Heartless

My grown son and I pulled the motor today.

I am exhausted.  There were lot's of gotchas... including spilling oil on my driveway:

There are lots of stories I can tell about what got me to this point, but I was so caught up working with my son that I forgot to take many pictures.  Yesterday, he and I drove about 60 miles to a friends house to pick up a "cherry picker", or engine hoist.  While we were there, my friend showed me is 1948 Packard (running) and his 1937 Pierce Arrow (not).  His sense of humor and enthusiasm for fixing old cars is contagious and intoxicating!  We were fully ready to work on the t-bird today.

yeah.  well.  nothing goes exactly as planned.  Even though I told everyone else what I wanted to do today, I forgot to tell my wife.  She came back from an errand this morning to find the t-bird in the middle of the driveway on jack stands, an oil puddle growing underneath of it, and me running around trying to figure out what to do next.  Not a good scene... certainly, not good for anyone's serenity.

Many hours later, and several trips to the hardware store (for bolts, pans, de-greaser and kittylitter), my son and I looked with pride at the engine now cluttering our garage.  By God's grace, we had done it.

You may not think this is much, but remember what this car represents.  The last time I owned this car, my best efforts at restoration ended in heartbreak.  Deep down, I have considered myself a failure as a mechanic ever since.  This is a positive step, and in fact a very emotional one for me.  Cleansing.  More than once I needed my son to reassure me, to stem my anxiety, to hug me, to share the moment.  Strangely, I'm not ashamed to say that.

I'm not a teenager any more.  I have grown.  I have acquired a certain wisdom, and God has put this car, this reminder of my past failure back in my life.  I chose to accept it, knowing that it would take time and patience.  Knowing that it might hurt... that at times it would hurt.  I also know that something deeper is going on, but I don't know where it will lead.

I am one step farther down that path.  And yes, it has been inconvenient.  My wife has forgiven me, and my garage is cluttered... but it is satisfying.  And my son is sharing it with me.

God is still good.

Providence and 113's

A lot has happened today, but first I need to tell you what happened yesterday.  I need to start with a little retro-tech performance talk...  Please bear with me.

I've been obsessed recently about doing something to improve the performance of the t-bird.  Nothing crazy, but I want to spice up a little beyond it's lackluster reputation.  Y-blocks are small motors by American V8 standards.  The biggest they can be bored out to is about 332 ci, significantly smaller than the venerable 350 Small Block Chevy (like the LS1 motor in my '04 GTO).  My t-bird's motor is a 292 bored .040" over, so it's still under 300 ci, making less than 200 hp ... to push a 3000 lb car.  Kinda wimpy, huh?

I went to a cruise night on Wednesday, which happened to feature the local thunderbird club.  There were many little birds there, including two '55's and a '56.  One of the '55's was immaculate, with a tri-power intake... by that I mean "three deuces", or a "3x2", three two barrel carburetors in a row.  His was an Offenhauser manifold with three matching Stromberg 97's.  This set up is NOT the most powerful intake for a y-block, and it is very difficult to setup to run well... but it is amazingly cool looking! See for yourself:

It is very "vintage", a period-correct approach to high performance.  There is something inherently satisfying about that, attractive, soothing to the soul.  In a way, this is what cruise night is all about.  Can't you just hear the Beach Boys in the background when you look at this?

The '56 at cruise night had some more significant modifications, most of which were internal to the engine.  The obvious things on the outside of the engine were the FPA long tube headers and the Blue Thunder intake:

These modifications are, of course, not period correct, but the make a LOT of horsepower - about as much as you can with a y-block!  The owner claimed 400hp, which is an awful lot for a 55 year old 312.   This setup is also attractive to me, but it just doesn't have the visceral appeal of the tri-power.  Oh, also note the lack of power steering and power brakes. This makes for a very clean engine compartment, and the car really doesn't need them.  I'm keeping this in mind.

Anyway, all this performance talk got me thinking.  One easy way to get "period correct" performance on a '55 is to use '57 heads and intake.  1957 was the pinnacle of Ford y-block performance.  Competition with Chevy was fierce, and Ford was determined to stay in the horsepower lead.  In 1958, Ford shifted away from the y-block to a new, larger FE engine for it's performance cars... but in 1957, you could order a t-bird with a 300hp supercharged 312!  The "budget" t-bird engine was a 212hp 292, which is the same size but more powerful than the engine in my car, even though it has a 2 barrel carb and mine has a 4 barrel! The secret to this power was some subtle cam timing, a better distributor, but most importantly the high-compression, big valve ECZ-G heads.  Every Ford y-block in 1957 had them.  They will bolt on to any y-block, regardless of size or year.  For my engine, they would raise the compression ratio from 8.5 to 9.0, and provide much better intake flow, easily yielding an additional 25-30 horsepower!  The next best thing to "G" heads are the 1958-59 5752-113 heads, or "113's".  They are good for 8.9 compression ratio on my motor, flow as well as "G" heads, and are a little stronger due to thicker construction.  Needless to say, "G" and "113" heads are in high demand among y-block aficionados.  With y-blocks becoming a more popular motor for hotrods, "G" heads have become very scarce.  Believe me, I've looked for months - I couldn't find any for sale, let alone any I could afford!

