In the fall of ’61 I got my U.S. Army draft notice, and signed up in the U.S. Marine Corps instead. Since I would be away for some time, I prepared the Fury for storage at Bill Berry’s shop, in the town just north of where I lived, which was also home to the Berry Brothers’ № 407 stock car. She remained in storage from mid October ‘61 until some time in the Spring of ’62 when I was in electronics school and later telephone-teletype school at MCRD (Marine Corps Recruit Depot) in San Diego. I managed to get a military air-hop to the east coast and home, then I returned to San Diego with the Fury. Upon graduation, I opted for my permanent duty station to be at MCAS (Marine Corps Air Station) in Cherry Point, North Carolina.
While stationed there, the Fury and I made liberty weekend runs home and to stock-car races in New York and Pennsylvania on a regular basis. In November 1963, I had the opportunity to take leave. The Fury’s 318 engine had grown tired, and the car’s original automatic transmission had previously been replaced by a 3-speed manual with a floor-mounted shifter from a ‘55 or ’56 Thunderbird.
While home previously, I had found and bought a complete used 383 engine and TorqueFlite 727 transmission in half of a 1962 Chrysler Saratoga with very low miles—just the front half of the car was there in the junkyard. During a 20-day leave beginning 1 November 1963, I replaced the Fury’s engine and transmission at Larry Landrine’s shop, where I had worked before (as described in COAL № 3). Larry and I remained friends, and he let me service my Fury there when I needed to during my years in the service. Because the Fury was not too old at the time, a complete exhaust system for a ‘58 Golden Commando 350 Fury was readily available, as well as other needed pieces like engine mounts. So the ’62 383 fit directly into the Fury with only one non-stock piece added: a 5″ × 5½” support plate for the rear transmission mount to attach to the Fury’s crossmember. I also logged notes—these records from just before the engine swap show I was averaging a little over 13.7 mpg, and the swap came together with the ’58 generator (and belt!); the ’62 starter and power steering pump and belt, and a radiator recore and reconfiguration for $40 (around $400 in 2023 dollars):
And this next photo shows me checking the 383 while back home after the first round trip to Cherry Point. Notice the scoop visible on the underside of the hood—that’s the mark of young vanity messing up a perfectly good, stock-looking car:
The Fury had become a people hauler; my fellow Marines were dropped off and picked up at 9th Avenue and 42nd Street in New York City during weekly swoops.
On Wednesday, 20 November, I returned to Cherry Point. On Friday the 22nd, President John F. Kennedy was shot in Dallas, Texas. On Saturday morning the 23rd, I and another Marine in my outfit headed for DC in my Fury. We had the privilege of attending the funeral procession that weekend after the shooting. Another car full of Marines accompanied us to DC, but on the way up, the other car broke down and had to be abandoned at a filling station somewhere in Virginia. Everyone piled into my Fury, and we made it in time for the ceremony and to stand at attention and salute as the procession passed by on Pennsylvania Avenue.
All the while, I was keeping up my logbook. 11.6 mpg for the first group and 13.7 mpg for the second group on this page, perhaps reflecting better mileage on the highway trip to see President Kennedy’s funeral procession. I boosted the oil pressure by shimming the oil pump pressure regulator spring; found № 5 spark plug a bit oil-fouled, and I added a quart of oil every 400 to 500 miles—engines aged more and faster back then. All the gasoline on this page added up to just under $38 sixty years ago, or about $375 in 2023 bucks:
On the return trip, the Fury ended up towing the broken-down car all the way to Cherry Point by a tow rope. I’m glad I was not in the other car, as we drove quickly through the night over dark North Carolina back roads. We were able to make it back by early Monday morning to stand tall at reveille. That Fury really got a workout during ‘62 through ‘64 with those weekly trips to NY/NJ!
