I’ve always liked Ford’s original two seat Thunderbird. It was a cool car to see at car shows and imagine tooling around in with a pretty girl next to you on the bench seat. I never suspected, though, that I would ever get to live that fantasy. Then one day, in a most unexpected way, I did, and even got paid for the pleasure. Since I recently wrote the CC article on Thunderbirds in the Scottsdale auctions, I figured it would be a good time to tell the story of how, for a time, I had the privilege of being the caretaker to a trio of Thunderbirds; a ’55, a ’56 and a ’57.
All photos are of the actual cars, I apologize some aren’t the best quality.
My wife, Wendy, used to work part time for a pleasant retired woman named Judy as a chauffeur/companion, driving her to doctors, shopping, lunch or whatever she needed. Judy had been partially paralyzed by Polio as a child. She used to drive cars with hand controls, but had given that up in retirement as it was harder for her to get around. Wendy would go out a couple days a week or more to Judy’s home, then they would drive Judy’s Lexus LS all over Houston. Judy was married to Harold, who owned and ran an industrial galvanizing company. They were pretty wealthy. They didn’t start out that way when they got married, but as Harold built his small company into a successful large company, they both remained pretty down-to-earth people.
’55 Thunderbird with its ever-present battery charger
One day Judy and Wendy were chatting and Wendy mentioned that I liked old cars. Judy said, “Oh, he would probably really like Harold’s Thunderbirds”. Shortly after that, I got a call from Harold. He said he’d heard I like classic cars and that he had a few. He asked me if I had any experience working on cars, to which I replied definitely not in any professional capacity, just taking care of my own cars and doing some occasional wrenching on them.
He said he was looking for someone to maintain his car collection for him. This would involve coming out regularly and driving the cars, keeping them fueled and ready to drive, oil changes, washing, etc, but not necessarily any actual mechanic work. They could be taken to a shop for that. He offered a reasonable wage and I thought that sounded like a pretty good deal and a fun job, so how could I say no? I started in the spring of 2010.
Harold had for a number of years owned his lifelong dream cars: a complete set of the first three years of Thunderbirds. I never got the whole story on the cars’ backgrounds, but he had had them all restored by a professional who specialized in T-Birds (who had recently died, unfortunately).
I could come out whenever I wanted to do my thing. I sometimes came out every couple of weeks, but occasionally it would stretch to over a month. My goal was to drive the cars at least once a month, which I usually succeeded at. I was under strict orders not to drive them in the rain, and slightly less strict orders to stay in their rather large neighborhood of estate homes, except to get gas.
The neighborhood restriction wasn’t as bad as it sounds, because I could get up to about 50mph on straight aways and drive at least 5 miles with only a handful of intersections to stop at. It would take me a minimum of an hour to drive all three cars enough to get fully warmed up and an adequate amount of exercise, though longer would be better if I had the time.
This job was an eye-opening immersion into the realities of old car ownership. I learned that those pretty cars sitting at car shows or auctions don’t keep themselves clean or running well. They may look perfect, but that doesn’t mean they work perfectly.
The most challenging part of the job was starting the cars, as funny as that may sound. They could be pretty resistant to starting, even if only sitting for a couple of weeks. The red 1955 was the worst. These cars were all restored to enter competitive shows, so they had no modifications to enhance function. 1955 was the last year Ford used 6 volt electrical, so that’s what Harold’s ’55 had to crank its 292cid V8. I’ve heard people say that 6 volt can work just fine, but that was not my experience with this car. It always needed at least a few minutes on the battery charger. It ran very smoothly, but when cold it would sometimes die when put in gear. Most of the time, that meant that if I pulled it out of the garage and it died, I had to get a long extension cord and put the battery charger on it again. Needless to say, I gave that one generous warm up time, especially in the winter.
The buckskin ’56 had the 312 4-barrel engine, which thankfully had 12 volt electrical. I kept a trickle charger on all the cars, so the ’56 generally had no problem cranking. The ’55 and ’56 had the same design Holley carburetor, which wasn’t designed to prevent evaporation. After sitting for a couple weeks, there was no fuel in the carb. Spraycan starter fluid can gum up carburetors over time, so Harold didn’t want me to use it, which I totally agreed with even though the can worked much better than my system of pouring a little gas down the carb.