Here's where it gets interesting.  Thursday night, just before going to bed, I decide to check eBay for y-block heads one more time.  Yes, this has been an obsession for me... I want to let go, but I'm going to check one more time.  There, among the older, less desirable heads is pair of 113's, with a "buy now" price that is very affordable!  I pinch myself, check the fine print, and start to realize that these are, indeed, within my grasp!  I buy the heads, and send a message to the seller asking for crating and shipping to my home.  I go to sleep thinking "God is good", and knowing that he has blessed me, even in my selfish obsession.  Amazing!

But wait, it gets better!  Late Friday morning I check my eBay messages, and find out that the seller is driving to my town for a vacation with his family, and is willing to bring the heads with him!  I call the number he gave me, and he says that he is on his way, and yes, he's bringing the heads with him.   All I can think is "wow"!  So, Friday evening I drive 10 minutes, and meet the guy.  He's a down to earth, humble man, who tells me the story of restoring a 1957 t-bird for sale at auction, because business is slow at his metal processing plant!  The t-bird came with these 113 heads, but the car is worth more with "number matching" heads (remember the "G" heads?), so he took these off, cleaned them up and ultrasonically tested them at work, and then sold them to me!  I thanked him profusely, paid him, and gave some coupons I had to take his kids to the zoo.  God is indeed good, and He is working on something both subtle and profound here.  I really need to think about this.

My vague and abstract dream of making this t-bird into something special is becoming more concrete, more of a vision around which I can start directing my actions.  I'm starting to understand more about the things I want for it and the things I don't want, to form an intention for this car.  I'm beginning to envision what I want for it's character.

I believe that my heavenly Father gets a kick out of delighting me, just as I get a kick out of delighting my boys.  He does this in ways that are unique, personal, and consistent with what he wants for my character.  While I don't understand every cause and effect, I don't believe in coincidence.  I choose to believe that God provides things even as mundane as 113 heads as a way of delighting me, using the opportunity to have me meet a very thoughtful, interesting and humble man, whom God just happens to also have blessed with a family vacation!

Heart Work

Pulling the motor.

Needing to do that is a sobering thought, as is requires an immediate commitment of labor and funds, along with a sacrifice of garage space.  Taking this step is an acknowledgement that the car isn't OK, that I need to take action, that I shouldn't just keep everything packed away neatly and work on it later.  It is messy, but a key step toward cleaning up the mess.  Taking this kind of redemptive step is something my family tended to avoid when I was growing up.  We had so many projects packed away "to do later" that we couldn't remember them all.  Things got bad when that list included fixing the clogged kitchen sink, fixing the back steps, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, and washing the dishes.  I have seen procrastination turn very ugly... In the long term, I am afraid of it.  In the short term, I'm afraid to get started.  Starting a project in earnest is always unsettling.  Something gets disturbed.  People are inconvenienced, and it will be my fault.  Unsettled.  That's how I feel.

My Dad and I built a Heathkit color TV together when I was in Jr High.  The TV was pretty awful, and it cost more than a new already-built one.  Financially, it didn't make sense.  It was inconvenient.  We took over the dining room table for a couple of months. But, on an emotional level, it was the best thing he could have done for our relationship!  I spent many happy hours with Dad working on that TV.  Sometimes, inconvenience is worth it.  

Pulling the motor also risks chafing the aesthetic sensibilities of my neighbors.  My garage is pretty tight.  I will need to wheel the t-bird onto my driveway, and use a cherry picker to pull the motor in front of God and everybody.  I live on the corner of a tee intersection, in a very tidy white-collar neighborhood.   Every car that comes up the hill to my street has a clear view of my garage.  I usually work with the garage door open, at least during the day.  While a part of me is a little embarrassed to have my neighbors see my ugly car, I starting to believe that leaving the garage open while I work could also be an invitation for relationship.  A motor on a an engine stand is, after all, a guy magnet.  

