Actually the wheel suffered very little damage from about 60 miles on the rim. I still am driving that 1930 Coupe and you bet it has good tires now.
 
A senior member of a casual coffee group, Clarence, lived a few doors down from my grandfather who recently had his driver’s license revoked. Since my grandfather couldn’t drive, Clarence would pick him up in the morning and take him to a small diner for breakfast. His efforts were truly an act of kindness as my grandfather wasn't much fun to be around having just lost his freedom to drive. I would stop in at the diner, when my work schedule allowed, to visit them. One Friday morning, while at breakfast, Clarence was meeting with a friend, Merlin, and I heard him mention he needed to "act quickly before the guy changed his mind". Clarence had just struck a deal for a 29" Tudor from a local guy who owned it for better than 30 years with the intention of restoring it but never started the project. They were trying to figure out how they would get the car home... I figured I owed him a return favor for all the help he was giving my grandfather so I quickly offered to help them pick up the car with a trailer. We picked up the car and had it pushed into his small shop before days end.

Over the next 5 months, I would stop by every couple days on my way home from work and check up on the progress Clarence and Merlin were making on the restoration. They were having so much fun it was infectious. I started showing up on Saturdays to help and I got the bug… About 4 months after Clarence completed his car, I noticed an ad in the Saturday paper for a 1928 Closed Cab pickup in Atwater, MN. I drove up early the next day to look at it and took a trailer along just in case. I bought it on the spot and hauled it home. It was in pretty sad shape. It had been in an accident and the passenger side was a bit caved in, it had been painted black with a paint brush, the metal was mostly rust along the bottom 4” of the cab and the box looked like it was used to haul scrap iron. Once home, I changed the oil, filled the radiator, put in a new battery, filed the points, cleaned the plugs, poured a couple gallons in the gas tank and it started right up. I didn’t tell Clarence or Merlin I had purchased the truck…I waited until Saturday and just drove it to the diner to surprise them. I had breakfast with them and didn’t say a word about the purchase until we walked out the door together. They looked the A over and exchanged “knowing” glances then commented on how much work we had in front of us! When I told them I didn’t have any lights and it was balking a bit, they decided to follow me back to my shop. At the first corner was a stop sign that intersected Main Street and since Main was the shortest path to my shop, I took it. As I pulled away from the intersection, it started to backfire. Within three blocks I was pulled over by one of the local deputy police, with his lights flashing, right in front of the local bakery that has a coffee shop at the front with almost all windows to the street. I glanced over a couple times while stopped to see that there were a lot of faces pasted in the windows watching the spectacle. The deputy was suggesting that I should get a ticket for operating a vehicle with no lights, a license plate 36 years out of date, questionable brakes and causing a disturbance with what sounded like a shotgun. Clarence, Merlin and I convinced him to change his mind with a bit of humor and the promise to stop the noise and get off the road as quickly as possible. Clarence asked the police officer for an escort and he agreed to lead the way. Clarence and Merlin brought up the rear and I drove the A through town backfiring every couple hundred feet.

The following Monday at 8:00 AM, I was visited by the same deputy at my place of business and handed a driving citation noting lack of registration, unsafe vehicle condition and disturbing the peace. The deputy explained the Chief of police called him into his office upon his arrival and insisted I be issued a citation and I was to immediately report to his office or risk arrest. I thought the Chief was being a bit heavy handed as my wife Jean and I played on the same couple’s softball team as he and his wife did. He really didn’t need to threaten arrest. I was a local businessman…involved in the community and always there when there was a local fundraiser or community project…an arrest would be even more embarrassing after the show in front of the coffee shop. I followed the deputy back to the Chief’s office and when I walked through the door, there sat a local County Judge and the Chief. The Judge, also an acquaintance, had been in the coffee shop Saturday morning, seen the disturbance and had a real stern look on his face. The Chief, Denny, had his back to me with the telephone to his ear. The Judge started saying something about respect for the law and I quickly looked the Chief’s way to discover he was shaking from laughter and was so red faced from holding it in I knew I was off the hook. We laughed till our sides hurt. Denny let me keep my copy of the ticket and the Judge let me know I could skip the specified court date. Both guys still smile every time I meet one of them. I’m sure they are still enjoying the prank they pulled on me. They rattled me pretty good!
Long story…but I hope you enjoyed it!
Good Day!
Dave in MN
 
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Kieth True Your story about the spark plug straps made me remember the time I was in Hi school. We ( My friends and I ) were working on my 29 special coupe and decided to take it for a test drive. So we took off down the road with kids hanging all over the car and with no hood. One smart a## kid reached over and touched one of the spark plug straps and the car was immediately abandon by very one but me As I was not touching any metal.
 
One summer evening I asked my wife if she was interested in an ice cream run. She said yes but as we turned out of the driveway the A sputtered as we were close to empty. The gas station is about 1 mile from my home so I figured we would make it. Another 1/8 mile and I found myself stalling out in full view of neighbors who were bailing hay. As I pulled onto the farm they came over and asked if I needed help and brought over some fuel. My wife told them we were headed for ice cream and the farmer asked if she wanted a Klondike bar from the freezer. :D
 
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Man! You guys were lucky! Having all those "A"s around. The only As I was ever around were my Dad's cousin's two Mod AA farm trucks and they were nothing to rave about. And my cousin, Sammy wouldn't let me drive them except one or two times. It was 55' or 56' and I was aabout 11 or 12 years old and he didn't think I was old enough. He was five years older than I was and had a lot of fun lording it over me. The most memorable time was when the bailing wire let go and the door flew open and I landed next to a manure pile. But the Mod A's were pretty much off the roads by the late 50s here in NJ. We did have one guy, last name was Merklin, who had a grass cutting business and used his Mod T Roadster PU, to haul his lawn mowers around. It was a sight to see, he would always lead the "pack" up the road. He lived at the top of the hill. The old "T" would be doing no more than 20mph on a good day. The old guy had bought the "T" new and saw no reason to replace it. The teenagers around town wanted it badbut he wouldn't sell. I don't know what happened to it.
Terry
 
To make it short. 1930 Fordor. Friend was passenger. 8.20 tires on rear. Dirt driveway. Got revs. Popped clutch. Tires spun. Tires hit asphalt. Friend wore neck brace for two weeks afterward.
 
About 60 years ago when I was 12 years old, I had what we called a cut-down car. It was a Model A with only a cowl and a wooden seat. I would drive it around the farm and tinker with it. One day I did something wrong and my Father removed the distributor rotor button to ground me. I used a piece of rubber hose and some baling wire to make a rotor that put me back in business. He never said anything, either because he was proud of my fix or that I had gotten his goat as we say in the south. When I meet him up above I plan on asking him which it was.
Joe Young
Slapout, AL
 
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