Overall, the ’56 had the best combination of starting ease and running well. When Harold took a car out to drive, that was the one he usually took. I think it was his favorite. It was also the only one with two tops. He left the fender skirts off, I’m not sure why, except that he liked the look (just on that one? I never pushed him for an explanation).
Harold had entered the cars in competitive shows when they were first restored. By the time I was taking care of them, he was not so particular about small things, like the discolored carpet in the ’56 (from a heater core leak, which I replaced). The radios quit working on all the cars, and the clocks on the ’56 and ’57. If the cars needed something to actually run right, he was fine with fixing that, but wasn’t worried about the small stuff. He just wanted them clean and maintained.
I found myself being the cars’ advocate at times. The garage, which was an older structure away from the house, had A/C but after I’d been there a couple years, the unit broke and needed replaced. I tried to convince him that it was worth the trouble to get it fixed, because the super humid weather of southeast Texas would work to deteriorate the cars over time. I never could get him to fix it, I think because he had a grand plan to build a whole new garage.
My personal favorite was the ’57. I think the styling revisions were spot on and I love the colors on this car. This car also had the 4-barrel 312 “Thunderbird Special” engine.
Another idiosyncrasy of Harold’s was that he didn’t want the tops lowered. T-birds have manual tops and they’re not the easiest to operate. He rarely bothered to put them down himself and I think he felt I wasn’t “top certified” to operate them, so he just told me when I started to leave them up. Which I did, except for one time. After a few years, I just couldn’t resist, so after washing the ’57 one day I put the top down and took these photos. I also took my wife out in the cars a couple times, but never with the top down, so I didn’t ever get to live the full fantasy.
The cars were each equipped a little differently. The ’55 had power windows and seat, the ’57 had power windows, but not seat and the ’56 had neither. The ’55 had power brakes and steering, the ’56 had power steering but not brakes and the ’57 had power brakes but not steering.
Leg room was not generous for a 6 foot 2 inch driver like myself. Getting in, with the low roof and large steering wheel, it worked best to sit down with both feet on the ground first, then swing my legs around under the wheel (like a lady in a dress. Less wear and tear on the carpet, too). I couldn’t stretch my legs fully, but there was ample knee room, so it wasn’t bad. My eye level was just at the top of the tiny side windows, so side visibility was limited and the tiny driver-side-only mirror didn’t help greatly. The portholes in the ’56 hardtop are actually a functional improvement.
As far as driving the cars, it goes without saying that they handled much differently than a modern car. They all had reproduction Firestone bias plys, so cornering was not their strong suit. The ride was similar in all three, smooth but a little choppy. Body rigidity was minimal. Lots of lean in the corners with just a little tire squeal if you got a bit speedy. Power was pretty good. The 1-2 shift was a bit rough, especially when cold.
Brakes were plenty adequate for normal driving, but I don’t think I’d want to push them too hard. The manual brakes in the ’56 weren’t a problem at all. It had a bit more pedal effort, but not bad. The power steering in the ’55 and ’56 was extremely light, as you’d expect. I liked the manual steering in the ’57. With a 3,200 lb car, it was hard to turn when still or moving extremely slow, but with almost any speed it would lighten right up. When driving at speed, it felt a lot more connected. In addition, I’d choose that also just because it would be one less thing to leak or fail. The ’55’s power steering leaked. In fact, they all leaked oil and rear axle fluid, especially the ’55 .
The ’57 was the easiest to start, by far, which was another reason I was fond of it. The ’57’s had a different design Holley carb which retained fuel inside it much better. If sitting for only a couple weeks, it often didn’t even need a prime. If it did, just a little bit of gas down the carb and it would always start right up. Unfortunately, it was also the worst runner, by far. Once the ’55 and ’56 got running, they would immediately settle into a smooth idle. The ’57 needed a foot on the gas constantly for the first several minutes, though I did set the idle higher to allow it to idle on its own sooner. I thought it was missing on at least one cylinder. You couldn’t even put it in gear without it dying until it warmed up some, and then for a while you had to keep it moving or put it in neutral, because it didn’t like to idle in gear. Once it had been driven a couple miles and got good and truly warmed up, it didn’t run badly. It could be driven normally and it actually felt like it had the most power of the three.
