Legacy

Growing up without much, I'm the little boy in the photo who became fascinated with the 1969 GTO Judge owned by a guy who lived down the street. I rode my bike up and down the basin, Robert burned rubber up and down the basin. It was the first vehicle I ever saw that got me interested in American muscle cars. I'm dyslexic. I have the attention span of a gnat. But when I discovered muscle cars and hot rod magazine I finally was able to learn to read half way decent. I vowed that when I grew up I was going to make something of myself and get a car just like that. Robert eventually sold the Judge off, it had become time to get something else. I learned to turn wrenches with my dad. I became friends with Robert as an adult and asked him where the Judge ever ended up. It was several hours away and the owner didn't want to part with it. Projects came and went, nothing was ever quite right. My dad passed away in 2023 leaving me with the garage he taught me to turn wrenches in. In 2024, we found out we were expecting a baby. We found out it was a boy. If I said I wasn't immediately looking for a father and son project, I'd be lying. I reminisced on the times spent with my own father, imagining what I'll be teaching my own son in the coming years. I spent a little over a year browsing marketplaces online and nothing quite seemed right. And then it happened. That guy that bought the Judge off Robert when I was still a teenager came into town to visit with Robert. I mustered up the stones to ask him if he'd consider selling me the Judge so I could put it together with my son. He'd had plenty of offers in the past, but my story of admiring it as a child and wanting my own child to have the same kind of memories struck a chord. My dream car was going to come back home. She's a little worse for the wear. The wife and I have been finding all the missing pieces to order for it. Needs to be painted back to the original carousel red get a fresh interior. A new power train is in order, brakes and trim. But the bones are there. I can get it back together. Just owning it feels like a victory. Getting to restore her to her original glory is just icing on the cake. My son's third word was vroom. He might be a miniature version of myself.