Lee Iacocca
The Baby Boomer
And My Mustang ‘64
A True Story
By
Robert A. Chapin
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011
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New York World’s Fair 1964
Admission to The New York World‘s Fair in 1964/1965 was $2.50. That’s quite a bargain considering that if you were to take a family of four to a major league New York Yankee baseball game at present day rates (2011) it would cost:
Tickets for 2 adults, 2 kids, 2 soft drinks, 2 beers, 4 hot dogs, parking, 2 souvenir baseball caps, 4 containers of pop corn, 4 Ice bream bars, Cha Ching - Cha Ching = $383.52.
These prices are outrageously ridiculous! It is much more appealing for me to stay home, watch the game on a high definition flat screen TV, eat junk food, have a few beers - all for less than five bucks and… with the advantage of being able to count the pitchers nose hairs!
By the time our school attended The World’s Fair I was a year from graduating and a member of the band. I played first trumpet and it was one of the most magnificent events of my young life. There was a band pavilion - one of many where people could stop for a rest amid the hundreds of food vendors.
We were invited to play for the benefit of attendees at the band shell identified by a marquee featuring Guy Lombardo and The Royal Canadians scheduled to perform later that day. Following our performance we were required to lock our instruments in a specially provided area.
For one reason or another following the performance, I placed my trumpet case under my chair and went about enjoying the day. About 20 minutes later there was an announcement:
“Will the music teacher from Ware High School return to the Guy Lombardo Pavilion.”
It was then I realized I had not followed procedure in returning my instrument to the lockup. By the time the music teacher and I arrived back at the pavilion The Royal Canadians were practicing for one of their scheduled performances. As I entered the stage area none other than Guy Lombardo asked me for some form of ID then proceeded to hand over the trumpet. We talked for a few minutes and then he asked if I would like to accompany the Royal Canadians in one of their numbers. Their performance was in approximately 2 hours and Mr. Taggert, our band director was delighted that I got to play with Guy Lombardo and The Royal Canadians at the New York World’s Fair.
In 1964 I was only interested in being with Cindy, but her plans didn’t include me. She was pre-occupied with a group of girls. We were cautioned, warned actually, by chaperones that there was to be absolutely no public display of affection - no hand holding and no inappropriate behavior.
I had my group of male friends who hung together. However, as if we were kindergarten kids under the watchful eye of chaperons, wherever we went we were counted, tagged, and required to raise the school flag in what I considered nonsense. It was ironic that only two years later I was drafted into the army where I was ordered to carry a weapon in combat in Vietnam, but at The World’s Fair I couldn’t hold hands with Cindy.
Ford Motor Company introduced the Mustang on April 17, 1964, the newest car to shake up the market in years. The new Mustang was on display at the entrance to The Ford Pavilion. I had a 1957 Ford Fairlane Convertible Retractable Hardtop purchased from one of the guys in town who joined the Navy - but the new Mustang attracted me like a magnet.
The Mustang was released in one of the greatest advertising blitzes in the auto industry, it was a dream car that most high school kids could not afford. I certainly couldn’t. I was working at a restaurant as a salad chef and on what I earned, was destined to drive the 1957 Ford until better employment came along.
At every opportunity I would drive to the nearest Ford dealer in a nearby town and just “visit” the new cars on the lot. With the Mustang having just been released for the benefit of the baby boomers it was a car that was as a rule, only displayed in the showroom. There was one dealer who invited all the high school kids to attend a cook-out with plenty of hot dogs, burgers, cold drinks, popcorn, dessert - and every licensed driver got to take the new (all white) Mustang convertible for a spin around the lot.
The Mustang was an instant hit. I thought I was in love with Cindy, but when I actually had the opportunity to sit in the drivers seat of this new sensation, and smell that distinctive new car aroma my priorities changed and I was now in love with the Mustang as well.
Sadly, my dad passed away suddenly which limited my ability to consider a new car. My mother and three sisters were dependent on me to support them financially, and the job at the restaurant was sufficient to bring in enough income to assist with the basics. From the time of his death it had taken the Veterans Administration and Social Security Administration many months before they provided survivors benefits to our family.
I will never forget the restaurant - it was, and still is one of the finest country inns in America: The Salem Cross Inn located in West Brookfield, Massachusetts. Following my dad’s death, the Salem brothers, Henry and Dick friendly with dad asked if I would like to work for them after school. I have always been grateful to this wonderful family for allowing me to excel in an area of just more than a dish washer.
As in all major restaurants there is always a meal of the day on the menu, and the Salem brothers generosity was far beyond anything I had experienced since. Every day when I arrived for my 3:00 PM to 11:00 shift these wonderful people allowed me to enjoy a dinner complete with dessert. Whether meatloaf, chicken or roast beef, they treated me with such respect and dignity that I have never forgotten them. The restaurant had not yet opened for the day and a place was always set for me where I appreciated not only the meal but their genuine warm kindheartedness.
There were times when the food buyer would order more than was used, and I was given a package of beef, chicken or chops for my family at the end of the night. This also included pastries, their famous popovers and an assortment of rolls and breads. For the past 35 years my wife and I never missed the opportunity to dine at their establishment until we moved from Massachusetts to Virginia 10 years ago.
