I thought I'd share a story from back in the good old days. Back then I was a Chevrolet guy. Previous cars I had were a 1958 Impala 348/250 hp 3 speed that I had put a Saginaw 4-speed in it. I sold that when a 1963 Impala convertible, 409/340 hp 4-speed triple black car caught my eye. It was the most fun car I had. It made dozens of trips to Geneva on the lake where the family had a Lakeview trailer. I then went for a lighter car selling my 63 and buying a 1965 Malibu SS, 327 4-speed. Working in a large steel mill I had the funds so I put a 396/425 hp engine. The car was very fast. I bought a second car in the summer of 1969, a bare bones 1966 Riviera GS. White/black vinal top, Strato type bench seat with arm rest, power Windows Am/fm radio, no AC car. 425/340 hp, as I recall it had a 3:42 posi. I liked the car especially when taking out a Lady. Now about what led up to the racing story. Back then we lived for street drag racing. Right or wrong, it was the way it was. I was out in my Malibu SS. This guy I knew (1964 GTO) was cursing on the new wide road in front of the then new Eastwood mall. This was early 1969. The GTO lined up against a 1968 Road Runner. I was behind the GTO. Light went green, we all hit it. I pull into the middle lane and passed both cars during their "drag race." This event setup the Riviera story. Fast forward to winter 1969/70. It was a clear night with dry roads, I had my Riviera and my Brother and I were playing pool at a bar. The GTO guy and us were friends. He brought the subject of that race saying his GTO was faster now. I made the comment, that he'd be lucky to beat my Riviera. Bar closes, we are all going to Diamonds restaurant 2 miles away. They use to have a 3/4 mile bridge from McDonald, Oh to Girard. The entrance of the bridge is where present day Rossler Transmission is. It was wide and straight. As we came to the turn to the bridge I said to my Brother, he's going to try to pass me on the bridge. I was ready, I was in low. As soon his lights moved to the center, we both hit it. The 4-speed GTO pulled up to the drivers door. That's it, the Riviera was sucking all the cold air it could handle and the switch pitch was switching! He never gained an inch till he gave up and dropped back behind me. We pulled up in front of the restaurant and got out, I told him "heck, I didn't even have the 4 barrel kicked in." That was a great era to be a car guy with very little police.