Several months into the job, I convinced Harold that the ’57 needed professional attention. The problem was that the mechanic he had been using, who was also the cars’ restorer, had died and he hadn’t found another one. Harold and Judy lived about as far out as you can go and still be considered to be in the Houston area and I couldn’t find any shops nearby that did classic cars. I did find a shop about 30 min away, by my house, that always had about half the shop filled with all variety of cool old cars and hot rods. I talked Harold into letting me take the car home so we could get it into the shop. That is the ’57 parked in my garage. It looks good in there, doesn’t it?
The shop took the car in and the owner told me they couldn’t find anything wrong with it. The ignition and compression were both fine. He said it just needed to go on some longer drives to get the carbon blown out. I told him that we didn’t mind spending money on it if it would help (it’s nice not having to use your own money). He said just try the driving and go from there. I was a little frustrated. I wanted them to rebuild the carb, or replace the distributor or, God forbid, crack open the engine and work on the valves. Something that would give an instant fix! Oh well. Harold agreed that I could take it out F.M. 2920 on some longer drives. It did help some, but it was not a silver bullet. I was never really happy with how it ran.
I actually appreciated the shop owner’s attitude of not wanting to do work he thought the car didn’t need. I’ve taken my own car there since. They’re not cheap, but they seem real honest and have stood by their work when they could have refused to, so that’s been a good thing.
Most every fall, Harold would enter one of the cars in the Tomball Rice Festival car show, and ask me to get whatever car he was going to take clean and detailed. About the fifth year I did this, I came out to the cars not long after the show and he was out working on something in the yard (I could go months without seeing him sometimes). We chatted and he told me all about the show and some of the other cars there. About a week later we got news that Harold and Judy had been down at their hunting ranch in South Texas, as they often were on weekends. Harold was out doing some work on the land and had a massive stroke, and died that day in the hospital. He was 78, but still running his company and a very active guy. The funeral was large and a touching tribute to the great life that Harold and Judy had together.
At first Judy said she wanted to keep the cars in Harold’s memory, but after a few months wisely decided that was not practical. She had a family friend who also had some classic cars take on the task of getting the cars sold. Wendy kept in touch with Judy, but hadn’t been driving her for a couple of years. Harold was Judy’s life and she visibly slowed down and lost her spark when he wasn’t around any more. She passed away less than two years after Harold.
I was sad that Harold passed, but I have to confess that I was somewhat glad not to have the job anymore. I usually felt like it was hard to make the time for the cars on top of my job and other things I had to do, especially when we got kids, which we didn’t have when I first started. I never did as much detailing or driving as I thought the cars deserved. I would have liked to use the opportunity to really learn engines, and carburetors in particular, and be able to get the cars in a perfect state of tune. I just felt like I was doing well to find the time to do the basics, let alone anything ambitious.
I feel privileged to have gotten to spend time with these beautiful cars. They did give me a good appreciation of what is involved in keeping a classic car, which I still want to do someday.
P.S. In preparing to sell the cars, the family friend replaced the ’55’s starter and said it didn’t have any problems starting after that. I never thought of that. I replaced the battery a couple times, the regulator and took the generator in to be tested and nothing helped it. It would have been nice to get that ironed out five years earlier! Live and learn.
What a wonderful experience you had. Sorry to hear of Harold and Judy’s passing.
How fascinating that he had three cars of the same generation, each specified in a slightly different way. I agree with you, the ’57 is the looker of the bunch… not a fan of buckskin or continental kits and this is a car that can really pull off white.
Sorry to hear you never got them running perfectly but still, to be a caretaker for three classic cars without having to bear really any financial responsibility sounds pretty sweet.
I echo your thoughts William. It’s a lovely story although a little bittersweet I guess. The nice thing is that the author and Harold parted ways on good terms. I can see how situations like this could easily go south for various reasons…but it evidently was a perfect fit for both parties.
Wow, this is the kind of experience most of us here only get to dream about. But as with everything, the reality is never as glamorous as the vision and you have shown us that such was the case here.
Isn’t it funny how three cars that are so much alike can have such divergent personalities. But then I suspect that many of us have experienced this a time or two.