In February of 1964 I bought tickets to the Daytona 500 at Daytona Speedway, and drove there with a friend in the Fury. It was a great time to be there to see Richard Petty win his first Daytona 500. While there, I was notified that my new 273/Hurst-shifted 4-speed 1964 Dodge Dart GT 2-door hardtop had been delivered to the McCrane dealership, and was ready for pickup. When we returned to Cherry Point from Florida, I made arrangements to get a pass to go pick it up legally. I drove the Fury home for the last time, and it was officially retired from active service in the USMC. Dad got to take care of the Fury and use it as his work car while mother continued driving the 56 Plymouth just a little longer. Here’s the only surviving picture of the ’64 Dart:
On 31 October 1964, I was honorably discharged from active duty in the Marine Corps, and returned to civilian life. Shortly before getting out, I’d sold the ’56 Plymouth to a Sergeant living off-base, and then my folks had only the ’58 Fury to drive around. I went back to work at McCrane Auto Company, which was now a Dodge dealer. The folks really liked my ’64 Dart, and looked at ’65s, but dad decided it would look too much like the 64; he didn’t want one that looked the same.
He’d been a housepainter in his earlier days, but for years had worked as a bartender on a cruise line traveling back and forth to South America. Once retired, he wanted to do some handyman-type work, so he needed a car which could carry a ladder long enough for second-story work. A Barracuda fit both requirements: it didn’t look just like the Dart, and he could potentially shove an extension ladder into it through the trunk with the rear seat folded down. I wanted them to buy one with the Commando 273 (4-barrel, high compression, etc), but dad overruled, saying mother didn’t need all that horsepower. So we opted for the 225 Slant-6 with TorqueFlite. She didn’t even get a radio or power steering, just an extra-cost Copper Metallic exterior.
But it was a Plymouth model, and I worked at a Dodge dealer. McCrane managed to get us the Barracuda through a Plymouth dealer in Paramus. I added a Sure-Grip differential and Goodyear Blue Streak tires on 14″ wheels to the order—and a little money to the down payment—as I had plans for those two items.
So on 27 April 1965, my mother officially owned a ’65 Barracuda (that same day was also the birthday of Carolynne Dell Parks—at the time I didn’t know she existed, but I married her at the end of ’65). The salesman who typed up the invoice made two errors: it should read Sure-Grip differential (not trans[mission]), and Goodyear Blue Streak (not whitewall) tires. That $2,505 price in 1965 is about $24,200 in 2023 dollars:
I immediately swapped the Barracuda’s 2.93 Sure-Grip rear axle and its 14″ wheels with Blue Streak tires into the ’64 Dart, since that was my main driver; the open diff and 13″ wheels were adequate for mother’s Slant-6 car. This pic taken decades later, after a great deal of refurbishment and upgrade to be described in a future chapter, will have to stand in, for there are no pics of the Barracuda from back then:
Back to the Dart: it did not remain as-delivered, mechanically. It came with the only V8 offered in ’64, the 180-horsepower 2-barrel 273. I turned it into something like (probably better than) the 235-horse 273 that came out in mid-’65 with 10.5:1 pistons and a Racer Brown ST-14 solid cam; the 4-barrel setup, and that loud, virtually-a-straight-pipe 2¼″ exhaust system—all of which I bought when I went back to McCrane’s after getting out of the Marines. Too bad, now, that I don’t even have one picture of the 273 as configured in that car! (also, after I got married, the 4-speed came out and a 904 TorqueFlite with ’65 floor shifter went in so my wife could drive it).
Now, this combo was hard on spark plugs—I had not yet discovered the Champion N5 race plugs, which were really cold compared to the stock N12 or N14 items.
So unless I had new plugs in the engine, we were not race-ready, so to speak. One Saturday afternoon I gave the engine a new set of N11s: still too hot a plug, but it would run fine for a couple of hundred miles.
