Stop in for a cup of coffee

We pulled the Roadrunner out so we could move things around...

Here's my son driving it out...

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My dad wrote this on the back window when we took it to Talledega back in 1988 for a parade lap with the Winged Warrior club... His favorite dog was our half Dalmatian/half English Setter named Captain... Captain loved to ride in all of the cars, especially the Roadrunner, but was too old to make the trip then, so he wrote his name on the back window in his honor so he could be there in spirit...

Captain used to go to all of the car shows with us in the 80's and was well known by the regular patrons... He had a black patch around one eye like the little rascal's dog... He was so well behaved we didn't need to leash him as he would always come when we called him back if he got to far away from us... He was very friendly and liked to walk up and greet everybody and let them pet him... After he was too old to go and later passed away, people who recognized us at the shows would ask where he was...


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Here's my brother and brother in law getting the ramps ready to unload the convertible...

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Here it is in its resting spot now...

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And I love the story. So cool to read stories about families with the same passion for cars. I’m the odd ball in my family. They see 50year old scrap metal, which given the condition of both cars, they aren’t far from it. But I see something different. Something historic. You see to me, the old cars represent more than hunks of metal. They have a soul, bits of souls from people who built them, designed them and owned them. Unlike today’s cars that are mostly robotic built, back then, every car was hand assembled. The tolerances stack up because people aren’t perfect so why should the cars be any different. Today’s cookie cutter cars, even the performance ones are nice cars, but they just don’t have that same connection. It’s weird.