I am curious about one thing – you note that the 1-2 shift in the automatic was rough. I thought the Ford-O-Matic of that era started in second gear in normal driving. Was it different in Thunderbirds? Studebaker used a version of this transmission after 1955 and I have read that those used a second gear start partly because an automatic 1-2 shift was considered too abrupt.
And is that a 50 Ford on the far end?
Yeah, I spotted that too….
Yes, it’s a 50! I didnt mention that one to keep the story from getting too long. Basically, it never ran while I was there. It wasn’t officially part of my responsibilities. Harold did invite me to try to get it running and I tinkered around with it a bit, but couldn’t get that flathead to fire up. Like the tuning of the t-birds, it was something I would have liked to work on more, but never invested the time in. I just kept the tires inflated and occasionally dusted it off. He never said how long he’d had it, but I got the feeling it was forever.
He had a 72 Tempest convertible they’d had since the 70’s when I first started. I would have liked to take over care on that one, but he gave it too his son shortly after and I never saw it again.
JPC writes “…the reality is never as glamorous as the vision …”.
Indeed. I was already a car crazy kid when these came out and they were (to me) dream cars that were almost perfect miniatures of their full sized siblings. Even the T-Bird engine call out of the full size Ford sedan (below) gave that relatively ordinary sedan a vision of power and glamour.
As we have often written on this site, old cars are emotional milestones of our past lives, with the high points of make, model, and year tied to our date of birth and country of origin.
Emotional and interesting, but the reality is these, and most other “classics”, would be terrible and troublesome grocery getters and daily drivers.
Of course, I would still love to have the opportunity to drive one of these T-Birds.
Honestly, I’m not sure what the transmissions were supposed to do. It seemed to me that they started off in first because I counted two shifts. The first shift out of the driveway was always the roughest, and they had high rpms for the slow speed until that shift so I assume it was first gear. It did seem that they wouldn’t kick down into first unless the car was at a complete stop. And the shift wasn’t as harsh after the car was fully warmed up.
I know that it was possible to get that unit to use all 3 gears as some of the Studebakers started doing that by the early 60s. It would not surprise me that a transmission rebuilder elected to build them to start in 1st gear. I think you got to experience why Ford and Studebaker (and Borg-Warner) decided to eliminate that 1-2 shift.
When I was a very small child, my father (who knew he had a budding car nut in his hands) told me had a friend with a sports car that I might like to see. The friend would be by our house saturday and he might even let me sit in it. The friend stopped by that weekend driving a 55 or 56 Thunderbird. I will always think that these cars look terrific. Yet, being only about 5 or 6 years of age I was incredibly shy and nothing would get me in that car with a someone I had never seen before.
Of Harold’s cars I think I would prefer the 55. The 57 just sort of comes across as the older/more mature sister of the girl you finally got the nerve to ask out on a date. Part of you thinks the older sister is more of a knock out, but part of you says the younger sister is more your “speed”.
Really cool experience and absolutely CC worthy! I think the scenario of a rich collector handing over the keys to an exotic car collection is a fantasy in the back of the mind of many readers here. It sounds like Harold picked the right guy – you strike me as a compassionate enthusiast, which is exactly who was needed to shepherd these T-birds. The news at the end of Harold and his wife’s passing is sad, but it serves as a reminder that nothing is forever and that you can’t take your toys with you, so you have to enjoy them while you can!
My favorite would be the white Caprice wagon in your garage. I miss mine.
Mine too! I dont have that Caprice anymore, but I do have a 96 Roadmaster wagon.
Nice! I miss my dark cherry metallic 95 Roadmaster wagon as well. I hardly see b body wagons anymore.
What a wonderful story, told with empathy for the owners and showing great consideration for the cars. It has a bit of the flavor of “Driving Miss Daisy,” in its detailing of the progression of time. I had a great experience with first-generation T-Birds as a child. In 1955, when I was all of seven years old, a close family friend who always had interesting cars (he once showed up with a white ’46-’48 Lincoln Continental) came over with a brand-new light aqua T-Bird with the soft-top up. He took my Dad and me for a ride, with me sitting between the seats. The next year, another family friend (and golfing buddy of my Dad) came over with a new 1956 Black T-Bird with porthole top and black and white interior. Before he took me for a ride, he buckled me into the passenger seat. It was the first time that I had ever worn (or even seen) a seat belt. A year or so later, my Dad and the owner of the ’56 went golfing together, with the hardtop left at his house. Apparently his car didn’t have the softtop, as they got caught in a downpour and came back to my house soaking wet!
