Tribute to the man who showed me the Ford Mustang

I’m sure you know how this story goes. Regardless of how timeless an idea, passion, or hobby is, the people behind the magic don’t live forever. I’d like spend a moment to pay my respect to the man who introduced me to the Ford Mustang. If you want to avoid a sappy story, I suggest you stop reading now. If you want to know how I found myself loving the Mustang and spending time with someone influential in my life, carry on…
When I was a kid, I spent countless hours at my uncle’s farm fishing, farming, camping, and doing all the things a young boy loves to do. Most notable, however, was the fact my uncle introduced me to a new passion in life; one of legend, power, and excitement. He took me out at the age of 14 in a built 1983 Ford Mustang LX. I won’t spend time in the details surrounding the car, as it’s not really relevant. Just imagine the first ride ever in a V8-equipped performance machine as being one where the entire car’s body quivered due to an aggressive cam, the smell of unspent fuel (no catalysts) filled the open cabin as the hot pavement resisted the vapors, and the only other sight of note was a man in the driver’s seat with a huge grin on his face. “You ready?” he said. I didn’t know how to answer.
“Ye—yeah!” I stammered.
I wasn’t ready.
I wasn’t ready to be scared, excited, enthralled, enticed, and exhilarated all at the same time. As my uncle blipped the throttle a few times to simulate an intimidating, prowling growl, my legs began to burn with anticipation. “Here. We. Go.” I thought.
What came next was a foundational moment of excitement and my love of the Ford Mustang. My first time out in a true performance machine was downright awesome. My uncle showed me something truly unique to things I’d only read about in magazines and seen strolling through parades. To that point, I had never imagined what fun was to be held in the little pony car people commonly refer to as the Stang.
To this day, whether I’ve owned one or longed for a Mustang, I’ve always looked back on this memory as being crucial to my focus upon the hobby and as a basis for the enthusiasm I have for the car and most importantly, the other people who love the car. To me, the Mustang isn’t just about a pony car from Dearborn. It’s about a product that ties gear-heads and their friends & families together for a lifetime of memories and experiences.
With that, I don’t care to keep spewing details that don’t serve the true message behind this post. If you take anything away from this, whether it’s related to the Ford Mustang or not, please just know that it means everything in the world to share something you love with someone you love. That is what it is all about.
Uncle George, I love you, man. You will be sorely missed. –Tim (timeless2)

My condolences Tim.
Great story! Some of us can’t put into word’s or even answer why we like this car so much. A legend it is!
We all have to thank someone for introducing us all to the great American Pony Car. You’re the only one I have seen post that. And for that, I greatly respect you Tim, and your Uncle George.
If it weren’t for him, I doubt any of the 151,940 members would be on this site right now.
We should all thank George for all this. For Stangnet.
It is a well written article, I am sorry for your loss. Thanks, Tim, for introducing me to the Mustang, if it wasn’t for those times in that 86 rag-top of yours and that one sweet ride in your 95 Cobra, I would never have found that appreciation for the Stang.
I’m sorry for your loss, Tim.
That was a beautiful story.
Thanks for the heartwarming story Tim, I suspect I am a little older than you, but my favorite Uncle, Duane also introduced me to the love of Mustangs. Uncle Duane’s car, one of several, was a 1966 Black Mustang GT with the k code 289. I am now 52 years old and have loved Mustangs all of my life. Besides Mustangs we also spent time together hunting, boating, and racing ho scale cars in his garage. I lost my Uncle several years ago but I think of him often when I see my photo of him getting into his B-17 in WWII or fire up the 06 Mustang GT that I finally bought myself when I retired early. Here’s to you Uncle Duane, I hope and pray to see you again someday.