Bill Nelson’s 1966 Ford Mustang Shelby GT350
Bill Nelson’s Mustang Story:
“My name is Bill Nelson, and this is my Shelby story. I was walking home from Inglewood High School in California in 1965. As I passed by the local Ford dealership, I saw a 1965 Shelby Mustang sitting on the showroom floor. It was so ‘tough looking’ with the blue stripes, the hood scoop and the wheels. It said two things very clearly: ‘Performance Spoken Here!’ and ‘Color Me Gone!’ My face was plastered against the glass. I have never forgotten that moment.
“Fast forward to 1999. I purchased my dream — a 1966 Ford Mustang Shelby GT350 Carryover, SFM 6S202. Then the fun began — driving it, washing it, waxing it and changing the oil. ‘We’re having big fun now!’ I attended the Gathering of the Cobras at the Petersen Museum hosted by Lynn Park. Carroll Shelby was there. It was a great event. I bumped into an old friend, Mike Degles, who, like me, had just recently purchased his Shelby Mustang. Both of our cars were in about the same shape — Shelbys with 35 years on them.
“The next year Lynn Park put on another Gathering of the Cobras. I saw Mike again and parked my car next to a ‘brand new ‘66 Shelby.’ I got out of my car and said Hi to Mike and asked, ‘Where is your car?’ He said, ‘That’s it,’ as he pointed to the new ‘66 Shelby Mustang. OMG, the car looked sooo good! It had incredible brand-new paint with blue stripes. I had to ask: ‘Okay, Mike, who painted it?’ He told me, ‘A guy named Bob Cunningham.’
“At around 3 p.m. the event started breaking up and people started leaving. As I walked around, I saw another Shelby Mustang owner getting his picture taken with his Shelby and Carroll Shelby. Afterwards, I asked the owner, ‘How did you do that?’ The owner responded, ‘How did I do what?’ So I asked, ‘How did you get your picture taken with Carroll Shelby and your car?’ He responded, ‘I asked him.’ I said, ‘Oh, that’s a good idea.’ Up to that point, the very idea of Carroll Shelby, me and my Shelby Mustang being in the same picture — yeah, right, that’s never going to happen! But now that wall had fallen. I mumbled out loud, ‘But, I didn’t bring a camera.’ Jack Richards, another friend, was standing next to me and said, ‘I have one.'
“I quickly pulled my car up and turned to find Carroll surrounded by 30 people. Oh boy, this is not going to work. Then, as if on-cue, they all walked away. Carroll was all by himself for a moment; I had never seen that before. So I walked over and asked if he would take a picture with me and my car. ‘Well, sure. Where is it?’ he asked. ‘Right there,’ I said. As we walked over, I put my prescription glasses in my back pocket. Carroll put this arm around me, and I put my arm around him, and my friend Jack started taking pictures of us. As we stood there, I told Carroll about seeing my first Shelby when I was in high school, and how I couldn’t afford the car then, but now I could. I thanked him for the racing and the wins and all the cars and my car, because if he had not done all that, we wouldn’t be having all this fun.
Carroll turned and shook my hand and said, ‘That’s great! Just keep driving the car and having fun!’
“I walked away. I was on Cloud 9. As such, I never did thank Jack and instead walked over to see some other friends. They were talking. I know that because words were coming out of their mouths, but I was still on Cloud 9. Then out of nowhere this guy is standing there holding my glasses that had fallen out of my pocket. I realized he had saved my glasses from being crushed, but he was really unhappy and was yelling at me, ‘I yelled at you three times, and you just kept walking!’ I responded, ‘Gee, thanks for saving my glasses. They’re really expensive.’ But he was still upset and continued yelling, ‘I yelled at you three times, and you just kept walking!’ Finally, I fell off Cloud 9 and landed back in the conversation. I responded in a firm voice, ‘LOOK. I just had my picture taken with GOD! GOT IT?’ He responded, ‘Oh,’ and calmly walked away.
“The next day I called Bob Cunningham and introduced myself and asked when I could bring my car in for painting. Many visits and many phone calls later, the squeaky wheel got greased. Bob painted the outside and the inside and later the engine compartment. It looked great. I was in heaven.
“I am a car enthusiast. I use my Shelby for what it was made to do. I drive it. I drive it to visit friends. I drive it on the curves. I drive it to see the Pacific Ocean. I drive it to get an In-N-Out burger. (A side note — I have talked my way into two free burgers when I showed the managers a picture of my car that is in their ‘At the Beach’ poster.) And I drive it to car shows, including the Monterey Historics.
“One year, my wife’s 14-year-old niece, Kristy, decided to attend the Monterey Historics with us. We took the Shelby. We went up Highway 101 through King City. It was summertime, and it was hot. We stopped for lunch, and as Kristy walked to the restaurant, she grabbed the back of her sweaty T-shirt and pulled it away from her back. I heard her say, ‘Eww!’ Knowing she was unhappy the Shelby didn’t have air conditioning, I said, ‘Welcome to the ‘60s.’
“Getting a thumbs-up after spending hours cleaning and waxing your car is always appreciated, and I give it to others when I see an older car that is in great shape. The make and model are not important to a true car person. What is important is how well the owner has taken care of his pride and joy. A while ago I pulled into a gas station and noticed a guy standing next to his car and staring intently at my Shelby. I said to myself, ‘Great, a car guy. We’ll have a ‘car conversation.’
“He was on the left side of the pump island, and I pulled up on the right side. As I got out, he was still staring at the car, and I said, ‘Hey, how are you doing?’ He said, ‘Fine,’ and turned and walked away. I thought, that is strange. Then I looked to see what kind of car he was driving. It was a brand-new, black Chevy Camaro SS. Okay, the guy wants to be a jerk — let him.
“After I pumped my gas I got in and started buckling up my 4-point harness. Another customer comes in behind me, but a cone by his pump showed it was out of service. For him to get gas I needed to move, so, I started the Shelby up, drove over to the exit and continued buckling up my 4-point harness. The Camaro started up and pulled in behind me thinking I was going to pull into traffic. I was still buckling up and motioned him by. He pulled up next to me, but traffic prevented him from moving into the street. Then the passenger-side window rolled down. Behind it was an unbelievably cute young lady. She looked at me with her big, beautiful smile and said, ‘I just love your car!’ I thought, YES, THERE IS A CAR GOD! She fixed his wagon and didn’t even know it. I am sure a testy argument erupted over that one.
“For those of you who have never driven a Shelby, you might wonder what is it like to drive and own a Shelby Mustang. For me it is being a part of/experiencing history. It’s the freedom. It’s being buried in the seatback under hard acceleration. It’s the sound of ‘Performance Spoken Here.’ Plus the rawness. The dumped front end. The tach on the dash. The American mags. It’s looking out and seeing those blue stripes over the hood scoop. Those are some of the emotions/feelings you experience when driving a Shelby. But the best description I have ever heard was by a friend of mine, Louis Thibaut, after he laid down a long patch of rubber in his Shelby Mustang: ‘When you’re driving this car, it’s like you’re 16 again’!”
(photo credit: Ford Perfoemance)