So, if I need to spend serious time and effort reconstructing the heart of the t-bird, what is God telling me to do with my own heart?  I've known for a long time that there is something "not quite right" in there, that my desires occasionally run in directions that I don't quite like.  I have been in recovery for many years, and through God's grace have achieved a degree of external sobriety.  I've completed 3 different step studies, and I've learned something about myself each time.  I've surrendered, I've inventoried, I've made amends, but I keep coming back to the feeling that I need to address something deeper.  There is a valve seat or a wrist pin or a cam follower deep inside my heart that needs attention, something that hasn't been addressed in over 40 years.  My heart won't run right until I decide to let God and I pull it out together, and do a major overhaul.  It will take time.  It will take work.  It will be inconvenient to have my heart spread out all over the garage.  My family and neighbors might object.  I'm a little afraid of stepping into this project.  

But, it may create opportunities for deeper relationships.  It may even help other men decide to let God into their own hearts.

I choose to believe that God will be with me, that he will honor my decisions, and that in the long run, the time, effort, and inconvenience will be worth it.

Letting go of a false hope.

Had dinner with my Uncle last night.  He's very successful at restoring cars, and has built many show winners.  Several Packards, a Lincoln, Cadillac, Mercedes, even a Pierce Arrow.  I highly value his opinion, so I invited him to come over and look at the t-bird, and advise me.

I was dreading the thought of him suggesting a "body off" restoration... that is, taking the body off the frame so that it can be totally media-blasted and painted.  This is a huge and very expensive endeavor. His advise was, surprisingly, NOT to do that.  As a California car,  he said, the frame is most likely sound.  Patching the holes in the trunk is a minor issue, and quick work for a body man.  No need to pull the body.  I should put the car on jackstands, he said, and scrape, sand, rust-proof and paint the undercarriage.  That will be enough.  Still a lot of work, but not as severe.  Good news! 

I had hoped to keep the engine in the car, get it running, then drive it to a body shop.  I now believe this was premature.  My Uncle convinced me that I need to pull the engine.  My hesitation had been based on the fact that putting the engine in the car was the last concrete, positive thing I did when I had the car some 37 years ago.  I did it with a good friend in high school.  I know it's silly, but I feel sad about having to undo it.

Then again, this time I expect to pull the engine with my son.  I also expect him to play a role in any engine work, which will make the car much more meaningful to both of us!  Yes, I'm willing to let go of my old hope, and become willing to invest a different part of myself.  I'm also willing to give up the second half of my 2-car garage, for a time, to an engine stand and hoist.  Oh, and an air compressor.  And a tool box, and a parts bin...

Rebuilding the engine should be straightforward, especially since the bottom end is a "fresh" short block (done 39 years ago, but never fired).  This will give me a chance to directly address some performance issues with the car.  1957 y-block ECZ-G heads show up on e-Bay occasionally... they breathe much better, thus making significantly more power than the 1955-6 heads.  John Mummert also now has aluminum heads available, which show remarkable power gains.  I will need a different intake manifold and carburetor to use these heads, but picking up 10-20% more horsepower should definitely be worth it!

The Ford-o-matic transmission was serviced in 1972, and has been dry ever since.  I suspect that seals have dried out and it will need a thorough servicing by a professional.  This is something I'm not willing to take on myself, but my "Uncle Packard" has connections that may provide better advice.

My hope is to be able to get the engine work, transmission, steering, suspension, and brakes done within a year, and put the engine back in next summer with my son.  I also expect to clean and paint the undercarriage and engine compartment while the engine is out.  In order to paint the engine compartment, I will need to pick a final body color.  That is not as trivial as it may seem... I will write a separate blog entry about that.

A Bit More History

My family is helping me to piece together some of the history of the t-bird.  My Aunt was in high school when Grandma purchased the car, most likely in the spring of 1956.  Everyone agrees it was a very uncharacteristic thing for Grandma to do.  She was very practical, a high school math teacher, sponsor of the glee club.  Not the kind of woman to purchase a racy car like a t-bird, but she did, and she clearly enjoyed the car for the rest of her life.  I figure that someone in the Navy bought the car new in Iowa, drove to California, and then got assigned overseas and had to sell the car at a loss.  Grandma got a one-year old car for about 75% of the cost of a new one.  Grandma and my Aunt drove the car across the country on a road trip in the summer of '56, and my Aunt drove it to nursing school in '57.  It was still the original turquoise color.

