There are cars, and then there are legends. For me, a 1963 Ford Falcon Sprint Convertible named Lucille is more than just a vehicle. She embodies freedom, resilience, and a lifetime of memories. This is the story of my undying love for Lucille, the ups and downs of her journey, and the dedication that kept her alive.
My Youth and First Car
Growing up in Greenwich, Connecticut, my daily two-mile walk to school seemed endless. By the age of 14, I had already taught myself how to drive, eagerly awaiting my 16th birthday. My mother had a special gift in store—my first and only car: a beautiful 1963 Ford Falcon Sprint Convertible.
Vanilla-colored with a striking red interior and a white convertible top, she had a manual transmission and a 260-cu.in. V-8 engine. She wasn’t just a car; she was my ticket to independence, an invitation to adventure, and a witness to my teenage years.
Losing and Finding My Falcon
After high school, I commuted to New York City for college. One careless night, I left the keys in the ignition outside my parents’ house. The next morning, she was gone.
Police advised me to wait—it was likely a joyride. Sure enough, the next day, they found her abandoned in Fairfield. She had minor dents, and the battery was missing, but she was still mine. I brought her home, vowing to never let her go.
Failed Restoration Attempts
Years passed, and my Falcon sat in my parents’ garage. My nieces and nephews played in her while my father suggested selling her. I refused.
Eventually, I entrusted her to a local mechanic, only to find that he left her outdoors for a year. Rust consumed her body. I then took her to another shop in Port Chester, but the results were heartbreaking—hidden body filler, a rotting frame, and a tattered convertible top.
Driving her to another shop, she broke down in the rain. I knew I had to do better.
The Final Restoration
With my husband Mark’s support, I found the strength to restore Lucille properly. Inspired by her original colors, he named her after Lucille Ball.
With his experience at a car dealership, Mark guided me to a specialized restoration garage. After a year of careful work, Lucille was reborn, nearly identical to her original state.
Adventures with Lucille
Lucille became a rare sight on the roads. We took her to Coney Island, Jones Beach, Mystic, and Avalon. When not on the road, she had a secure home in a garage in New York City.
Hurricane Sandy and Rebuilding Again
On October 22, 2012, Hurricane Sandy hit. From our eighth-floor apartment, the damage seemed minimal until news reports confirmed the devastation. Our garage, just two blocks from the East River, had flooded. Lucille was submerged up to her hood.
We towed her to a shop in Branford, Connecticut. Over five years, we painstakingly restored her—reupholstering seats, painting parts in our apartment basement, and supervising the rebuild.
Conclusion
Lucille’s journey was one of resilience. Despite theft, neglect, and even a natural disaster, she survived. With Mark’s support and my unwavering love, we brought her back to life—again and again.
To me, Lucille isn’t just a car. She is history, perseverance, and love, rolled into a vanilla-colored body with a fiery red heart. And as long as I breathe, she will never fade away.
