My Uncle Billy Ray Maner passed away 10/13/2010 at the age of 67.  Billy Ray was my mother’s youngest sibling.  He was the James Dean/Fonzie of his era.  He charmed and chased women with his double dimpled grin and his Elvis duck-tailed haircut in his fast hot-rod muscle cars.  Billy Ray was only five years older than me.  He was just old enough to be my early puberty idol dabbling in all the areas that would chill and thrill any preteen or young teenage boy.  Yet, I was just young enough that I could not crawl in the car and go with him.  However, I was just old enough to be responsible enough to wash the variety of vehicles he owned every weekend.  I was young enough, or maybe gullible enough would be a better description, to consider it an honor.  He was my hero!

The hottest car Bill ever owned was a one-of-a-kind 1958 Fairlane 500 two door hardtop.  No other daily driver of a 1958 Ford in the free world had under the hood the power plant this automobile did - nor the unique background story in acquiring this engine.

In the early ‘60s, NASCAR was attacking and entertaining the American Spirit with stock car racing.  The car that won on Sunday was selling like gang busters on Monday.  Unlike today’s plastic and fabricated sheet metal cars, this generation of racecars had real fenders and hoods along with chrome plated metal bumpers.  It started out looking exactly like the car everyone had parked in their yard.  No front wheel drive automobile raced on the NASCAR Circuit as a rear wheel drive racer like front wheel cars presently do under today’s rules.  To stay stock and continually win races, manufacturers just made larger and more powerful engines.  In the mid to late summer of 1963, Ford Motor Company redesigned the body style of its Galaxie.  Ford was convinced that a rear slope of the roof would yield an aerodynamic advantage over its competition.  This body style change excited the Ford engineers; Ford Marketing deemed this new model as the 1963½ Ford Galaxie Fastback.  However, Ford’s competitive juices flowed even more with the introduction of a new engine.  Available to the general public as an option was Ford’s new 427 cubic inch engine fed gasoline by two four barrel carburetors rated at 425 horsepower and mated with a four speed manual transmission.  One such new Ford came through Rockingham mid-summer of 1963.  It seems that a soldier from Fort Bragg was returning to his home in Florida in his new ’63½ Ford Galaxie Fastback with the 427 cubic inch/425 horsepower engine.  As the soldier entered the intersection of U.S.1 and U.S.74, he was t-boned in his new Ford, totaled by a driver who failed to stop at the intersection.  In this accident, the soldier lost his life.  How ironic that a soldier from Florida became a traffic fatality in front of the Orange Bowl Restaurant in Rockingham, North Carolina.  The first wrecker on the scene was from Sheppard Wrecker Service of Five Points.  Roy Sheppard, owner of the wrecker service, benefitted by being located so nearby.  Roy earned a reputation as a mechanical guru who could work magic with wrenches.  Local dirt track late model sportsman Bobby Webb reaped some of the benefits on the now nonexistent 3/8 mile clay Rockingham Speedway with Roy Sheppard built engines under the hood.  Roy seized the opportunity to obtain this almost new and rare engine for a salvage price.  Roy had a show worthy red and white ’58 Ford Fairlane 500 that he was holding for just the right engine.  More than adequate space existed under the hood of the big Ford to mount the 427.  The installation of the rear end and floor mount for the factory four speed was a piece of cake for Roy.  Billy Ray knew Roy well and was able to work out a deal on this ’58 hot-rod.  I can still remember the first time I washed this jewel. 

Everyone Bill ran across wanted to run this old Ford.  He would not let anyone lift the hood.  Only Roy Sheppard, Billy Ray, Bill’s closest friends, and I knew what was hid under the hood.  Late one night on a return trip home from South Carolina Billy Ray had a stranger knock on his back door and would not go away.  Billy Ray had been drafted and was enjoying his late night civilian life before leaving in a few weeks for basic training during the Vietnam era.  He and the car became a legend that night.  Billy Ray told me of his macho car epic showdown that happened that night.  I hung onto every word and could not go to bed until I wrote a poem reflecting Bill’s experience.  Since I didn’t know when I‘d see Bill again, I made a few copies and gave him one right away.  I entitled it, The Ode to Billy Ray.  I lost my copy and said many times I wished I had one more copy.  It was not bad work for a fifteen year old.  I recently found out that my Aunt Jewel Stutts somehow ended up with a copy of that original poem. It became popular with my family members.  I’m just glad Aunt Jewell held onto it all this time.  Recently, at Billy Ray’s funeral, one of my younger generation cousins asked my brother Gary, “Is anyone going to sing The Ode to Billy Ray?  Gary and I had a good laugh.  Urban Legend can grow to be bigger than life itself.   Forty-seven years later I have tweaked that original copy Aunt Jewel gave me and am now publishing the 2010 version of The Ode to Billy Ray.  Thanks Aunt Jewel for keeping Billy Ray’s memory alive.  After all, Billy Ray was: The Man! The Myth! The Legend!  …And one of my precious childhood memories of growing up in Rockingham, North Carolina - a small textile town in the South in the ‘50s & ‘60s.  

