Nailhead Power

My dad’s attitude was that if Henry Ford had wanted a Buick engine in the car, he would have put one in there. I didn’t remind him that Edsel was running the company in 1939, or that Henry was a racer and Edsel a customizer. For once, I kept my mouth shut and put the engine in anyway.

John Oganowski at Ogan Welding moved the steering box 1-1/4” outboard so the starter would clear. I adapted the Buick to the stock transmission and torque tube drive, installed a 12 volt battery, used a voltage dropping resistor to feed the instruments, changed the ground on the voltmeter from positive to negative, hooked up the exhaust system with a piece of rubber radiator hose, hooked up a rope and broom handle throttle and went for a ride. The rubber exhaust system melted before I got a block. I’m lucky it didn’t catch fire. I replaced the rubber with a piece of flex pipe, illegal in New Jersey, but way better than rubber.

The stock brake pedal was really close to hitting the Buick bell housing when the brakes were applied. As I was cruising past North Plainfield High School, a police car in front of me stopped. The brake pedal chose that moment to hit the bell housing. I had to pump the pedal to stop. I don’t think the cop noticed that I would have hit him in another inch or so. If he did, he didn’t pull me over. I would have had a good time explaining the broomstick throttle.

It wasn’t long before I started dropping transmissions. At the same time, Jim Zanowic let his Sunoco station employees chase parts in his ‘36 Ford pickup. They were also breaking wobble stick boxes. Between us, we used up the local supply pretty quickly. In honor of all the busted parts, I named the coupe Shif’less. My brother painted the name and a cartoon behind the door on each side. The cartoon showed a ’39 with the front wheels off the ground, a burley driver with his arm and the shift lever out the passenger window, and transmission parts scattering underneath.

I bought a Buick selector transmission which had a torque tube drive and adapted the Ford torque tube to fit it. It wasn’t the strongest transmission either, but I developed my first Hot Rod building axiom. Always alter the vehicle rather than the part. That way, you can use junk yard parts without modifying them.

John Ogan manufactured quick change rear ends for use in sprint cars. He modified stock steel center sections instead of using cast aluminum like Halibrand did. Halibrand gears and aluminum covers fit. We put the rear together with one gasket on each side to check the backlash. It was perfect. John said he never had one go together like that. It usually takes multiple gaskets (and disassembly and reassembly) to set the lash. The only gear set John had on hand was 20 and 28 teeth set which resulted in a 5.29:1 final ratio. This was a bit low for street use, but gas was cheap. Besides, no one could beat me off the line. Also, if I reversed the positions of the change gears, it gave me a 2.70:1 ratio and really good gas mileage. The modified center section hit the rear cross member, so I bought a Model A spring. I installed the spring without modifying the cross member, which raised the rear end of the car about a foot. Kids used the car for a backstop when they played stickball.

My brother John and I decided to go Chevy hunting in D Gas. We rebuilt the engine with 1/8” over Jahns 11:1 pistons, a Crane flat tappet cam, Gotha adjustable rockers, an Edmonds 2-4 bbl manifold and two Carter WCFB four barrels. The engine was now 282.7 cubic inches. We hated the number 283 like Ford fans do, so we called it a 282 Buick.

We used an Offenhauser adaptor to John’s ’63 Ford T-10 four speed, a shortened ‘57 Ford driveshaft, and a ’50 Olds rear. The Olds rear had 1” diameter cups on the U-joint, so we had 1” i.d. x 1-1/16” o.d. shims made to adapt it to the Ford shaft. If we had been smarter, we would have welded an Olds yoke on to the Ford shaft when it was shortened. The guy who cut the shaft was as at least as dumb as we were. He cut a piece out of the middle of the shaft and welded it back together rather than removing a piece from the end. It wound up being about ¼” from straight. Not easy to balance that way.

When I started college, I knew RPI had a silly rule about freshman not being allowed to have cars, but I decided that I needed one. I bought a ’50 Chevy for ten dollars. The car smoked, but no worse than a lot of ten year old cars. As I headed North on the Jersey Turnpike, the car began to smoke more. Finally a rod let go and punched a hole in the side of the block. I rolled over to the shoulder, took off the plates, hopped the fence, found the bus station and bought a ticket to Troy. A year after I forgot about the Turnpike incident, the State Troopers contacted me about the car. All they wanted was permission to scrap it.

My first attempt at college lasted only one semester. Home on break, I received a telegram that said “Academic record makes continuance impossible. Stop.” So I did.