It has often been said that last mile is the toughest - and nowhere is this more true than in a restoration project.  But wait - there's more...  If you feel bad about your own languishing restoration project, you're going to appreciate this one.

In June of 1974, my father went shopping for a car for my mother.  He found one at work at his Department of Defense job in Fort Meade, Maryland.  It was a tough and tumble seven year old '67 Mustang hardtop for sale by the original owner for $400.  We rushed over to Tacoma Park, Maryland to pick it up.  The left rear quarter panel was bashed in, back bumper was whacked, paint was deteriorating, and it had no brakes.  Odometer showed 80,000 miles.  It also had a noise in the front end most us know as squeaky upper control arm bushings.  He carefully drove it home with me following him down the Capital Beltway, then, put me to work making it safe for my mother to drive. 

Imagine - my grocery getter mom driving a sporty Mustang when I had grown so used to her driving less than sporty stuff like run-of-the-mill Plymouth and Buick sedans. 

At the time, I had a Dark Moss Green '67 Mustang hardtop I spruced up and enjoyed until it was totaled in an accident in the fall of 1976.  My mother, heartbroken over my loss, handed me the keys and title to her Nightmist Blue '67 Mustang hardtop.  It has been in my possession ever since.  It has been with me every place I've ever lived as an adult - some 34 years.  I will never forget her great act of generosity when I remember how much she loved her Mustang.   My mother has been gone more than a year after a long struggle with dementia.  She was 84 when she passed. 

You may not believe this, but I tore my mother's '67 Mustang hardtop apart in 1985 the first time I was at Mustang Monthly Magazine.  It was going to be a leisurely two year project - a concours restoration I would accomplish in my Central Florida garage.  The years following Mustang Monthly in the late 1980s and early 1990s weren't easy ones for me personally - divorce, career pursuit, children, several long distance moves, and a host of other issues kept my disassembled hardtop in dry-dock for many years.

There were days when I was convinced it would never be finished.  That it survives is an amazing story.  It was nearly lost one time due to back due rent at a storage place.  Destitute and out of money, I put it up for sale in the MCA's Mustang Times.  Ironically, and at a bargain basement price just to unload it, there were no takers - an invitation to hang tough and press on.

I am convinced my '67 Mustang has been in more states disassembled than any other Mustang out there - Florida, Tennessee, Missouri, Michigan, and California.  It has been hauled through a bunch of them in pieces.  I've hauled it around on car trailers and in the boxes of Ryder and U-Haul trucks.  And though all the many and varied moves, parts have been lost or damaged.  One time, the '67 nearly fell off a car trailer en route to Tennessee in the middle of the night.  It is a story of perseverance I intend to tell in Mustang Monthly one of these days when the car is finished and magazine ready. 

It wasn't until 1994 when I came to Los Angeles to join our sister magazine, Modified Mustangs & Fords that things began to happen for a forgotten bare steel hardtop.  It has been a long, slow, snail's pace project ever since.

When I think of my '67 hardtop, I think of the plumber with leaky faucets or the shoe cobbler who needs fresh soles.  I spend most of my time working magazine projects, which tends to consume the creative energy necessary to finish my own car.  I discussed this psychology with Garrett Marks of Mustangs Etc. and we both came to the same conclusion.  We both have enviable jobs in career fields we each enjoy.  But, when the day is done, there's little steam left for our own car projects.  Garrett has quite the collection of classic cars - a '59 Edsel wagon, '69 SportsRoof with 390, a '60 Rambler, '57 Ford sedan, '65 Falcon Ranchero, and a host of others.  The standing joke between us is, "Hey, got that Edsel done yet?" - "Nope - you done with that '67?"

I am down to that last mile on my '67 Mustang - yet I am unhappy with my work.  Windows won't operate smoothly no matter what I do with them.  Yet, I am supposed to know how to properly adjust them.  Transmission leaks.  Seat upholstery needs to be done over again because it has been sitting for so long.  Engine needs to come apart to correct improper cam timing.  There's paint damage here and there due to my fluid smooth manual dexterity (I'd never make a good brain surgeon).  Exhaust system needs adjustment, then, welded up.  There's a host of other pet peeves I just can't live with I feel compelled to fix before rolling the car out for anyone to see. 

So I look to you - our readers.  How do you cover that last mile of a restoration project without floundering?  How do you close the gap and cross the finish line?  Write to me at jim.smart@sorc.com or thesmart67@msn.com.  I'd like to hear your suggestions and comments.  I'd also like to hear your horror stories.  After all - misery loves company.