I come from a large family, with 4 sisters and 2 brothers. We grew up in Tempe & Mesa, Arizona, with the family still residing in the area. (except me? awwww *sniff) Cruising Main was just a right of passage... true "American Graffiti" style. At least until Mesa passed a law against it, sadly my kids never got to experience that thrill.
We lost our oldest brother Bill, (aka "Bull" ) late last month.
As a little girl in Tempe, I remember Dad and Bill working on Dad's race cars. Dirt tracks, ovals and even the demolition derby. Bill always loved his cars.
With the kind of horsepower that rumbles thru your whole body, healthy, deep, loud, raw, loping kind of horsepower. Before I left home, I spent quite a bit of time fetching tools for him while he worked on his car. Even earned grease under my fingernails a time or two. There was the time he let me drive his precious Ford truck.. my very first time behind the wheel. He forgot to explain the lack of power steering to this 14 year old, petite, skinny armed girl, who could barely see over the hood nor did he explain that the slower you go, the harder it is to turn! I nearly ran his truck into the neighbors large decorative boulder.. and I never lived it down. lol.
Over the years Bull restored and customized quite a few projects, then he'd sell it, and start all over on a new one. He also helped start a local car club called "The Pack". Car buffs, old cars, classic cars, new ones, custom rods, works in progress, all were there. Car shows, Rod Runs, awards, ribbons and trophies... his Buddies in The Pack, that was Bull.
regular Saturday evening hang out in East Mesa.
I would have told him.