My father had a 53 Plymouth, stick shift, six cylinder. Great commuter and kind of cute.
When he transferred, selling the house and Plymouth fell to me...up there on the hill.
Naturally, three guys showed up at the same time to see it and I could see a bidding frenzy coming on!
So, we all loaded into the car, ran around in the flats for awhile, and started bidding on the way back.
Things went fine until the little flat head refused to pull four people back up the hill.
It came down to "make an offer or get out and walk". One of them did have enough sense of humor to buy it but he got quite a discount.
Dad learned a lesson from that, years later when his Rambler barfed it's transmission on the freeway he coasted down a ramp, parked it on a surface street, and left the pink slip under a windshield wiper.
Well maintained, the Mopar L head (flathead) 6 was a mountain goat. I had one in a 1952 Plymouth and it didn’t have the horsepower but the Torque was phenominal. I am sorry I wrecked that car.
That’s a great story...brightened my day. Thank you.
Ramblers — hadn’t thought about those in a long time. A neighbor had one, but as I recall, it wasn’t the kind of car to take out on a highway. Your father was a brave soul for driving his on a freeway. :)