I own a 1959 Buick LeSabre Estate Wagon that I hope to finish restoring by its 50th birthday this year. Since I began, I have learned to weld, paint, plate, and sew pleather. I am proud to say that I learn by my mistakes and have had more than a few do-overs. My most interesting experience was to convincingly explain to airport security that the strange piece of equipment I was carrying was a power brake unit for my wagon and not a bomb. This was me in 1959, shortly after my Dad bought the car.
Welcome to the forums. I hope to be like you one day and learn how to do my own mechanics, weld, paint etc. Please keep us updated on your Buick's progress.
It's cool that you have a picture of you with the car from back in the day...and that you're restoring the car. Definitely a rare opportunity. Good luck in your restoration!!! :2_thumbs_up_-_anima
This is a really neat story. It's always cool to have a car that has been in the family for so long. I can just imagine trying to explain about the power brake booster too haha!
That's got to be rare. You and the car growing up and in your hands. That's awesome! Welcome to our growing home of real-world historians! If GM's Buick line survives this crisis, you should show them that pick and the on-going Restoration. That's a story.
DW...great story and pic...that rocks!! those are 1 stylish macheeen! look forward to seeing it to the Toolbox
Wow Welcome to the group. Not many people can ever say they know everything about the car they own. It is very special that you have that bond with your car.Please keep us up to date with you progress.
My dad's first car was a Straight-Six 1939 Pontiac with suicide doors. By the time he bought it, the engine was toast. The dealer had pulled out a bad piston and put a wooden plug in the cylinder and a dud spark plug to make the wires look right. Dad was a Wireless Air-gunner in WWII, and a piano player. He knew squat about cars. He soon learned. We had a Supertest gas station next to our house and the owner showed dad how to rebuild it. I flew out of that car once, at the ripe old age of 5 years, head first into a soft pile of fresh cow-dung. Some drunk twit side swiped our car on a two-lane dirt road and my door opened up. I was Superboy One in 1953! For a minute anyway! The old man got the car bug with that first car, and I got it when we owned and ran a scrapyard together.
Welcome, I wish I had anything from back then let alone a car. Did you always have to ride sitting on the back of the car or were you allowed to sit inside sometimes?
Thanks Stormin' Norman, I was trying to figure out what that car in the background was. It must have been a visitor. In my neighborhood, you could only find Lincolns or Cadillacs at the local funeral home. They would be the "professional" station wagons.
