I didn't start my street racing until the early 70's but I was lucky that my neighborhood was full of guys a little older than I who took me with them. This crowd included big block Chevelles and Camaros plus a lot of RoadRunners and even a couple of Six Pack cars. I grew up in central Conn so we had the Berlin Turnpike where a real mean black 67 Hemi GTX hung out and the East West service roads in Hartford. It was a great time to be young. I remember one of the older guys had Tourette's syndrome pretty bad where he couldn't hardly carry on a conversation but after three beers he settled down, stopped shaking and could really row his 4 speed Chevelle with the best of them, go figure!. The streets today are too crowded to do the same stuff but it was fun then.
Joey

Not sure if this fits, but I hope you guys like it. It's a story I wrote for my local car club newsletter a few years ago. I agree street racing today is stupid, and they will throw you under the jail if caught.

1969 Charger R/T vs. 1971 GT-37

Flashback to late May 1983, first Saturday after graduating High School, I'm cruising in my trusty Green 1969 Charger R/T, 440 4-spd car, and run into a fellow Senior in his car. We didn't run in the same crowd, so we never spoke during school, however, we'd often pass each other while cruising the 2 lane highway that ran through the middle of town. We'd always rev our engines at each other, bounce the front-ends and other stupid crap teenagers do. But, we never met side by side until this night. He pulled out from a gas station on the main drag just as I pulled out from a side street onto that same stretch, meeting each other at the same time.

He had a Red 1971 Pontiac GT-37. I believe it was a 400 auto with the typical cam, headers and carb. My car was stock, but of course it was a Big Block Mopar! Anyway, we drove up through town for the next couple of blocks goosing the cars. We stopped at an intersection, which just happened to be beside an old walk-in movie theater that had been converted to a Holy Roller Church. The Church was letting out at the time we pulled up to the light. The sidewalk was full of very serious looking people.

The GT-37 driver brought it up against the stall, which got the attention of the Churchgoers. I tried to be cool and idle the 440 up to 1500 rpm while holding the clutch. I got nervous and ran it up to about 2500 and the light turned Green. I dumped the clutch and left the line absolutely smoking the tires, bias-ply’s mind you - G-60-14's. So did the GT-37, but not quite as bad. As my car slid right, I could see he had me by a fender off the line due to my over-revving. I still remember the open jawed bystanders as we left the line. My car quickly ran up to the shift point and I nailed second.

When I hit second, it was like the Charger hit warp speed, I left the GT-37 in the weeds. I literally pulled him so hard that by the time I was in mid third gear, I backed out of it because he was wayyyyy behind. I waited for him to catch up. He pulled up beside me and gave me the obligatory loser nod. I was cool, and gave a slight nod back. That's right, I won, you lost. Don't mess with Mopar. Yada, yada, yada.

Anyway, it was late by the time all this happened, so I drove home. As I pulled in the driveway, I heard something funny. The car didn't sound right. Oh no, had I hurt it? I got out and listened, it was missing. Hmmm, not good. I popped the hood in the gravel driveway and dug out the flashlight. As I scanned the engine compartment, it hit me. Number 7 plug wire was swinging in the breeze. I plugged it back and she purred like a kitten again. So, not only did I beat the GT-37, but I did it on 7 cylinders! Ok, ok, it was a 400 Pontiac, but hey 7 cylinders is kinda cool don't you think?

I left for Army basic training shortly thereafter and didn't think much about it. Just another easy kill. Then, my running buddy from high school, Jimmy, sends me a letter. In it he detailed how the GT-37 driver was running his mouth about how fast his car was. Jimmy, being the ultimate cool guy, saunters up in the middle of the crowd and states that he knows where a certain Green Charger is, if he really wants to race and thinks he's fast. The GT-37 driver wasn't a happy camper at that announcement and publicly turned down Jimmy's offer, receiving several derisive remarks from the crowd. That letter really brightened up my day after being yelled at by Drill Sergeants all day.

