My dad, an accountant, had always bought Chevies, and fairly low content Bel Aires at that. Then during a Chicago snowstorm in 1967, he and my mom brought home this beautiful turbine bronze Plymouth Fury III convertible- his “midlife crisis” car, I guess.
Not a Sport Fury, and only a 318, but what a beauty. It became my high school graduation present in 1973. Wish I’d kept it. By the way, his occasional love of ragtops would crop up now and then- his final car was a Mustang convert, purchased when he was 90!
I love that picture. It tells…a thousand words. 🙂
Thanks, Paul!
Sounds like your dad truly appreciated cars. The lack of rust on a 7-year-old car in Chicago says the same thing. Awaiting a longer story! (COAD?)
I always thought that these Plymouths looked tough. I still have a hard Cover book called “Fix Your Plymouth” that features a Plymouth like our feature car on the cover.
My own first car was a 67 Galaxie 500 convertible, but if your car had turned up on my Great One-Day Car Hunt, I belive I would have chosen it instead. The Turbine Bronze paint over the light green I got would have made up for the 318 under the hood. I’m not sure a 318 would have been much of a downgrade from the 2 bbl/regular gas 390 I had.
The 67 is Peak Plymouth in my mind.
Slight color correction to your photo.
Nicely done!
I called my ’67 Sport Fury Fast Top Coupe “The Reaper.”
Ya know, after a certain song that needed more cowbell…it was a new song when I owned that Fury.
383, white bucket seats, Transaudio AM radio. Paid $200 for it.