On Saturday nights I would drive the hopped-up 4-speed Dart to upstate New York, to the stock car races at Middletown track, which was along the 2-lane divided highway that led east from Middletown itself to the New York Thruway. Frankie Schneider, known as “The Old Master”, was one of those who raced there weekly. After the races, this old guy in his new car would challenge anyone willing to take him on as he was heading home on highway 17. I had taken him on in another car in the past, with not such good results, but this night he came up on me just driving along, him in his new 1965 Plymouth Satellite with a wedge-head 426 engine. It was on! We began from about 70 mph; nailed it, and ran up until he backed off around 130. He took three tries at me, and each time I stayed right with him with my little 273 Dart—remember, I had 2.93 rear gears and a 4-speed, while he had a 727 TorqueFlite automatic with 3.23 rear gears. So he was turning a lot more RPM on his long-stroke 426 compared to my 273. It wasn’t as though I blew him away, but neither did he blow my Dart off, so it was a draw. And did I mention my Dart still had the factory 9″ drum brakes at all four wheels? It did.
On 16 July 1965, my best friend Butch and I left River Edge on a sightseeing trip around the United States in the Dart—call it a shakedown cruise for the hop-ups. We traveled through Pennsylvania; West Virginia; Ohio; Illinois; Missouri; Oklahoma; Texas; New Mexico; Arizona; Nevada; down through Needles, California on to the Salton Sea and San Diego. Then back north through Los Angeles and on to Yosemite; Reno, Nevada; Idaho Falls; Yellowstone; Cody; Gillette, Wyoming; the Black Hills of South Dakota; Davenport, Iowa; three turnpikes (Indiana; Ohio, and Pennsylvania), and on to Paramus, New Jersey and home by the 31st. It was a total of 8,290 miles, and the Dart averaged 16.5 mpg, burning 500 gallons of fuel. Little did I know this was the last time I would be a free person to take a trip like this!
On 10 May 1968, I took the Dart on a trip to Darlington, South Carolina to the spring NASCAR race. On 30 May, I left New Jersey with a full U-Haul trailer headed for Los Angeles via Saint Louis to pick up the wife and two kids who had left Lodi, New Jersey (where we lived)—my wife had left a note reading “If you want to see your kids again, you will come to St. Louis and pick us up and take us to California”. I should have charged her with kidnapping and crossing many state lines doing so!
On 19 June 1968 we all arrived in Los Angeles, soon found lodging, and I got myself a job as transmission mechanic at Wil-Mar Dodge on LaBrea Boulevard. By now the Dart had 41,000 miles showing. On 29 December 1970, with around 109,000 miles, the Dart was transferred by the divorce court to my ex-wife. Then, around 127,000 miles with her at the wheel somewhere in New Mexico, the Dart spun a rod bearing and towed back to LA, never to run again—dead in the back yard of Carolynne’s apartment on South Detroit Street.
A little earlier in 1970, on 8 September, I had purchased a 1963 Plymouth Belvedere station wagon. Its VIN was 3635121681, and it had 117,727 miles showing on the odometer; I bought it to use on weekends to haul my toolbox to various homes to do some auto repair work on the side. This car had originally been owned by the Petersen Company (misspelled with an “o” on the title), publishers of Hot Rod and MotorTrend Magazines, among many others.
This wagon was destined for the scrapyard, but for $125 I rescued it from the crusher. Each weekday I used it to drive my two older children to the Salvation Army daycare center, and then I drove on to work at The Auto Club of Southern California, at Figueroa & Adams in downtown LA. At the end of work, I’d pick up the kids and drive home. The worn-out 318 engine would smoke so badly while idling at a traffic light that the car behind was engulfed in blue smoke as I drove away.
I’m not done telling about the wagon; there’ll be more in the next chapter. For now I’ll just say I was fortunate to have it when the court awarded the Dart to my ex.
Oh, one other thing: I found a color photo of mother and me with the ’52 Coronet I described in Chapter 2. I’ll move it to that chapter, but you really should see it, so I want to show it here:
Previous chapters:
I’m really enjoying your articles, thanks! Some drag racing back then?
