(posted at the Cohort by Staxman)
Maybe I should start a series of the cars of my Boy Scout troop leaders. The memories made riding in them on our monthly weekend camping trips certainly left an impression, especially when crammed into the little back seat of a ’65 Futura coupe exactly like this one with two other boys and two more in the front along with Mr. O’Neill on the way home after three days without a bath of any sort, sooty and smoky from burning our meals over an open fire, and hung over from way too little sleep. We were desperate to get home, clean up and sleep it off. But no.
Mr. O’Neill sees a little country Catholic church, pulls the Falcon into the lot, and makes us march in and go to mass, despite our filthiness, morally and physically. I only remember the looks of the parishioners vaguely, as I kept nodding off. And then we crammed back into the little Falcon for the endless ride home. I should hate this Falcon.
Why did Mr. O’Neill, the President of a successful embroidery patch factory who owned a beautiful big house and had the most elaborate Lionell train setup in the basement I’d ever seen, drive a Falcon Futura with a little six and three speed manual? I do know he had been a Marine, and was lean and tough, unlike his poor long-suffering son who was the polar opposite. I used to feel so sorry for Dennis.
We were a big well-run troop, with numerous patrols and a number of assistant scoutmasters, but none were like Mr. O’Neill, who dragged us out of our sleeping bags at the crack of dawn every morning for calisthenics (Chop! chop!). Meanwhile the other scoutmasters, a rather relaxed bunch, were still snoozing in their tent.
The only consolation was that Mr. O’Neill was a rather brisk driver, despite his car. He made that little 170 six bleat as he put the spurs to it. Maybe it had the 200, but in any case, he built up quite a head of steam on those undulating Appalachian country roads and highways. I just remember the constant bobbing and swaying as he scooted along, making it impossible to sleep. Maybe that’s why he drove that way. Of course the Falcon had a pretty hefty load on its mushy suspension and little 13″ tires, given the six of us and a trunk jammed full of back packs.
Speaking of, I have vivid memories of unpacking my official Boy Scout back pack after our monthly weekend camping trips, which always started with a 5 mile hike in, typically along a country road. Country folk sitting on their front porches got quite an eye load as a troop of some 40 or so Boy Scouts came trudging along the dark country road in front of their houses on Friday night. People would come out of their houses and stare at us, as if we were an invading army. Well, Troop 750 was about as militaristic as it got.
The contents of the pack reeked, were filthy, and everything was just jammed together in wads. The real fun was trying to clean the aluminum mess kit, having reduced several meals to mostly carbon in the thin frying pan or cooking pot. Of course I didn’t get around to that until about Tuesday or Wednesday, after I had slept it all off and caught up on my eating.
Yet despite it all, I can muster a few good memories, even riding in the back of the O’Neill-mobile.
Troop 727 here. I remember long drives in the back of a Cutlass Supreme (assistant Scoutmaster Jay), a Buick Regal Turbo (!) (assistant Scoutmaster that looked like Gerald McRaney) and a Ford Bronco (no idea who), all of around the very late 70’s and early 80’s vintage. Of course always followed by the same 5-mile hike, but usually with a desert theme backdrop in SoCal and then an enduring memory of Dinty Moore Beef Stew on the campfire.
No forced mass on the way home, thank goodness, but lots of tiredness as well. And the filth!
“Why did Mr. O’Neill, the President of a successful embroidery patch factory, drive a Falcon Futura with a little six and three speed manual?”
Some folks who have a few bucks are frugal when it comes to their personal vehicle. Ken Olsen, founder and president of Digital Equipment Corporation, was worth millions and drove a Ford Pinto to work. Sam Walton of Walmart fame was quite wealthy and drove an old pickup truck.
Being anonymous is a great luxury that many rich people can’t buy at any price. Driving a Falcon does put you in the running for going unnoticed though.
This might explain it.
I was a relatively short-timer in Troop 483. Scoutmaster Ted King was a high school science teacher and drove a terribly beaten up and worn down 1969 Ford Cortina. This was in about 1971, which taught me all I needed to know about the stamina of British cars in American conditions. His wife’s 66 Dart was much more robust.
Among the cars of the assistants were the red 67 Ford Country Sedan, the orange 57 Bel Air and the pale blue VW squareback. Ours was a pretty relaxed troop with no ex-marines anywhere in sight.