Beautiful story, beautiful cars. My mom had a ’57 when I was a toddler- some things you never forget.
The Thunderbirds, which I have always liked and know somewhat, drew me into the story. The caring for the cars is the meat of it that I enjoyed.
An ideal lifestyle for a now retired car nut is exactly as the writer described. Battery tender; new tires; tinker with the carbs; wash & wax; get the old radio working; drive on the weekend or to an occasional show; cars ‘n coffee. This is the life for a non-golf, non-tennis retired person. Actually, for me. I do bicycle a lot but it is not as interesting or captivating as simply taking care of several cars.
Could say more, but I’ve got to go out and drive my ’92 300E this morning.
What a neat story and experience. Sounds like you and your wife both did a great job for Harold and Judy. Thank you for sharing!
Maintaining three vintage autos is no easy task, and especially doing it for someone else. The cars will deteriorate over time just sitting there and they really need to be driven regularly. As you say, they don’t keep themselves cleaned or maintained.
I currently take care of four specialty/collector cars, one of which is mine (2013 Boss 302 Mustang) and three of which I co-own with a friend (2000 Ferrari 550 Maranello, 1995 Porsche 933 Carrera coupe, 1970 Porsche 911 “S/T” vintage racer).
Of the four the ’13 Boss 302 is the easiest to maintain as it’s the newest and most maintenance-free, befitting a modern American car. Of the other three the ’70 911 S/T has actually been the easiest to maintain, although it’s driven the least often. The 993 gets driven the most followed by the Ferrari which, maybe surprisingly, has thus far been pretty reasonable to maintain (although I spend the by far the most time of all the cars trying to keep it immaculately clean).
On average I probably spend around 12-14 hours or so per month driving (at least 30 minutes per car per month…I have several usual routes that I take), cleaning and generally maintaining these four cars. This is apart from taking one of them to, say, a coffee & cars event, a long drive, or car show of some sort, which is the fun part of the whole deal.
This could well be my favorite story that I’ve read here in the five or six years I’ve been a CC reader. Hopefully the T-birds found new homes with someone who will continue to drive them. As others have pointed out, just letting an older car sit without being driven is the worst thing one can do. Thank you for sharing this story.
Thanks for the kind words!
Articles like this keep me coming back to CC.
What a great experience. Good on Harold for knowing that they needed exercise.
+1.
That would have been a cool job, old cars do need exercise mine gets a run usually every week though it will stand for up to three months while I’m away working, then the starting can take more time filling the carb with the priming lever on the fuel pump and jumper leads is about as hard as it gets though, the reliable Lucas electrical system has yet to fail, touch wood, its so simple theres nothing to go wrong anyway.
A sweet story today, JON1790—thanks for putting it together for us. I can only dream of a garage (or contents) like that, but cars do indeed need to be looked after.
Oh, and I’ve always had a soft spot for these T-birds, being just old enough to remember when a nice driver could be bought from first owner (or as a trade-in) for not too much money. But, what would I have done with it for the past fifty years?
I can’t quite discern Harold’s birth year, but I’ll guess he was 18-to-30 when these ads appeared:
I believe he was born about 1937.
Great read Jon! That sounds like a amazing experience. That would have been a great job for me before I was married with kids. Now, no way would I have the time.
Actually, that would be the perfect job for my Dad. The 56 T-bird is one of his all time favourite cars, he’s very meticulous driver, and he has lots of spare time. But I guess he is almost Harold’s age so maybe the detailing and such might be a bit much.
Good story. Lack of reliability is the big problem with old cars that are too nice/valuable/coddled/unsafe/uncomfortable/thirsty to be driven as semi-daily drivers. I owned a 65 Stingray for 11 years and used it as a semi-daily driver for several years and it was totally reliable, but when it became a “weekend” car it was almost always certain to require a charging session before starting that made it a hassle and easy to postpone the exercise if the weather wasn’t perfect, etc., and longer delays between drives only made things worse with tires going flat due to slow leaks or electrical connections getting corroded, etc. I used to dream of having a collection of classic cars, but unless that dream also included the financial ability to pay a full-time mechanic to keep them up, I think it would be a real nightmare.
