[GTO JOHN]

It all started when I was eight years old. Growing up in northern New Jersey we would use a month of our summer vacation to visit my mother’s side of the family in and around Massachusetts. Most of the time was spent at her sister’s dairy farm where my brother and I fell under the command of our uncle Bud. Our cousin Steve was six years old at the time and having two older cousins to boss around was a lot of fun for him. My brother Don and I would long for the time when we would leave the farm and our sentence to hard labor and visit our grandparents or one of my mother’s other eight siblings.

One summer day in 1975 we drove an hour from the farm to visit my uncle Johnny in New Hampshire. Johnny wasn’t the black sheep of the family, but he always did things his own way which somehow endeared him to my grandmother. Johnny was a barrel chested man with thick curly blonde hair and a full beard straight out of the Woodstock era. When we arrived at his house I immediately noticed a bright yellow car in the driveway. It had a big wing on the back and stripes down the sides. When we got closer I read GTO on the trunk lid and The Judge on the front fenders. “What kind of car is that?” I asked as my brother and I hoped out of the wagon. Johnny said it was a GTO Judge. I had never heard of a Judge before and asked if it was fast. Johnny replied “This car is damn fast!” to which my mother blurted out her disapproval of his language. My brother and I checked out the Judge extensively. I remember it was a 1970 model with a 4 speed and Hurst shifter. Color was Orbit Orange or Yellow with black interior with Rally II wheels. Exaust splitters and front spoiler. I remember the Ram Air decals on the hood but cannot remember if it was a RAIV or not. What an awesome car with a perfect body since it only 5 years old at the time.

We looked over that car until it was time for Johnny to leave for work. Since we were heading straight back to the farm, a ride was out of the question. We climbed into our Ford Country Squire Wagon while Johnny fired up the Judge. What an incredible sound that car had! I remember seeing the Judge turning around in the yard as we pulled away from the driveway and then we were out of sight. Several minutes later we were just getting settled into the fast lane on the freeway for our return trip when out of nowhere the Judge blasts past us on the right with the exhaust howling full song! Johnny then lets off the gas and downshifts into 3rd as the Judge starts come back towards us. My mom being a good sport eases onto the gas as the 429 comes to life in the wagon. Just as we are about to overtake her little brother, Johnny mashes the throttle again forcing the rear bumper seemingly into the ground as the Judge lurches violently while the engine roars with authority. Grabbing 4th gear causes an audible chirp and a puff of smoke from the tires and the Judge is gone. We eventually catch up and ride along next to each other for several more glorious minutes as the Judge has my full attention. Johnny’s exit is the next one and the Judge slips off the ramp downshifting through the gears. That was the first and last time I ever saw my uncle Johnny’s Judge. He sold the car around 1979 and all that is left are the memories. That chance meeting sparked a lifetime interest in musclecars and especially GTOs for me.