I did not see the GT-37 driver again for many years. But, around 12 years after that fateful May night, there was a car show close to my hometown. I happened to be in town visiting the folks. I decided to drop in, and he was there with his car. I was impressed he still had it. Looked like he had just painted it, it was missing the decals. No mistaking it was the same car. I didn’t see him until I was getting ready to leave. I resisted the urge to go up to him and say, "Hey, the last time I saw you; you were in my rear view mirror". Instead, as I was finishing a conversation with someone, he walked by, looked at me, did a double take, I nodded and smiled, and he moved out swiftly. I thought to myself, “Well, I guess he doesn’t want to talk to me.” I left and went back to my folk’s house, not thinking much about it. I regret not following him and at least saying, “Hi”.

Attached pic is Jimmy and I, December 1984, while on leave from the Army from beautiful West Germany.

As far as I'm concerned it fits and fits very well. Thanks for the story.

One of my favorite memories. A savvy street racer always just wins by a fender... My Challenger had the original, dull paint, stock exhaust manifolds and a 383 pie tin on the extremely worked 440. I was up against a 455 SD Trans Am. Coming out of the hole I got into it a bit too much and ended up on the dirt shoulder of the road. I got it back on the road and then proceeded to reel in the 8 or 10 carlengths that the SD had gained.
No one would race me the rest of the night after that, everyone did want to look under the hood though.

Sheldon

It was 1964-68, and most of the street racing around here was stoplight to stoplight out on US70, a four-lane stretch just outside of the city limits. It wasn't chock full of businesses like today, and our county only had one or two state troopers on duty at any given time.In those days, NC law split street racing into two types:1) spontaneous, where you just rolled up beside someone at a light, asked them if they wanted to go, and nailed it on the green; 2) pre-arranged, where the racers met somewhere 1st to decide when and how the race would be run. Anyone doing prearranged ran the risk of having the book thrown at them if caught--arrested, car confiscated and possibly sold by the court; anyone who gathered to watch the race got charged as well if they were caught. There was some of this going on in a county next door, even to the point of marking off the quarter mile with spray paint. The highway patrol watched this one pretty close, so you had to pick your night and time.
I had a 57 Pontiac Star Chief 2dr hardtop that was good off the line, good enough for a few stoplight encounters till I got smarter. Lots of Chevelle SS 396s, GTOs, modified 57 Chevy's, Mopars of all descriptions, you name it, it was out there.
The town got bigger--more police, more troopers in the county, lots more traffic, and we grew up. Nobody crashed, nobody got hurt, and only a very few ever got arrested for prearranged racing...most of the tickets that were written for spontaneous racing got changed to speeding or reckless driving in court.Different days then. I have heard it said that experience is really nothing but being able to survive your mistakes--may be something to that.

Not a story from the 60`s or 70`s but from 1981. I bought a 1969 Dart Swinger 340 from a guy in the neighborhood that had the car just sitting out on the street in front of the neighborhood grocery store. I had a 1968 Firebird with a 389 and 3 2bbls that I had traded for a 1968 Dart Western Sports Special with a trusty slant six that I bought for $400.00. The guy with the dart lived aross the street from the grocery store and I would often see him and his buddies hanging out in the garage wrenching on cars mostly gm products. Everytime I went to that store he would eyeball the firechicken and I would look at the Dart. One day he came out and asked if I wanted to sell the bird and I said sure if that Dart is for sale. We ended up trading and I ended up pushing the dart a block away to my house due to a bad transmission. Turned out the guy bought the Dart from the original owner with about 150,000 on the clock and beat the crap out of it. He actually painted the car white over the faded Y2 yellow with a spray can and it looked pretty beat. It was completly original and I was a happy camper as I now had my first factory high performance mopar. I ended up pulling the trans in the street and had it rebuilt with a nice shift kit. I gave it a complete tune up with new wires and all and it roarded to life. Once it was running I quickly realized it also needed a 3rd member as the original 323`s were clunking. I swapped them out for a set of junk yard 391`s and all was well. Me and a buddy of mine were out cruising the streets of San Francisco one night when we decided to head down the penisula to San Mateo where they had a big cruise every Friday & Saturday night on the El Camino Real. We drove down and cruised the main street for a bit and though my Dart sounded good it looked a bit rough, actually the original vinyl top was ripped/shredded and a good portion of it was missing. We came across 4 guys in a 66 Chevelle SS 396 that was painted candy apple red with stripes that sounded hot and looked good, and these guys started yelling out the window with the mopars are -rap -hit and wanted to race. Well up untill that point I had never raced anyone in my life and was a bit nervous. We came to a red light and we were side by side. I heard him rev his engine so I held the brake and brought the rpms up a bit and shifted into low. When the light turned green he passed me and made it across the intersection first. But I was catching him and when I hit second my little dart pulled away from the Chevelle badly. Pulled into a station a couple of blocks away and the guys in the Chevelle followed. They jumped out of the car and said what do you have under the hood? You should have seen their faces when they all saw that greasy stock 340 sitting in the hole even with its factory aircleaner still in place. My buddy looked at them all and said you guys just got stung by the Dodge Scat Pack and Chevys Suck! This is my story and I am sticking to it.

