A Midlife Crisis (AKA The Other Woman):  My (Husband's) Love Affair with a '41 Ford Convertible

by Scott Gilday (and his better half, Nicole Plenge-Gilday)

Our story begins in the spring of 2007.  I had been driving my '69 Mustang since I turned 16,  and after more than 20 years, I still loved my Mustang but was itching for a new challenge.  At the local car shows I had seen some gorgeous ‘36 Ford convertibles and had grown quite fond of them, which led to my online quest to find the perfect "project car.”  Unfortunately there were few "projects" out there, and the ones I found weren't cheap either.  So I decided to broaden my search.  I had always been fond of the Ford convertibles featured in popular movies when I was younger:  Biff’s black ’46 in Back to the Future and the yellow ’48 in Karate Kid.  After scouring the classifieds and internet for months, there was a ‘41 convertible for sale online that caught my eye.  I pursued her for a while, but it wasn’t meant to be.  Then in April I finally found her on eBay:  a ‘41 Ford Super Deluxe Convertible in need of some TLC. 

(Nicole:  At the time Scott found the ’41, we were approaching our 1st Anniversary and were about to learn we had a baby on the way.  Honestly, the prospect of Scott taking on a project like this didn’t really scare me as I had a good sense of what he was getting into.  My father too had had his midlife crisis:  a ’66 Corvette he tinkered with for about ten years before selling it.  Even while we were dating and living in the city, I lost count how many times Scott had called me from underneath his Mustang to say he’d lost his clutch linkage again – thanks to a problematic bushing he finally got around to replacing years later – and would be late.  There was also his mom’s ’86 Olds that ended up being a nightmare to repair, but don’t get me started on that.  Nevertheless, I knew a project like this would require a lot of time, patience, and dedication; and even though he had never attempted a complete frame-off restoration before, if anyone was up for the challenge, it was Scott.

Now before Scott could bid on the ‘41, he had to get my blessing.  You see, during our Pre-Cana marriage class, we came up with a $500 rule:  any purchases at or over that amount required spousal approval.  Needless to say, I gave him my blessing.  Marriage is all about making sacrifices and doing what you can to support your spouse’s happiness, right?  Though aside from losing a garage spot and sealing my car’s fate to the driveway, little did I know my sacrifices would also include the conversion of our basement into a parts shop.)

Getting back to the auction….the seller was looking to unload the shell of a ’41 that had no drive train and was supposedly 90% complete – though knowing what I do now, it was more like 60%.  He had bought her from someone who started restoring her back to her original condition but had never finished for unknown reasons.  The seller had planned to hot rod her, but fortunately he had too many other projects competing for his attention and decided to sell her.  So as fate would have it, now it was my turn to give her a new lease on life and restore her to her former glory. 

Since the seller lived in Idaho, in mid-May we worked out an arrangement to meet half-way near the Badlands in South Dakota.  At the time, I was working on a consulting project in Minneapolis Monday through Thursday and had to squeeze the trip into a three-day weekend, which made for a lot of driving.  In need of an extra hand and a tow vehicle, I decided to tell my dad about the car and ask for his help.  Despite any concerns he may have had about what I was getting myself into, he agreed to come along for the ride and to use his pickup.  So with my dad, his pickup, and an open trailer I rented, we set out on a Friday for South Dakota (Nicole:  Meanwhile, I was at my doctor’s, receiving confirmation that I was 11-weeks pregnant and viewing the first ultrasound images of our daughter.)   After picking up the car and parts that Saturday, we decided to drive straight through the night to make up time.  To add to our adventure, the tarp covering the car and parts managed to come loose about every half-hour, necessitating a stop.  Finally after 15 hours of driving, we made it home with everything intact except the tarp, which was completely shredded. Granted, after seeing the condition of the car and the ordeal getting her home, I’m sure my dad was thinking I had completely lost my mind.  (Nicole:  That weekend, Scott had also decided to tell his dad he was going to be a grandfather for the first time, which might have distracted him, though knowing him, it probably led him to further question Scott’s mental state.)