Thank you sharing this story about Uncle Harold and his cars. I was with him at a car show in Winnie Texas one month before he passed away. He won the show with the ’56 Buckskin, his favorite car! Thank you again!
That’s a lovely story.
Yes, there definitely is a reality when driving, and particularly, owning a classic car. I have been involved with Model A Fords off and on since 1975. Now there is a car that has little connection to modern driving! These cars, in my opinion, and now totally out of place on the modern road. That are so slow they cannot get out of their own way and that makes them highly dangerous in modern heavy traffic. Then there are the old post World War II British sports cars. I love the old MGs but will never own one again. Like the old adage, Be Care Of What You Wish For, You May Get It!, my ’51 MG TD was a huge disappointment. I waited 44 years to get one only to spend the better part of 5 years rebuilding an already restored car. British automotive engineering is strange at best and if you plan to actually drive the car, then you are really in for a series of misadventures. As I slide into my mid 60s, I find it is time to quit. The MG is gone and the Model A is up for sale. This hobby seems to need younger bodies to keep the cars running but young people are no longer interested in cars. Seems the hobby is doomed to lose it’s hobby status and become forever an investment medium. And that’s really unfortunate…
Love these old T-birds and I agree about the ’57 being the best-looking of the three years. The ’55 ‘Bird was originally supposed to have swooping side trim like the Fairlane. Management liked the trim but the stylists hated it and fought like hell to have the chrome removed. The battle went as far as early ads and publicity materials but the stylists won and the ‘Bird hit the showrooms with clean sides.
What a great story, how’d I miss this one the first time?
I got to exercise a BMW Z3 after my neighbor passed and his widow couldn’t drive standard, but she wisely sold it quickly.
I also find it interesting how three cars almost the same are so different in personality. Never did understand having multiples when there are so many compelling vehicles out there, but at least Harold kept them looked after.
That’s exactly how I felt. If I had the means to own and maintain at least three nice collector cars, there’s no way I would get a set like this. With SO MANY cars out there that I love, my garage would be more like Jay Leno’s in variety.
I had a 1962 Lincoln for a bunch of years when it was 40+ years old. I used it as a DD a lot of the time and even drove it across the country, but had to put it away a few times for half a year. I disconnected the battery for those periods and did nothing but put the cable back on and turn the key and it always started right up.
A few things didn’t ever work right on it, but then the AC/heat/defrost system was the most diabolically designed and pointlessly complex one in automotive history and I didn’t have money to do too much. No one even wanted to work on the AC and I didn’t live near the mothership in Connecticut.
But I don’t get this guy with money not spending the relatively few dollars to make his babies run and look right while paying someone to drive them around a little. And not using them much himself either. Weird old dude apparently.
What a wonderful read and account of what sounds like such a great experience. Thank you for sharing the story of Harold, Judy and their classic, two-seat Thunderbirds with us.
I’d wager these cars came from Amos Minter, a very well known 55-57 T-Bird specialist located in Texas. I saw his ads every month in Hemmings for decades. No idea if he’s since passed on, but I’d bet that is where these ‘birds started their new lives, he always had 3-4 or more for sale.
In fall of 1954 at the age of 5 the new T-Bird was the first car I fell in love with…the ’56 Continental was the second. A girl in my neighborhood who was my age received a baby-blue electrified kiddie version in Fiberglas of the ’55 ‘bird that she drove around on the sidewalks, and I was insanely jealous. But her Daddy was the Baltimore Fruehauf semi-trailer distributor, and my Daddy was not. So I learned to be contented with my first 2 wheel 20″ bicycle.
Ever since I’ve wanted one, and came close in high-school when a rusty and faded one became available to me cheap, but I couldn’t muster the funds from my lawn-mowing jobs. Now these cars are, to me, very reasonably priced in comparison to, say, a ’57 Chevy convertible, no doubt because they have been collector cars almost since the beginning, and survival rates are very high. As the old guys (and I am one) sell them off, if the right one comes along, I may yet get to fulfill that dream… before it’s too late!