Once the appropriate federal agencies: The Veteran’s Administration
and Social Security Administration were finally providing my mother with survivors benefits I could feel the pressure release. Now, the reality of possibly owning a new car was within reach.
On its first day of introduction Ford received orders for 22,000 Mustangs. Their projection of 100,000 cars in the first year far exceeded their expectations and a total of 417,000 were produced in the first year
I continued to work at the restaurant and with generous increases in pay and working double shifts on weekends and filling in, I was at a place where I seriously considered a new car. My position at the restaurant was never in doubt. As time passed, and the financial crises over for the family, I was coming into my final year of high school and with grants and education programs available, the day finally arrived when I could be serious about the new 1964 Mustang.
When I came home with a Mustang catalog my mother thought I should have the new car. It didn’t take much urging on her part and she agreed to co-sign. Every time I looked through the catalog all I could envision was me in my Dynasty green Mustang pulling into the high school parking lot.
Mother and I had an appointment with the bank where my family conducted business for years and the banker approved the $2200.00 loan with a repayment schedule of $69.00 a month for a period of 36 months. I was ecstatic to say the least! I was the first kid in high school to own a new 1964 Mustang. As much as I wanted the Dynasty green, on the day mom and I arrived to take possession of the car, my Dynasty green had previously been promised to another buyer. The car I eventually accepted was maroon in color. The factory could not manufacture them fast enough, but It didn’t matter what color the car was - I finally had a 1964 Mustang!.
I was the envy of every guy in of our small town of 2200 and a hit with my high school classmates. I will say that from that day forward I had no problem with getting a date, and all of a sudden Cindy, Marilyn, Yvonne, Betty, and her cousin Lorraine were much friendlier. I never spent so much time at The Metro Drive-In theater as I did with those 5 beautiful young ladies. All separately of course!
The dealer was giving first time buyer incentives and handed me a $50.00 cash bonus. That was a lot of money in 1964! As for my 1957 Ford Fairlane Convertible Retractable Hardtop, I sold it to a kid in town for $200.00, but I was now the proud owner of Lee Iacocca’s brain child. Now I had a whopping total of two hundred bucks and I felt as though I was rich!
Just as I was to take delivery life got a bit better for me. I was hired as an orderly at one of the large area hospitals. My plans were to attend Union Medical School in Utica, New York and I wanted to become a general practitioner.
While working as an orderly I became very friendly with a beautiful young lady by the name of Kathy and together on our days off we traveled to Cape Cod, The Catskills, and all throughout the highways and back roads of New England - truly one of the most memorable times of my life. However, the fairy-tale love affair with my first new car was short lived. The Vietnam war was brewing in Southeast Asia, 10,000 miles away and there was the possibility that I might be drafted.
The inevitable happened in March 6, 1966. I was drafted and even with my plans to attend college I was unable to convince Senator Ted Kennedy’s office to intercede on my behalf. As I write this story I am looking at the framed letter from his office informing me that he has done all he could to defer me from the draft, but the war was on and I had to do my duty. If I had received the actual letter of acceptance to Union I would not have been drafted.
The Mustang was a very difficult car to acquire and customers often had to wait for up to 6 weeks to have their order filled. The dealer was eager to do whatever necessary to place my car into his inventory. It had just over 18,000 miles and sold even before it was placed on the lot. After paying the balance of my original loan, in an unusual move he handed me another $50.00 bill.
* * *
In 1979 I was visiting a friend who collects vintage cars and we were on the subject of my 1964 Mustang that I had to return to the dealer as a result of the draft in 1966. Following the conversation, he drove me to an old tobacco barn in the Connecticut Valley of Western Massachusetts where (8) vintage 1964 Mustang’s were stored He was asking $2000 each and I selected one in what was my first choice back in 1964 - Dynasty green. It was covered with dust and a bit out of shape, but I purchased the car and made arrangements to pay in installments and he offered to store my “dream car” free of charge until paid in full.
I never did take possession of the Mustang. One night four kids set the barn on fire and all 8 of the vintage Mustangs were destroyed. I did not have insurance on the car, but because title had not been transferred he still owned my selection. I had already paid him $100.00, but I have no complaints inasmuch as he did not return the money to me. His insurance company covered his loss.
There is a bittersweet ending to this story: the juveniles were apprehended several days later and following conviction were ordered by the court to make restitution in the amount of just under $16,000 for the cars and $36,000 for the barn. I followed the case in the local newspaper and learned that the parents of the juveniles in order to keep them from serving in the detention center had to make immediate payment in full . The $52,000 was divided by the four juveniles, a total of $13,000 for each of their hard working parents.
Now that I am retired I have plans to find a nice 1964 vintage Mustang Convertible and perhaps one that needs a little restoration.
These short stories are all true and I hope they take you back in time. Many are humorous, and several, like this one do not always end as expected. If you have enjoyed reading this and possibly some of the others, may I suggest you write a short evaluation. The success of any author depends on the quality of the review. Thank you for visiting.
Blessings,
Bob