Back in the mid 70s we used to cruise Archer av in Chicago, for some stoplight action..
Anyway,
I was driving the 68 Charger with a Dyer's blown 440 in my sig. and one of the header cones breaks off, leaving one side open...It was Loud..really loud.
So the guy in a early nova with a built small block needs to try out the blown Charger...
The results were predictable, but Chicago's finest was not far away and heard but did not see anything illegal...
I would up with an opportunity to contribute to the Chicago budget...

My first Mopar..a black 62 Dodge Dart, 361 auto. This is 1967 and I'm 17. Picked it up on Friday evening and drove it to school on Monday. Monday after school, with 4 of my buddies in the car, a bow tie is right on my bumper after we pull out of the school parking lot so I'm gonna show him who has the fastest car so I nailed it and of course so did he, still behind me but in the same lane as this was a narrow street in midtown Indy. Well an officer pulls me over and writes me a ticket for a 50 in a school zone, drag racing, loud pipes and reckless driving, lets the other guy go.

Go to court with my mom (my dad knew the judge) and I'm only charged with reckless driving (6 points)but the judge tells me to give my keys and license to my mom for 3 months. After leaving the court room she refuses to give me my keys and license back and to make matters worse she drives my car for the next 3 months and yes all my buddies saw her driving my new ride, how embarrasing. However, other than a speeding ticket in the same year I haven't had a ticket since and now I'm 59 & 5/16. Guess I learned my lesson: Speed is for the drag strip not the streets and interstates.

Thanks for sharing these stories fellas....I am only 30 and never really did any street racing in my time. Played a few times on the track and a few times harassing the imports but I wish I lived in the hay day and got to experience what you guys did....Its my generation and the next one to keep these stories alive...

1976, as a junior in HS I owned a respectable 1972 340 3-sp duster.After the usual "farmer's boy modifications" the car ran like hell, and for some reason always seemed to beat any small block. and several big blk. cars. My favorite story was in 76 after spending time at the local drive-in some Charles City guys in a 455 trans am started "chest beating" We took it to a back road blk. top and settled it for 50 bucks. The start was even but when I hit 2nd. I pulled 3 car lengths ahead and never looked back...as we stopped at the local car lot they jumped out and screamed what the hell do you got in there! I popped the hood and they left shaking there heads and 50 bucks lighter they couldn't get past the stock air-cleaner...Fast forward to 1991 after college and paying off loans, I had accumulated 4 or 5 mopars. One was a 71 340 4spd blk on blk duster. when I bought it in 85 it sported a custom 3-tone paint job and stripped for the 1/4 mile.. I painted it vit. c dropped in a 440, 509 cam, 915 hds with mild port and max. wedge valves, 4 spd with low 2nd. gear, and added b-body dana with 4.56 gears, street stickies and SS springs, 90/10 front shocks , fenderwall hooker headers, 850 double pumper on holley High rise with spacer.. .. car ran 11.60's through exhaust and would pull the wheels ... one night I brought the beast out I ran into a 64 ford falcon. it sported a "lumpy" sound, roll bar, super lites rims, big tac on dash and gorgeous girlfriend..the stage was set on a 3 lane university ave. in Cedar Falls Iowa, I was in the middle lane,Ford on left and a bunch of HS kids on my right in a chevette..On launch the duster pt. up and I only had to " slide step and spd. shift 1,2and into 3rd.. by that time I was way out front and coasted to the next light...the girl smiled and said " wow damn nice car" the driver never looked, and the HS. boys went nuts.. I just rumbled away later I put in a tran-brake, j-converter, and would run 11.15 all day long....now I'm going to repaint it blk. with ghost flames and add a 400 stroker.....

