From street racing to 11-second timeslips: Dad's Shelby G.T. 500 kept racing after he sold it

Twenty-four months. That's essentially the duration my father shopped for, negotiated the purchase of, and owned his brand-new 1968 Shelby G.T. 500. On paper, the last 12 months of that timeframe doesn't seem like one could accumulate enough enjoyment out of a dream car he financed for close to $5,000, yet he did. As discussed previously, once in his possession, the Shelby was enhanced with an aftermarket carburetor, was used as a daily commuter, burned through untold tanks of Sunoco 260 with alarming regularity, and, as I recently learned, was street raced to a perfect 3-0 record.

Dad drove his year-old Shelby G.T. 500 to Simon Ford, where it was traded in for a special-ordered 1969 Ford LTD loaded with every option, save for a 429-cu.in. engine. The G.T. 500 then appeared in this ad listing it for sale. In today's money, that $4,195 asking price equates to $30,780.

It also was a hot ride—we're talking engine heat—on top of already looking more and more like an impractical car for a young couple who were about to marry and buy their first house. It was enough to prompt Dad to trade the car in for something completely different: a 1969 Ford LTD Brougham. It was a car he and my mom owned for four years, which then started an endless buy/sell phase of car ownership that has been a part of the family legacy. Despite the variety of steeds, though, the one consistent question has always been, "Whatever happened to the Shelby?"

Almost immediately after the Shelby appeared in a local newspaper ad, Lilyan McGary—a resident of nearby Fitchville, Connecticut—arrived at Simon Ford to purchase the high-performance car for her son; according to lore, it was to be his first car. Over the course of the next several months, my dad remembered seeing the new owner(s) scooting along the area roads in the Shelby on several occasions before it slipped into the realm of former-car obscurity. How often it was driven, or the nature of its use when in the hands of the McGary family, is anyone's guess to this day. Records make it clear, however, that on April 5, 1973, the G.T. 500 was purchased by nearby Canterbury resident Cliff Williams.

"Like just about every car sold privately in Connecticut at the time, the bill of sale states Cliff paid $100. Sales tax in the state was 7 percent; rarely did anyone ever list the actual price. We'll never know what the actual cost was," said John Wilson, current steward of Dad's long-lost Shelby. "We'll also never know what happened to the original engine. Cliff was a racer and, when he owned the Shelby, he had a 427 side oiler under the hood. Danny LeFevre was involved in some way, but who he was and to what extent is a mystery. Cliff trailered the Shelby from one track to another. A lot."

According to John, the stack of time slips attributed to the Shelby (which adopted race car number 1025, as seen in this period photograph—scroll down to find the reference of Shelby serial number 738 from Loh Ford) originate from not only the now-defunct Connecticut Dragway, but also New England Dragway (Epping, New Hampshire), Island Dragway (Great Meadows, New Jersey), Maple Grove Raceway (near Reading, Pennsylvania), and even Byron Dragway (Byron, Illinois).

"It was a very consistent sub-12-second car. Nearly all of the time slips are in the 11.73- to 11.75-second range with speeds of 114 to 115 mph. There are a few that list a tad slower speed, but I have yet to find a slip that can definitively be attributed to the Shelby that was slower than 11.9 seconds. There are four class winner decals on the car, three of which originate from Connecticut Dragway, so it was a rock-solid race car for him until about 1980 or '81 when he parked it—first in a Quonset hut, and then in a chicken coop—because he finished building a 1967 Mustang fastback to race. That's about the time I met Cliff. I had purchased a '68 Mustang and ended up with a cracked upper control arm. I went to his shop and purchased a replacement part from him, and we remained friends until his passing. I remember seeing his '67, and the '84 Mustang he started to race a few years later. The Shelby was always off to the side; it didn't move for more than a decade," said John.

On the evening of July 7, 1991, Cliff was piloting his Gulfstream American AA5B back to Connecticut after a day of racing at Old Bridge Township Raceway Park (better known as Englishtown) in New Jersey. His destination was Windham Airport, outside Willimantic; however, according to the accident report, lack of experience and weather conditions contributed to a crash in the rural, hilly town of Columbia. Cliff, and two passengers, succumbed to injuries.

Dad's Shelby as it looked in 1992. It had enjoyed a successful career of racing, primarily at the now defunct Connecticut Dragway, for nearly a decade before it was parked. Image courtesy of John Wilson.

"About a year after Cliff's crash, his widow decided to sell the three Mustangs. I talked to her and his brothers, who I knew well, and we were able to come to terms that allowed me to purchase the Shelby. When I picked it up, the 427 side oiler had been replaced at some point with a correct Police Interceptor, but again, it's not the original engine. I spent a bit of time looking over the car and noticed that it needed some work; rust had gotten into a few areas typical of Mustangs, such as the torque boxes. Amazingly, though, the cowl—which is typically a high rot area in New England Mustangs—was solid; no rust at all. And given the friendship and race history, I decided it would be best to preserve the car, rather than completely restore it."

The Shelby on the rotisserie while some chassis corrosion was being rectified. The focus was not a full, back-to-factory restoration, but rather preservation. Image courtesy of John Wilson.

"There were a few spots on the car beyond the torque boxes that needed a little bit of patchwork, but it was spared a lot of damage because it was never outside during Cliff's ownership, other than racing, of course. Interestingly, the car was side swiped at some point, probably when the Shelby was in the hands of the McGarys; the right side door and quarter panel had been replaced," said John.

In late fall 2020, Dad's old Shelby (serial number 0738) looked like a car once again. Only a few mechanical tweaks had to be done to make it roadworthy for the first time in nearly two decades. Target date: summer 2021. Image courtesy of John Wilson.

"Since the bodywork has been completed, I can now focus on the last bits of mechanical work that were on the list in order to get the Shelby back on the road. The brakes are done, so now it's just a matter of buttoning up the cooling and fuel systems. My goal is still to complete it before the end of summer. Until I saw the story about Ray's ordering and purchasing the Shelby, I had no idea who was responsible for it being here in the first place; that part of the car's history somehow got lost. Now I'm anxious to meet your dad and the whole family, and to have it running would make for a wonderful reunion for him. It completes this car's story to this point. It's quite a legacy."