There’s one area where you’ve got my childhood beat Paul. I never did any weekend trips with Boy Scouts, my parents were quite strict on what could and could not be done on Sundays.
Maybe if they knew our Scoutmaster would be dragging us off to mass that would have helped.
I really like 65 Falcons though, my favourite elementary school teacher drove one. Mr Roy understood my awkwardness and sense of humour, unlike Miss Murdoch who told my parents I was bound for prison. 🙂
My scoutmaster (in the mid-1950’s) was a lazy character who was big on the activities that his sons were interested in. He drove a maroon 1942 Plymouth 4-door sedan that had a kink in the speedometer cable, so that at low speeds the color of the area behind the speed indicator would repeatedly jump through green, yellow, red and back again.
I got occasional rides home from high school, which involved crossing the SF Bay Bridge, in this same generation Falcon coupe, brown not blue. The driver was a family friend, an immigrant from Eastern Europe (when the Iron Curtain was still very much intact). I remember it had an automatic, and his freeway driving style involved leaning forward and clutching the wheel, and modulating the gas pedal just enough to hold a fairly steady speed, but with torque converter slip causing noticeable RPM cycling. I didn’t have my license yet, but I pitied the transmission, not to mention his gas bill.
I have memories of this generation of Falcon too. For a while I carpooled with three smokers in a maroon 1964 4-door wagon with an aftermarket 3-speed floor shift. I drove it a couple of times and found that it was really difficult to double-clutch into first gear – more so than other American 3-speed transmissions I’d experienced. I ended up resigning from the carpool when I figured out that all the cigarette smoke was affecting my health.
I’ve always loved this generation Falcon and the Mercury 202/404 equivalents.
If I WAS rich, I’d have one today. Especially in 200/3 speed/2 door post stripper spec – too cool!
Let’s see: Was this or the 1966 models the last of the linear body lined Falcons? I never paid much attention to the Falcon until it gained a set of rear hips, and it looked very curiously like a Mustang, which it was underneath!
Nice looking car just the same.
actually the Mustang was a Falcon underneath, as was the Maverick and Granada – hence their limitations
1965 was the last year of the linear body lined Falcon’s, 1966 was the year of the Coke bottle styling Falcon’s.
Thanks, I thought it was the 1967 models, but didn’t bother to look it up.
Our troop typically borrowed the church vans from the church that sponsored us for our camping trips. They had two, a late 1970s Ford Club Wagon and a mid-1980s Dodge Ram 15 passenger van. Part of the agreement was that we had to clean the vans before returning them, both inside and out. That always sucked, being tired and just wanting to go home but having to clean the van.
One of the parents had an early 80s Econoline conversion van that also got used sometimes. That was the vehicle everyone wanted to ride in — it had captains chairs, a table, and a TV in the back!
The worst one, though was carpooling to summer camp with one of the other parents and his son and having to sit in the back seat of his ’84 Celica hatchback. That back might be acceptable for smaller kids, but any older and it’s impossible to sit up without your head hitting the rear glass.
In Sweden Ford Falcon Futura are quite popular… in classic rally:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0SmwoZXkbcE
Troop 99 here. Our best scout master was Doc Taub. Podiatrist by trade, he was also a character who’s son was the polar opposite. First drove green 75 Polara which blew an engine soon after he took over the troop. Traded it in for a brand new 78 Aspen Brougham sedan. Silver with a silver vinyl roof and deep burgundy cloth interior. A real stunner.
Troop 93. Mr. Graves, longtime Scoutmaster, was absolutely wonderful. I did not appreciate it at the time but we were incredibly lucky to have such a dedicated leader. Assistant scoutmasters came and went and I recall most were good too. We had a campground just outside town so various parents would drive us.
Several of us went on to Explorer Scouting where Mr. Barron was our leader. He was also really good. He took five of us on a two week camping trip to three places in south Texas. Could not have had a better time. Some of friends from the Army had ranches where we camped. We were in a 1958+- Rambler wagon pulling a pretty good sized trailer. As with the Falcon there were three boys in the back seat and two boys plus Mr Barron up front. Cozy!
As soon as we got home he traded the wagon for a 1962 Rambler convertible. I now think that he was holding on to the station wagon just for our trip. As of a few years ago the convertible was still in the family.
Hmm. In my younger scout years as a Cub Scout (vĺča – Slovak for a small wolf) we had used almost exclusively our legs to transport us, or rely on public transport. Our trips had been done mostly around our village (5-15km) and that meant no need for cars.