I am amazed at how well the body hung in there on your 58 Fury. Those cars were rusters, and with the time it spent in NY/NJ, it surely saw its share of brined roads. Also, I love the 383 conversion.
The Dart sounds like it was a great car too. Too bad about the circumstances that finished it off. And yes, that is a lovely picture of the old green Dodge there at the end.
Thanks for your comments, may I say that the Fury loved me and I loved it, so I took good care of it and if we had been out in bad weather, I would wash it off thoroughly underneath and in as many hidden crevices as possibly. I was very familiar with rust and standing under thawing cars on a lift at the dealership in the winter. Sone times if felt like dirty rain. LOL.
I use to do the undercoating at McCranes so that might be another clue.
Engine swaps and conversions have become my specialty as you will read as the COALs move on. This was the first and made me realize that it was easy to make improvements, still keeping it looking stock.
The Dart was greatly missed, but in making my escape, the Station Wagon was a better overall option. Though I had no choice! It will last through 3 wives and serve me very well. You’ll see.
Enjoyable reading. Thanks a lot!
First up, thank you for your military service. We have very different tastes in automobiles and I am not mechanically gifted. Loved the 58 Plymouth and 65 Baracuda. In summer of 62,parents traded our 55 DeSoto for 62 Belvedere much to my disappointment. 61 Plymouth was OK, but to me Plymouth didn’t provide a classy car until 67 VIP. But have to admit I prefer upscale luxury over performance. This is a great post. Very happy you survived military service and are living the good life!
I’ll answer this one Rick, you might have read that I left the DeSoto / Plymouth dealer for Landrine’s Shop in ’61 because I couldn’t stand working around those UGLY ’61 Plymouths. ’62 was weird looking but at least it was the beginning of a change that became one of the best ‘platforms’ for Chrysler built cars, the beginning of the ‘B’ body.
Maybe you’ve mentioned it and I just missed it, but I’m curious as to how you got the “Hemi” name? As a diehard Mopar guy (as if you couldn’t tell, LOL!) I’ve had experiences with some of the cars and engines that you mentioned. Although I never spent any time at MCAS “Cheerless Pit”, I did put in anumber of years at MCAS Yuma! Really enjoying your stories, Semper Fi! 🙂
When I worked at RIDGE DODGE in Woodridge. NJ [something I left out in earlier editions]. In 1966 Mr. McCrane retired and sold the business to Mr. Varley who renamed the place Valley Dodge. Due to some mismanagement, he went out of business and I took a 3 month try at a Cadillac Dealership at his suggestion. A very bad thing for a MOPAR guy to do! But one has to continue earning! Later I found a job at a Dodge dealer in Wood Ridge, NJ and there I got ‘tagged’ with the name one day by the Assistant Service Manager because HEMI is close to and shorter than HENNING, my real name, and we were selling HEMI engined Chargers then.
I’m wondering why you referred to Cherry Point as cheerless? Were you “Desert Rats” in Arizona jealous of our near ‘Beachfront’ location on the East coast? LOL
Personally I enjoyed being stationed there and was fortunate to get to go on a MEU which eventually took me to being a participant in the Cuban Blockade, an exciting part of history.
Appparently some people didn’t enoy it as much as you did, it was a humorous nickname that I heard often; having been in the Corps, you know that places tend to pick up nicknames; for example desert 29 Palms California, a.k.a. “29 Stumps” LOL!! 🙂
> (also, after I got married, the 4-speed came out and a 904 TorqueFlite with ’65 floor shifter went in so my wife could drive it).
I was faced with this situation too (albeit with a gf not wife) which I dealt with by teaching her to drive a stick. (my mechanical skills or lack thereof preclude transmission swaps)…
I can understand your situation. Not many people have the facility or the mindset to make such large changes, but I did it more for the preservation of the car than the new driver.
It’s amazing how much more convenient it is to tow that largest U-Haul trailer cross-country with such a relatively small car when you have an automatic transmission. Much of that cross country run was made in 2nd gear as well.