My Uncle and his wife both remember driving Grandma's car on errands.  My Uncle says the car handled well, but was a little sluggish for it's size.  He liked the large steering wheel and manual steering, but remembers the seat being uncomfortable on long trips - it didn't go back far enough, and the padding was uncomfortable across his shoulders.  His wife liked the turquoise color... a lot!  Personally, I find it too bland, and I'd like something brighter or darker.  I remember the car being a light green in 1962, but I have started to question my memory.  No one has confirmed that Grandma had the car painted, and I can't find any of that green color in the layers of paint on the car now.

Funny thing... Mom asked me my favorite color when I was very young.  I remember thinking of Grandma's car and replying "green".  My memory of this color was a key factor when I, as a 14 year old boy, chose to paint the car "bright lime" (remember the 1972 Ford Pinto?  Many of them were that color).  My intention was good, even if I had no taste.  Seems strange that I can't find a trace of the color I remember on the car now.  Perhaps it was all sanded off in prep for a subsequent paint job.

Update 5/23/12:  reviewing my previous posts, I found a pic that shows the green color, revealed when the body shop was stripping the car.  There was none of this green color under the paint on the front of the car, but this is indeed the color I remember.  Maybe the car had a subsequent accident in front that mandated stripping the paint prior to the dark metallic green paint job.
Trunk Lid

Grandma & Grief

I'm having a hard time remembering much about Grandma, at least from personal experience.  I don't even have a good picture of her!  She died less than a month after my 4 year-old birthday party.  Looking back, that explains why she wasn't there... she must have been in the hospital at the time.

I really just have impressions of her, rather than real memories.  I felt secure around her.  She was fun to be with.  We lived close by, and I think I spent a lot of time with her.  Most of what I know about her, and even most of what she said to me, I have been told by other people as I grew older.

I do remember being very confused when she died.  I was probably told that she was dead, or that she went to be with Jesus, or something like that... but of course it didn't register with me.  I didn't attend the funeral.  I was probably with a babysitter, me and my younger cousins.  I vaguely remember a lot of people coming over to Grandma's house in fancy clothes, standing around and talking for what seemed to be a very long time.  I may have wondered where she was, but she had been sick for a long time, and I hadn't been allowed to see her... apparently she "didn't want me to remember her that way". 

During this "party", I remember remember going into Grandma's garage with my Dad.  He let me sit behind the wheel of the t-bird while he opened the hood and showed the car to his brother in law.  He seemed quite taken with the car, but said that it needed a "tachometer".  Dad emphatically said that it already had one, and pointed to a big round dial right in front of me.  Then he said that since the car had an "automatic", that it didn't really need a "tachometer", but that it had one anyway.  That seemed funny to me.  I clearly remember those words, but of course I didn't know what they meant.  My Uncle ended up inheriting the car, and keeping it for 10 years... then selling it to me.

I don't know why I remember that so vividly.  I suspect that I had been bored most of the day, and that I was thrilled to be with my Dad.  I must have hung on his every word.

I don't remember feeling especially sad, or missing Grandma at the time.  Even if I did, I certainly didn't know how to articulate or even address those kinds of feelings.  I may have sensed that the people around me being sad, since they spoke in soft voices.  I think several people told me how much they loved my Grandma.  They would continue to tell me that for decades.

I never knew my Grandfather.  He died in Normandy a week after D-Day in 1944.  Amazingly, Grandma raised 4 children and put them all through college... Engineering school, Law school, Dental school and Nursing school... as a war widow and school teacher!  Despite her detractors, she kept her house, and passed it on to one of her sons... who still lives in it.  She clearly had a deep, enduring, fierce love.  A woman of character.  Not a woman to trifle with!  No wonder I felt safe around her.

Her death was a tragic milestone for my Dad and his siblings.  I later learned just how deep their unresolved grief has gripped the family.  Circumstances didn't allow them to grieve the loss of their Father, and that left them ill-equipped to deal with the loss of their Mother...  the one person who seemingly had the strength of will to persevere and keep the family together through any sadness, any ordeal.  The sadness of this loss manifests itself in many ways, but it has deeply effected Dad and his brothers.  I've sensed this deep brokenness many times from them while I was growing up, but I've only been able to make sense of it as an adult.

My Dad and his siblings have had family reunions every year since the funeral.  They are getting old now.  Dad is 83 and has esophageal cancer.  It's unlikely that he'll be at many more of them.   I have treasured these family parties over the years, and I'm gaining a deeper understanding of why they are have been important to me.

Maybe, restoring this t-bird is meant to be part of my own act of grieving, both for my Grandma and for my Dad's generation.  For their pain and loss, and for what it has done to them.  And, through them, what it has done to me.

I miss you, Grandma.