Auto Car | Ford Mustang Convertible--Beach 1965 | It was April 17, 1965, when I rolled off Ford's very busy Dearborn assembly line. It was also the day Ford Motor Company was celebrating the first anniversary of the debut of the most successful new car in automotive history. A year earlier America had gotten its first glimpse of Ford's highly anticipated and much touted all new "sporty" car. Small and economical, yet sexy and exciting, the Mustang was not a true sports car. But it was close enough and it was an instant sensation. For the first time "a poor man's Thunderbird" was available for only $2368, a true bargain price even back in the Sixties. Mustang Madness, Mustang Mania -- call it what you will. All of America, especially the emerging youth market, instantly fell in love with the "pony car".
In twelve months Ford had sold over 400,000 Mustang two-door hardtops, convertibles and 2+2 fastbacks, the latter having been introduced midway through that exciting first year. I felt great pride in being born a Mustang. Not only was I immensely popular, I was also a well-built car. Even the ever-critical Consumer Reports magazine was impressed by the "almost complete absence of poor fit and sloppy workmanship in a car built at a hell-for-leather pace."
As if I were not proud enough to be a Mustang, I had the added privilege of being one of the first of my breed to come equipped with an optional GT package. Ford modified my 289 cubic inch V-8 engine to generate a high-performance 271 horsepower. My special five-gauge instrument panel included a speedometer that boasted a top speed of 140 miles per hour -- a bit of a stretch I admit.
As I was loaded for travel to a dealership in Tennessee, I knew an anxious buyer would be awaiting my arrival. I was a convertible dressed in a reddish-orange coat of paint designated Poppy Red, and I felt like a star on my way to fulfill an adoring fan's dream. Throughout the journey all eyes were focused on the semi-trailer truck that transported me. Their expressions were those of admiration and yearning.
Source : www.cruiserart.com
In twelve months Ford had sold over 400,000 Mustang two-door hardtops, convertibles and 2+2 fastbacks, the latter having been introduced midway through that exciting first year. I felt great pride in being born a Mustang. Not only was I immensely popular, I was also a well-built car. Even the ever-critical Consumer Reports magazine was impressed by the "almost complete absence of poor fit and sloppy workmanship in a car built at a hell-for-leather pace."
As if I were not proud enough to be a Mustang, I had the added privilege of being one of the first of my breed to come equipped with an optional GT package. Ford modified my 289 cubic inch V-8 engine to generate a high-performance 271 horsepower. My special five-gauge instrument panel included a speedometer that boasted a top speed of 140 miles per hour -- a bit of a stretch I admit.
As I was loaded for travel to a dealership in Tennessee, I knew an anxious buyer would be awaiting my arrival. I was a convertible dressed in a reddish-orange coat of paint designated Poppy Red, and I felt like a star on my way to fulfill an adoring fan's dream. Throughout the journey all eyes were focused on the semi-trailer truck that transported me. Their expressions were those of admiration and yearning.
Source : www.cruiserart.com
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