My Dad bought me my first car, a 32 Ford 5 window when I was about 11. He thought he was doing me a favor, and got rid of it without me knowing and bought me a 50 Willys Jeepster. I cried because I wanted the Deuce back, and he couldn't understand why and was pretty mad at me for being ungrateful. Guess Dad wasn't a hot rodder.

I've been obsessed with cars since I was about 10, I guess. I bought every 25 cent magazine I could get my hands on, and spent hours drawing the Deuce roadster I wanted to build. Before I was 16 I had a Model A sedan, a 33 Ford roadster, ex drag car, a 38 Ford sedan, a 37 Dodge sedan, a bunch of Crosleys, a Fiat 500, about 3 or 4 50 Fords, and so many others I can't remember them all.

My Mom (bless her soul ) had a very simple answer for the neighbors who would mention we had a lot of cars sitting around our house. She would say "At least I know where he is every night!" Mom was pretty cool.

So here I am 50 some years later, and still obsessed with them.

Don