My father had a black '57 Ford two-door. A moonshiner in an adjoining county had special-ordered it, with the 312 ci engine, an overdrive manual transmission, and a tinted rear window (of all things). The revenuers caught the guy before he could take delivery, and it sat on the lot for months because no one wanted the big engine. Daddy drove it until 1961, and sold it to two brothers who were shadetree mechanical geniuses (they once transplanted an Olds Rocket V-8 into a Ford pickup truck). They painted it white, made several modifications to the engine, and ruled the local street-racing scene for a while. At least, that's the way the story goes - I was born in 1957, and just barely have one memory of it. There's a picture of me at about age 2 leaning against the front left fender.
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