Later, when I started attending camps, vehicle that was chosen for drinking water delivery was a small Renault Clio with 1.5 diesel engine. I had driven it once, 3 years ago, when we were getting back to camp and our patrol leader let us drive. I almost burned the clutch 😀 (in driving school I burned the clutch in an intersection in a steep hill, the car had no more than 2000 km, instructor was only laughing). The car was not so memorable, apart from 5th gear must have been shifted diagonally and from a Coca Cola explosion inside, when we were coming back from store with groceries. We were so afraid that the owner – our assembly leader – would be angry that we spent a lot of time cleaning. A few years later, we noticed a brown uncleaned stain. Oops!
And for our patrol trips or trips in cooperation with our peer girl patrol we used our leader’s parents Mazda 5. It seated seven people and still had some power, with 145 HP. He lent me it once to run an errand. More than 10 years, 440K+ kms. The shifting was so smooth! I was insta-shocked. Later he bought a Toyota Aygo, in which I drove the whole street from home to local culture center in reverse. A funny car, when there’s only driver present 😀
26th troop of St. Cyril and Methodius, Výčapy Opatovce (Slovakia). Proud member for almost 11 years now.
The Futura models had some very attractive full wheel covers (as well as tri-spinner wire wheel covers) available in 1964 & 1965.
Those 1971 Pinto wheel covers do nothing for this car’s appeal.
In the early ‘70s, our local scoutmaster took my oldest brother’s troop from our small Ohio town to the Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico.
His car, a 1970-ish Chevrolet Greenbrier wagon. I remember seeing them off and being fascinated with the little step built into the rear bumper.
(Image from Wikipedia.)
Funny, but I can’t tie one Cub/Boy Scout memory to any vehicle whatsoever. That said, I enjoyed Paul’s tale a lot today!
Anytime I see one a ’64-’64 Falcon I think of Ford’s rally ventures. Yeah, I know they had heavier-duty parts from Galaxie/T-Bird/whatever, but it’d be fun to duplicate one of these, even if it’d be un-ideal for everyday driving:
Tawny sixer, 6th St Kilda pack here. Like you, I can’t remember any vehicles we went in – though I do remember the old Fiat 500 in the kids’ playground next door!
During my short time in Cubs I remember two cars. Mr Watson drove a black and red 66 Chrysler Windsor which had a ton of room to pack kids, kits and whatever else was needed. Mr and Mrs Howard were just starting out in life which may explain why they had the worlds ugliest 71 Chevelle. It was a stripper sedan with a green rubber interior, green roof and a goldish-yellow paint job. Even at that young age I questioned if it had been repainted as I didn’t believe they actually MADE cars that colour!
They were a super nice couple and I have fond memories of them but I still can’t look at a 71 Chevelle without that car popping in my head.
Cub Scout denmother went from an early (dark green, amber rear turn signals) Omnirizon, the first of several L-body Mopars in my early life culminating with a stint of ownership of an ’81 Omni Miser, to a Jeep Wagoneer of about the same age which was the only fullsize Jeep I’ve ever been in. Scoutmaster had a Fairmont wagon at first then a four-eyed Cavalier wagon.
I always thought the ’64-5 Falcon looks better as a post sedan, either two or (preferably) four doors; the hardtop’s greenhouse is just too small and throws off the proportions of the car. I wonder how much space it actually gives up.
If one buys a 2 door hardtop I wonder if maximum interior space utilization is that high of a priority?
Our cub scout troop had the choice of a ’63 Buick Wagon or a ’57 Chevy Nomad. My cub scout membership explained part of mom’s “thing” with T-Birds- “they’ll never call to ask me to drive the troop to Jamoree.”
But- Troop 587 here. Scoutmaster had a Tahoe and a Ford P/U, Asst. Scoutmaster (moi) had a Suburban, a Ford PU, and a VW Camper. Three other Asst. Scoutmaster’s had either a Suburban or a Ford PU. We were dialed.
Great idea for a story, I think my scoutmasters had a 1976-78 Falcon and a Valiant station wagon from the same era or slightly earlier. The Falcon I think was the 250 six and the Valiant had the 245, I think with a 3 on the tree and bench seat. They were a real tank of a thing. The Valiant was a darker, bottle green type colour than the photo attached.