I'll go chronologically. Names of living persons changed to protect the guilty. Post-WWII, my grandfather (George) was a factory-certified independent Mopar mechanic in rural New Mexico. Over the years he owned many Mopars, including several Imperials. My father Willy grew up in the shop, learning how to work on cars from a young age. His first car was a 1961 Matador. He later owned two white 1964 Newports in rapid succession (that's a story for another time). His first civilian job (4 Navy tours of Vietnam) was fixing the mis-aligned hoods, trunks, and doors as new cars came off the truck at Powell Dodge in Escondido, CA. I took my first car ride (2 days old) home from the hospital in a 1968 Fury III. Willy had a succession of K-car station wagons as company vehicles (copier repair) throughout the 80's. I spent years going on family vacations in them, as the company allowed personal use for a very reasonable rate (and they were more reliable than the family's 1977 Buick!) When I was in high school, my friend Scott bought his first car from a little old lady down the street. It was a 1970 Satellite sedan in dark green, cloth interior, \6, 904 Torqueflite, cloth bench seats (apparently a rare combo) for $50. He drove the wheels off of it, threw a rod, replaced the original 225 with one from a junkyard. The junkyard slant six turned out to have compression issues, but that wasn't figured out until after he had given it to our friend Junior. Willy, my friend Alan, and I helped Junior out, as he was in an unstable living situation. We rebuilt the brakes, chased electrical gremlins, and kept it running for a year or so until he junked it and got another more economical ride. I still have one of the license plates from that beast. Fast-forward to 9 years ago. Scott is perusing an online classified site and finds a 1970 Satellite sedan, dark green, but this one has a vinyl interior, 318, 904 Torqueflite, and non-functioning AirTemp factory air. He buys it, has it shipped across the country, and Alan and I show up the day it arrives to have a look. Alan is busy with work, and I have a young family now, so our availability to help with this project is very limited. Scott spends the next 4-5 years having lots done to the car. Rebuilt engine, rebuilt transmission, suspension, electrical, gauges. Then Scott gets a smoking deal on a well-restored 1969 Roadrunner in Vitamin C, 383/4-speed. The Satellite is now on the back burner. Just a couple months ago, Scott and his wife move south of the Mason-Dixon line. She drives her Japanese sedan to their new house. Scott leaves the F-150 in the driveway for later retrieval, and drives the orange beep-beep. The morning he leaves, he hands me the keys to the Satellite. He wants to sell it to me for way too much money (that I don't have lying around) and his wife wants to give it to me (but her name isn't on the title...) So I'm basically car-sitting. Thanks for reading this far, and thank you to all the mods/admins for keeping this forum in working order. -"Signalsparks"