Written by Harry Laplatte on September 1, 2008
Our story begins on June 10, 1964. That’s the date my father got the call about the Plymouth he had ordered from Farraro Motors in Parsippany, New Jersey. There had been many phone calls and conversations in order for my father to get this very hard to obtain white ’64 Hemi Plymouth Savoy. It finally arrived at the dealership early one summer night on the back of a car transport. no fan fare, no big racer’s open house-it just arrived.
At the time I was just six years old, and my father asked me if I wanted to go see his new Plymouth with the “space age” engine. I immediately said yes. We drove to the dealership in my father’s ’64 Chevelle SS convertible, powered by a 327 and a four-speed.
Arriving at the dealership, we saw the trailer with two four-door cars, a station wagon, and this plain Jane grandma’s car on it. I asked my dad where the car was because I didn’t see a convertible or anything comparable to his SS. He said, “There it is,” and pointed to the post car on the back of the trailer with wheels that didn’t even match. yep, the grandma car was my father’s new car. At the time, I was devastated that he would buy such an uncool car. in 1964, if someone had a post car with no chrome, he or she was either old or had no style. Needless to say, I was disgusted at the thought of being driven to school in that, and I told my dad that I was just going to sit in the Malibu.