My recollection of that time ( I am 54) was the endless lines of muscle cars cruising in traffic backed up for miles.. Main idea was checking out the ladies going in the opposite direction.. Traffic was so slow you could get a good look at them... Usually had to go blow out the plugs a couple of times a night, and make some cool down runs...

Very similar to the cruises nowadays ( without the crowds of people on the sidewalks) except these were our " everyday drivers"....

It was about 1976 and I was visiting my friend in Red Deer Alberta in my 67 GTX. We were cruising around and were on some main street (Gaetz ave?) which headed out of town and onto the freeway, we were following a hot rodded 69 Ford pickup and something else, my friend thought they were going out of town to race. Well right in front of us they both jumped on it at the green light. I thought to myself "hey they must be racing lets keep up" well I was behind the car but I wasn't all the way into the throttle so I matted it, got around the car then changed lanes again and got the pickup too.

Sheldon

Growing up in NYC in the late 60s/early 70s streetracing was as common as sewer rats so any gerhead from then has tons of stories. You could literally go anywhere and find a race on one of NYC's many highways. In Queens, one of the places to hang was the World's Fair Marina parking lot not far from Shea Stadium. We'd meet there, set-up a race & go up on the Van Wyck Expressway and square-off. The neat thing about the lot was, for some reason they had laid two strips of asphalt on either side the length of the lot. Guys would do burn-outs & generally show-off while everyone parked in between these two strips.
Back then I had a tubbed & caged Chevy powered Pinto (apply appropriate comments here) that was "ProStreet" before the term became popular. On this particular night some guy comes in with a '68 or so Mustang, smokes the tires the length of the asphalt strip, jumps out & says he'll run ANYONE for ANY amount--dumb thing to do in NYC. Dumber still, my buddies convince me to square-off with him, but first I should "test" the car. I pull up onto the asphalt, bring the revs up & dump the clutch. The front-end rises somewhat, as expected, but when I grabbed second I felt a jolt I never really had felt before. I continue on my little "test", turn around & park across from the Mustang, get out & just lean against the car. Before my friends could get to me the guy jumps in his 'stang & bolts out of the lot. Confused, I just sit there until my friends join me. One of my friends then tells me the guy just about s#$t himself, as when I grabbed second I had apparently pulled the front wheels a foot or so! I had never done that before so I was (rightly) proud of the display. The pride didn't last long though as some guys from Brooklyn showed up with a trailerd car & wanted to run me. My wallet & ego simply couldn't afford that type of race.
Years later my Dad was doing some charity work outside Shea Stadium when he met a police officer who told a story of his older brother taking him to the street races near there when he was younger. He remembered a bright green Pinto he thought the guy driving it was nuts & wondered whatever became of it. My Dad just laughed & said he knew of the car & yes, the guy DID have a few screws loose. Thanks, Dad!

One of my favorite races was with my buddy's 426 Hemi GTX Rod shop built with 4.56 gears 4 spd and 2" Hooker headers. All this aginst my Duster 340 4 spd with a 292 cam and Custom headers.and 4.10s Three different times in 3 places I beat that car by a car The last time he screamed that I cheated due to power shifting! When I was younger I street raced almost daily during the summer and whenever I could in the winter! I loved it,I realize now how lucky I was not to get killed as we really pushed the cars but after 11 oclock there was no real traffic back late 60 early mid 70s By the way I still have the car and a nitrous bottle if need be which I did not have then

if u street raced in the 60's/early 70's in nyc, it started and ended on south ave. in staten island...