I knew what most of them were but the bumper jack was much newer than anything I still have around. All except for a few posted I do have and several old FMC wrench's.
If I might ask how many of you bought reclaimed motor oil? Where you went to the back of the service station (you know) the ones where the "Gas War" sign was at and pumped the glass bottle or the can with a spout on it. Then paid your $.15 a qt. and all left of your dollar for the $.19.9 per gal gas.
I could cruse all night in my 56 Chevy with the hot little "265" in it.
Yup, I was one. We called it "Bulk Oil". Used in the 235 6-banger in my '54 Chevy panel (not sedan delivery, 1/2T panel). Also had oil bath air filter. Gawd I wish I'd kept that truck. Was hella party rig in high school.. could get 10 of us in there + the beer. Dad had a mattress custom made for hunting camp. Mom hated that he'd let me take it on the weekend dance nights.. don't know why.. haha. Ended up buying it from him for $150.
That SOB with chains on it would pass by the 4x4s in the snow. Pop burned up the engine on a very steep & loose climb betting the 4x4 gang (younger guys back then) he could put it on top with them. Had 3 guys on the rear bumper and put it up there. Don't get me started..
Too late.. on my first antelope hunt (prairie goat) about age 12 in the '46 panel he had earlier there were 2 guys on the rear bumper, one on each running board hanging onto the 'western' mirrors, and a guy on each front fender hanging onto the top mounted directional lights like saddle-horns - all locked and loaded - as we raced through the sage brush full-tilt-boogie trying to flank the herd for some shootin'. I'm sittin' on a wooden chair between the bucket seats just thinking how much cooler this is compared to Disneyland.. Those dang goats would get fenced in and run back and forth, back and forth between the fences, just like an arcade, while a bunch of former infantry each with their own fencepost emptied their .06s ('03 Springfields) and never touching a hair. Boom, bang, cuss, boom, bang, cuss. What I wouldn't give to have that day again.
Go jail for that crap now.
Now I have to go to the shop and dig up some old tools
