Background
My car is a white Kammback that rolled off the assembly line in February 1976 according to the build sheet. My late father-in-law purchased it new for my mother-in-law as a daily driver. She wanted something more upscale, so she passed it off to her two high-school daughters. My wife learned to drive in this car, and was driving the Vega as her "drive to work" car when we met. (Her other car was a ’90 TPI ‘Vette.) Maybe that’s what attracted me to her—the Vega, not the ‘Vette, since I had a nearly identical blue one I drove in college and Air Force pilot training from 1976-1981. We kept the car after we got married until her sister wanted it as a daily driver while attending graduate school. When she completed her studies, I wanted the car back as an "airport car" in Louisville, KY; where I was home-based as a commuting UPS pilot. We got the car back with a few more body dings than when we gave it to her sister, but still in excellent mechanical shape and virtually rust-free. The car was driven very rarely in Louisville, and as my seniority with the airline increased, I drove it less and less. The winter and humid climate started taking their toll, and I became concerned about rust. When I went to Boeing 727 training in 1998, I had to decide whether to get another airporter or save "Willie, the White Wonder Wagon" as we called the Vega. We both had an attachment to the car, so we decided to invest in a cheap paint and bodywork job from Maaco to remove the dents and hopefully slow down the corrosion. Once I finished training, I didn’t see the car again for almost a year. It was obvious I didn’t need an airport car in Louisville often enough to leave the car up there to deteriorate, so I decided to bring the car back to the more favorable climate of Abilene, Texas and restore it. I had no idea where to begin looking for parts until I got onto some of the H-body websites. I found Butch Davis on George Roth’s Pacific NW Vega website, and spoke to him on the phone about interior parts one evening while sitting standby reserve at DFW airport. A couple hours later, my crew and I were called out to fly to Portland, OR. The next day I rented a pickup truck and drove from Portland to Bonney Lake, WA to pick up my first of many loads of parts from Butch and flew them back in the lavatory of the 727 to Dallas that night. Butch got me hooked on the idea of putting a V-8 into my car, which I had wanted to do since college. Butch has been invaluable both as a source of parts and knowledge. He literally has a nose for Vegas and can find you almost anything from small parts to a whole car. He is fair and honest and will work with you if you love these cars as much as most of us. He has become a good friend over the past year and I look forward to my next parts run to Bonney Lake just to drive around looking at Vegas. If you need anything, call him at (360) 897-6736, or e-mail him at lmcgee6786@aol.com.
So my project was going to be in two phases—first, restore the car and convert it to a Vega GT clone; next, do the engine swap about a year later. It didn’t turn out that way. I had been planning to use either a HO-350 ZZ-4 or a built-up Goodwrench 350 crate motor when I found a guy selling a low-mileage ’96 LT1 from a wrecked Z-28 for $1800.00. I decided to buy it and put it aside until I was ready for phase two. While debating transmission options, I found a recently rebuilt 700R4 from a wrecked ’86 Suburban I was able to pick up for $350.00. This is a proven combination for numerous LT1 conversions, and some of the HBOA folks have already swapped the 700 slushbox, notably Denis St. Pierre. I got Monza V-8 engine and tranny mounts from Butch Davis. So I had all the big pieces to start, but wasn’t planning on pulling the 4-banger until at least April 2001. Meanwhile, I finished the restoration and GT conversion on a Sunday last October, then decided to drive the car on a four-hour run to Oklahoma for an Air Force Reserve inspection I was participating in at Tinker AFB. The Friday morning I was supposed to drive home, I was blind-sided while trying to make a left turn into a parking lot by a guy who came around a line of cars yielding to me. I was very bummed about the whole thing. I towed the car home on a flatbed, and once again had to decide whether to keep it or let the insurance total it for salvage. After much negotiation on what the car was worth as a stock restoration, I was able to get enough to keep the car with the original title intact (no salvage title!), and have the front sub-frame straightened, get good used body panels, and some body work. But then I realized the best time to do the engine swap was after the frame was straightened but before the body panels went back on. Fortunately, I had the engine, trans, and mounts ready to go. Like most hot-rodders, all I lacked was money, so I decided to go into debt and borrow enough working capital to start the job.
When the car was wrecked, it had 67,000 original miles. I had already converted to a front suspension from a ’78 Sunbird wagon with deep-pocket lower A-arms, spindles and vented disks, V-6 front springs, a Flaming River quick-ratio aluminum steering box, new front shocks, new variable rate rear springs, front and rear anti-sway bars with poly bushings, and 13x6" GT rims. My interior contained a GT dash with a Cosworth tach and speedo provided by my friend Tom "theAstre" Lippert, a mix of aftermarket mechanical and stock electrical gauges, fully functioning idiot lights, an AM/FM 4 speaker Cassette deck from the same ’86 Suburban the tranny came from that looks like factory stock, restored black plastic interior panels, GT steering wheel, black vinyl "pin-hole" pattern seats from a ’73 Vega (provided by Butch), new carpet, a Monza full-console (possibly a Vega option in ’77?), and new door seals from Soff-Seal. The original doors and hood were replaced with a rust-free set I pulled at the local wrecking yard; I added new window belt rubber from J.C. Whitney. The exterior got dual sport mirrors and GT rocker mouldings. I also rust treated every vulnerable area with POR-15 rust preventative paint. Truly a bitchin’ ride, except under the hood.