ABOVE: The ’63 was a rude guest, leaking transmission fluid on its host’s garage floor.

Originally published in the September-October 2025 Lincoln and Continental Comments magazine (Issue # 386)
by Jeff Shively

As old car enthusiasts, we can all remember the times when the mechanical failure of one of our classics left us stranded with no clear way to get home. Of all the episodes I’ve endured over the past 36 years, the one that stands out as most heartbreaking occurred in the summer of 2019. I was driving my 1965 Cadillac on Interstate 465 from what was supposed to be the best shop in Indianapolis for that marque to my home in Noblesville, Indiana, about 25 miles north.

The job, which was supposed to take two weeks, ballooned into six months. Here I was, having spent a considerable amount of money, with a car that was running worse by the minute. After a spectacular backfire, it ground to a halt near the Interstate 69 exit, about 10 miles from home. I have seldom felt the sickening mix of rage, disappointment, and hopelessness as I sat there on the tailgate of my dad’s truck waiting for the rollback to arrive. Today, while it is much better than it was six years ago, it is still not right, and I am skeptical of most mechanics.

This summer, I experienced a similarly catastrophic issue with my 1963 Lincoln Continental on the way to the Mid-America National Meet. The transmission failed in the parking lot of the host hotel. There were sights and smells I’d not experienced before. But here is the difference. As much as I hated the idea of major transmission work, I realized that there was no better place for it to fail. After all, there were no fewer than four 1963 Lincolns registered for the event, plus a bevy of both older and newer slab sides. Where else could I hope to find a better brain trust that could help me out of this jam?

The first person to step up was Ted Hilton. Ted used to have a garage, and he is very familiar with the shops in the area. He recommended Mr. Transmission in nearby Sharonville, Ohio. They couldn’t get to me for a few weeks, and part of the reason was that the rebuilder was working on the transmission of…you guessed it, a 1963 Lincoln! When I was young and broke, I rebuilt the transmission on my ’65 Cadillac, and it worked great for well over 20 years. But this is not a TH 400. No shop in my area has worked on that vintage of Lincoln transmission in years, so this would be worth the wait.

In the meantime, I decided to see if I could get the Lincoln to move. John Hannon gave me a lift to the parts store to buy some Type F transmission fluid. Putting in a few quarts didn’t help, so I covered up the car for the night.

ABOVE: The wind ripped the cover off the Lincoln, but the water still beads on the 62 year-old paint!

Reviewing the shop manual, I surmised that the vacuum modulator might be the problem. On Wednesday, during lunch at Ford’s Garage, I called Green Sales Co., conveniently located in Cincinnati. They had the part in stock, and Tony Blaine ensured that when Lincoln of Cincinnati’s parts truck passed by Green Sales, that the modulator would be retrieved. Hearing of my trouble, Tim Wilson, who owns several of these early slab sides, commissioned one of his employees to cut a proper transmission pan gasket and then bring it 80 miles to the hotel, because he doesn’t like the quality of many of the off-the-shelf gaskets.

On Thursday morning, Tony brought his truck and trailer to the hotel. After we pushed the ’63 into place, he winched the car into the trailer and hauled it to his home. That afternoon, John McCarthy drove me to Lebanon, Ohio, where Tony & Michelle live, to see what could be done for my car. We stopped at a great local place for lunch that Tony had recommended before heading to see what progress he’d made on my Lincoln. By the time we arrived, he’d replaced the vacuum modulator, but it didn’t solve the issue. With that in mind, Tony agreed to keep the ’63 in his garage until Mr. Transmission was ready for it.

While this escapade was expensive, there is a larger lesson to be learned from it. In this day of electronic hyper-connectiveness, in-person connections are declining. Many of us don’t even know our neighbors. You no longer have a favorite pew at church because you can “attend” online. Mom-and-pop establishments that have served communities for generations are disappearing. However, there is hope in this hopelessness, and groups like the LCOC play a crucial role. As odd as it sounds, I wasn’t upset, even when things looked their worst. I knew that I was in the right place with the right people, and everything would be OK. It’s hard to put a price tag on that level of peace of mind.

Jeff Shively, Lincoln & Continental Comments Editor, lives in Kokomo, Indiana.