You saw that N-5 spark plug above, I actually got my 8 just slightly used from the PETTY Plymouth #43 at Darlington when I was there. They practiced the car with them in the HEMI, then replaced them with a new set for the race. I got the set of HOT used ‘practice’ ones. They worked flawlessly for the hard pull across country but began fouling the 2nd or 3rd day in Los Angeles city traffic. So they got replaced, but they did their job for Richard and for me. Yes, I’ve met and talked with Richard on many occasions. The longest at Level-Cross, at the shop.
Moparman; When I worked at RIDGE DODGE in Woodridge. NJ [something I left out in earlier editions]. In 1966 Mr. McCrane retired and sold the business to Mr. Varley who renamed the place Valley Dodge. Due to some mismanagement, he went out of business and I took a 3 month try at a Cadillac Dealership at his suggestion. A very bad thing for a MOPAR guy to do! But one has to continue earning! Later I found a job at a Dodge dealer in Wood Ridge, NJ and there I got ‘tagged’ with the name one day by the Assistant Service Manager because HEMI is close to and shorter than HENNING, my real name, and we were selling HEMI engined Chargers then.
I’m wondering why you referred to Cherry Point as cheerless? Were you “Desert Rats” in Arizona jealous of our near ‘Beachfront’ location on the East coast? LOL
Personally I enjoyed being stationed there and was fortunate to get to go on a MEU which eventually took me to being a participant in the Cuban Blockade, an exciting part of history.
I’m (only) a decade-ish younger, so it’s not too hard to recall the era—but while you were actually doing things like engine transplants, I was just reading about such projects and firms like “Racer Brown” in HOT ROD magazine. This is some great storytelling, enhanced by all the paperwork—a fun read today!
The engine ‘soup-up’ really turned out to be a little too much for a daily driver around LA. After we moved to California, the ST-14 cam came out and was replaced by the stock, original cam. The pistons and the exhaust stayed.
I’m into milder stuff now, but still innovating. Got to keep the brain juices flowing.
Another great chapter filled with so much history. Thank you!
Your rather meticulous record keeping illustrates a couple of things that interest me about inflation over time. Looking at how much you paid for gas in 1963 indicates that really, gas is not all that much more expensive today than it was 60 years ago. Maybe about 10% more depending on where you live (I pay $3.40/gal for regular in 2023 dollars).
But, the price of things like cars are quite a bit higher. As you point out, that Barracuda would only be $24,000 in 2023 dollars, and yet at $2500 (1965 dollars) it was just about at the average price of a new car back then. Now, the average price of a new car is $40,000 – $50,000 (2023 dollars). Even though it’s possible to find a new car today for $24,000, it’s pretty clear that that $24,000 car is far from average.
There of course are lots of reasons for that, but suffice to say that at least for me, I’d rather have a 1965 Barracuda (60 years ago, or today) than the 2023 Corolla that my $24,000 could get me today. Particularly if I had to carry a ladder in it.
Terrific post. Your stuff is must-read, Hemi. Thanks, man.
I enjoy reading all your comments, even the ‘financial’ ones even though they are depressing. I remember saying that if gas got higher than $ .35 a gallon, I would QUIT driving.
Well, I’m still behind the steering wheel at $3.50 and higher. Goes to show you, and me!
I was blessed with having a mind for mechanics, some times I can hardly read due to a degree of dyslexia. I was told I got it from my dad and my son has gotten it from me, my son is quite creative in his own way.
Good telling of better stories .
-Nate
Fascinating reading, Hemi – can’t wait to see how the Belvedere outlasts 3(!) more wives!
Just sit back, #2 is just around the corner, actually right next door….
i had great fun reading your stories Hemi and especially identified w/your Dart. Mine was a ’66 acquired Fall of ’74 for $400. It had the solid-lifter 273 w/a Carter AFB, a Mallory dual-point and a good ol’ three on the tree. Never knew the axle ratio, i later wrecked it then morphed into a ’65 Barracuda…
Will look for #2.