Engine  I started looking for an engine and happened to find an online ad from someone selling a group of flathead engines who lived only a few minutes away.  I met with him and was fortunate enough to find the correct ‘41 block, crank, and heads I needed.  Although they were a bit rough, they proved to be serviceable, with the exception of one head, which I had to replace.  He then put me in touch with a machine shop whose flathead work he recommended:  Opel Engineering in Streamwood.  Given that their area of expertise is racing engines, I found them to be extremely thorough, not to mention, very precise.  Everything was machined so well that there wasn’t any variance in the tolerances:  The entire rotating assembly – including the full-floating connecting rod bearings – went together without issue.   

The source of my engine block was also in the business of selling flathead engine kits, so I worked with him to procure all the parts for my rebuild.  However, due to some challenges he was facing on his end, some of my parts were delayed, setting my build timeline back by a few months.  Little did I know, it was the first of many project delays to come. 

Once I had all the parts in my possession, the engine build went very smoothly and was finished in a couple of months   Despite the initial delays, I was very impressed by the caliber of the parts.  For me, the most challenging part of the build was performing the initial adjustment of the valves, as you need to hold the lifters steady with a rather flimsy tool while applying a lot of torque to make the necessary adjustments.  On my next build, I plan to have holes drilled in the block valley so I can run a punch through to hold the lifters in place – a technique I read about in the Ford Flathead V-8 Builders Handbook. 

Body Work  Deciding who would restore the body of the ‘41 wasn’t an easy task.  I had considered two shops:  My engine contact had told me of someone he had used in the past who did work on hot rods and old Fords out in Woodstock;  and I had seen an ad in Hemmings for a shop on Route 47 in Yorkville.  I met with both shops and was very impressed with their operations.  But ultimately, I decided to go with Jeff Misurelli of Clagwell Inc. – incidentally named after the tractor in the TV series Green Acres as he’s a big antique tractor enthusiast.  When I took on the ’41, I knew I wanted to do as much of the work as I could on my own in order to broaden and hone my restoration skills.  Jeff would let me work collaboratively with him and manage whatever I could on my own, allowing me to take a much more hands on role in my restoration.  Another big consideration, especially with a project of this magnitude, was cost.  Jeff’s pricing seemed much more reasonable:  not only did he have less overhead as a one-man shop, but allowing me to do much of the work myself helped me keep my costs down. 

For the first step of the body work, Jeff had me trailer the chassis and body to Redi-Strip in Roselle for stripping. I had the body alkaline dipped to “burn” off any rust and the chassis media blasted.  After the dipping process, I was surprised to see just how much “bad” metal she had once all the paint, Bondo and rust was gone.  Unfortunately, the bodywork was going to be more involved than I had expected.  After evaluating our stripped body, Jeff and I determined the car would need extensive work on the rocker panels, lower cowls, lower rear quarter panels, trunk floor and doors – much of which was accomplished though the use of aftermarket patch panels.  We also noticed that the side pillar of the windshield frame on the driver side looked like it had been patched together.  We suspected the car might have been in an accident at some point in her history, which would also explain why the measurements on the driver’s side of the car were out of whack.  If only she could talk!

The biggest challenge we had with the ’41’s body was the poor condition of the convertible doors – which were literally in pieces – and the inability to align them with the other body parts around them.  I tried locating some convertible doors we could use, but wasn’t having any luck.  The seller had also included a pair of sedan doors with the ‘41, but as we found out, the inside shell and the thickness of the sedan doors were entirely different from the convertible.  So with no other options available, Jeff went ahead and started fabricating new doors from so many disparate pieces that he referred to them as “Franken-doors.”  Fortunately, I had a change of luck:  I found someone in St. Louis who happened to have a very clean pair of ‘41-48 convertible doors he didn’t need.  Not wasting any time, I hopped on I-55 and headed down to pick them up.  Needless to say, Jeff was thrilled to pull the plug on my “Franken-door” monsters.

Stay tuned next month as Scott & Nicole's wild adventure to make the '41 road- and show-worthy continues, featuring the trans trilogy, pregnancy impulse purchases, and a topless car.  You won't want to miss it!