The Ode to Billy Ray

Rev ‘em up and put ‘em on the line.
The big 427 will leave ‘em behind!
Out of McColl and across the line,
A stranger came knocking on Billy Ray’s behind.
Bill hit the bright lights and put ‘er in third.
That Ford was galloping like a runaway cattle herd.
Billy Ray looked into his rearview mirror.
Evidently, the stranger behind thought he was superior.
Eighty, ninety, a hundred and more,
Bill put his gas petal to the metal, flat on the floor.
Down the stretches and into the curves,
Billy Ray’s driving demanded plenty of nerves.
As Bill looked out his rear window and into the night,
He caught a faint glimpse of the stranger’s headlights.
Up the road ahead under a tall pine,
The South Carolina D.O.T. had posted a bright red stop sign.
To obey the law meant to lose the lead
That was one traffic sign Billy Ray did not heed.
The way Bill was driving was really gritty
As he cruised along at a hundred and thirty.
When out of the dark there arose a dead man’s curve,
Billy Ray in NASCAR fashion downshifted into third.
Through the curve, oh my what a ride
As the ’58 Ford fishtailed in a dirt track broad slide!
Call it either luck or driving skill
But Billy Ray was still behind the wheel.
Those big Ford hosses were chopping at their bits
While the unknown chaser in the rear refused to quit.
Flying through stop sign number five
Bill drove on in his midnight ride.
The red and white ’58 ford was oh so fleet
As both glass packs harmonized ever so sweet!
The 427 was streaking like a rocket in flight
As the headlights in the rearview disappeared in the night.
All at once both four barrels began to spit
And Billy Ray right away knew the reason for it.
The 427 power plant had run out of gas.
The stranger in the rear would finally pass.
Bill pulled over and stepped to the rear
While he waited for his competition to appear.
Relaxed and leaning against his car
Billy Ray received quiet a jar.
Well, slap my face and bless my soul.
The stranger in the night was the South Carolina State Highway Patrol!
Out of his Plymouth Fury as fast as he could
The Highway Patrolman threw up Bill’s hood.
“The way you were driving kept me aplenty frightened.
Are you a Moonshiner running white lightin’?
That must be the reason for the jack you were balling.
So just tell me where and how many gallons you are hauling?”
“I carry no homemade liquor!  Do you think I’m that dumb?
I just like to prove my 427 and I cannot be outrun.
I’ve never had a challenger who wanted to race
That didn’t see my tail-lights vanish in the chase.
Have I not run out of gas and had to park,
You would still be searching for me in the dark.”
The Smokey replied,” This is a first in my career
For me to pursue from such a distance in the rear.
The only reason I chased you this far
Is to find out what’s in your car.
I’ve never turned on my blue light out of the gate
To be outran by any car, especially a car from ‘58!
I never did expect to see a ’58 Ford with a 427
Until I passed through the Pearly Gates of Hot-Rod Heaven.
Thank God I didn’t have to leave Earth in a long black hearse
To eyewitness this mechanical wonder first.
Tell me who built this car?  Please give me his name!”
“Roy Sheppard,” answered Bill, “A local legend in the racing game!”
Said the Trooper, “I’ll raise my right hand and testify
This car is a jet that can really fly!
I’d love to keep talking and save you a fine
But I have to justify why I crossed the state line.
Where do I go and find Roy?
You see I also own a hot-rod toy.”
Bill answered, “Everyone in Rockingham knows
Roy always eats lunch daily at Seago’s.
Rockingham has many good eating joints
But Seago’s is the best in Five Points!
He’ll know what you mean and you couldn’t be any plainer
If you just say, ‘I want to run like Billy Ray Maner!’
He’ll know exactly what you mean.
You’ll leave Five Points with a hot running machine!”
The next week, up in the courtroom Billy Ray stood
The Judge asked, “A ’58 Ford?   Tell me Trooper, what’s under that hood?”
“Your Honor, a ‘63 Ford 427 with two 4 barrels, and 4 on the floor.
My Mopar 440 was wide open and I could not close the door.”
“Private Maner, “announced the Judge, “I’ll have to charge you a $100 fine.
And take away your license so you’ll do no more flying.”
Look out Highway Patrol, for after the war
Billy Ray may return with the same wicked car,
And say to all, “Rev ‘em up and put ‘em on the line
The big 427 will leave ‘em all behind!”