My Very First Love

Yup, there she is…my very first sweetie; a 1969 Oldsmobile Cutlass “S”. Of course this isn’t the exact same car; that one is long gone but she looked just like the one above with the small exception of some subtle pin striping I did along the main lines of the body.

My father had given her to me when I came back from Navy boot camp all those years ago and by the time I finished with her she had dual exhaust connected to BlackJack headers, a pair of “Hush Thrush” mufflers and an original Offenhauser 4 barrel manifold I took off an old wrecked Cutlass 442 of the same year with the original (rebuilt of course) 750 CFM “Quadra-Jet” 4 barrel carburetor. There were other miscellaneous tweaks here and there of course but I’ve forgotten most of them by now.

Since the same engine sizes were used in the 442 and the “S” models alike, the actual switchover was easy with only a minor change in the primary jets to make up for using exhaust headers instead of the original 442 exhaust manifolds (greater exhaust flow with the headers). Since the “S” and the “442″ could come with 350 and 400 cubic inch “Rocket” engines, or the record setting 455 “HO” in the rarer 442 “W-30″ editions, that wide block 350 in mine did well when she turned 425 horsepower on the dyno at the local speed shop when I was finished with her and that was with the (mostly) stock engine.

By the way, for the younger generation who are currently driving around these small cars with 4 banger engines stuffed in them, “442″ stood for…

4 on the floor
4 barrel
2 exhaust pipes (dual exhaust)

We traveled the roads for many years together my sweetie and I and won many road battles when those obnoxious, pushy, over-aggressive drivers who always think they own the road. A beautiful true love affair if any young man ever had one. Then one fateful winter day in the hands of my sister, who is an excellent driver in her own right, my first love met her end on her way back from Boston during a classic Nor’easter.

Normally an excellent handling car, summer or winter, she was pushed off the highway by an out of control 4 wheel drive Jeep whose driver thought 4 wheel drive meant they could do 80 miles an hour in a raging blizzard on a snow covered highway. She ripped out her guts on a large block of cement that was covered by a huge snow drift my sister had plowed the car through in a valiant attempt to slow her down. By the time the cops arrived my sister had removed my highly expensive stereo setup, the battery and was working on removing the intake manifold and carburetor from the engine when the officer finally had to make her stop to keep her from freezing to death before she was finished.

Where my first love ended up I never did find out nor did I want to. This had all occurred while I was poking holes in the ocean on board my submarine during my time in the Cold War, Naval Submarine Force and I didn’t find out until the boat had finally made home port in Norfolk, VA that following summer. I had left the car up north for safe keeping while I was out on a rather long deployment.

All I know was that my sister had recovered the car from where they took it after the accident and had it brought back to my parents place. But before she could have her mechanic friends look at it to see if the engine and drive train were repairable; my father had it towed off to the junk yard while she was at work (one of the only black marks on his record as my father). I couldn’t possibly describe my reaction when I found out I was so devastated.

And so I’ll always have a special place in my heart for that first love of mine and all the wondrous adventures we had together. And I’m always hoping she’s resting in peace rather than in pieces wherever she may be. Perhaps, when I die, we’ll go driving once more on the roads of some other place far away from here.

You never forget your first love.

Possibly Related Matter

• No related posts