Me and Sue 'found' the method, staying in central NJ, reading the 'Want Add' and shipping out of Port Elizabeth. We even were lucky enough to rent a Failane with cut out like slots in the back bumper that you could chain a UHaul Tow Bar to.
When me and Bob went back in late 1980, we stayed at the Holiday Inn in Carteret NJ ( Bruce Springsteen 'New Jersey in the evening like a lunar landscape') and rented a Fairlane. A trip I will remember for the rest of my life.
The green 4 door wagon was owned by the Guy that we bought the '55 Sedan Delivery from, the rear bumper sticker said 'Disco Sucks', ha ha.
The '57 Sport Sedan 'for sale' photo, does it have the towing A bar in front of it?
Ron we should have a reunion in the Carteret HI, not this week though they have loads of snow. Thinking about it though, that was a damn rough HI. That pen must be a collectors item Ron.
Bob I am so glad that you photographed everything, priceless is the word that comes to mind.
This song always reminds me!
"Well, I had the carburetor, baby, cleaned and checked with her line blown out she's hummin' like a turbojet
Propped her up in the backyard on concrete blocks for a new clutch plate and a new set of shocks
Took her down to the carwash, check the plugs and points
Well, I'm goin' out tonight. I'm gonna rock that joint
Early north Jersey industrial skyline I'm a all-set cobra jet creepin' through the nighttime
Gotta find a gas station, gotta find a payphone this turnpike sure is spooky at night when you're all alone
Gotta hit the gas, baby. I'm running late, this New Jersey in the mornin' like a lunar landscape
Now, the boss don't dig me, so he put me on the nightshift
It's an all night run to get back to where my baby lives
In the wee wee hours your mind gets hazy radio relay towers, won't you lead me to my baby?
Underneath the overpass, trooper hits his party light switch
Goodnight good luck one two power shift
I met Wanda when she was employed behind the counter at route 60 Bob's Big Boy Fried Chicken on the front seat, she's sittin' in my lap
We're wipin' our fingers on a Texaco roadmap
I remember Wanda up on scrap metal hill with them big brown eyes that make your heart stand still
Well, at five a.m., oil pressure's sinkin' fast
I make a pit stop, wipe the windshield, check the gas
Gotta call my baby on the telephone
Let her know that her daddy's comin' on home
Sit tight, little mama, I'm comin' 'round I got three more hours, but I'm coverin' ground
Your eyes get itchy in the wee wee hours sun's just a red ball risin' over them refinery towers
Radio's jammed up with gospel stations lost souls callin' long distance salvation
Hey, mister deejay, woncha hear my last prayer hey, ho, rock'n'roll, deliver me from nowhere"
Rog.