1969 Hemi Road Runner - Historic Mopar Finds - They Come In Threes

It's been said that all the good cars are already bought up, smashed, or rotting away in some guy's backyard. While this trend persists, we at the Mopar Muscle office have been beating the "clone" drum and preaching the gospel of turning grandma's cruiser into the ride of a lifetime. Tech Editor Dave Young turned a plain-Jane '68 convertible Satellite into a 440-powered, low-12-second GTX for his wife. Randy took an Army-green Valiant and converted it into one of the most highly regarded project vehicles that MM has done in years, and this author is still breaking his knuckles on his '69 Charger with aspirations for low-10-second, Hemi-powered, quarter-mile times.

But regarding the super-low production Mopars, we've been guilty of giving up the ghost prematurely, as evidenced by Bruce Kepley's earth-shaking discovery of not one, not two, but three of the most desired Mopar machines ever. What began as an innocent trip to the Monroe, North Carolina, K-Mart parking lot to view the Fourth of July fireworks in 2003, ultimately led to the discovery of some of the rarest documented Mopar iron known to exist-a one-out-of-four '69 Hemi Road Runner four-speed convertible with its drivetrain, a long-forgotten elephant plant from a '64 Belvedere Super Stock coupe, and the few remaining bits of a battered '68 Sox & Martin Barracuda.

Bruce had been earnestly searching for the original engine for his '69 Hemi Road Runner, and since he knew the car originally was sold in North Carolina, it narrowed down his search significantly. A chance encounter in the K-Mart parking lot that July 4th lead Bruce to the doorstep of Carroll Hendrix of Pageland, South Carolina, a former competitive drag racer in the '60s and '70s, who supposedly knew of the fate of his estranged elephant. Genial and eager to welcome a fellow Mopar enthusiast, Carroll freely opened his paddock to Bruce. From his first glance of the private stash, Bruce realized he had stumbled upon one of the most sprawling Hemi-engine collections he'd ever seen. That first encounter was educational, though somewhat disappointing since Bruce was told of the fate of several Hemis, but not of his. Carroll said he had owned a '69 four-speed green Hemi Road Runner convertible that was purchased in 1972 in Chesterfield, South Carolina, for $1,200 from a used car dealer. At that time it suffered a burned clutch and required a tow home. Once the clutch was repaired, the Runner served as a fun-about-town driver, sending Carroll as high as 110 mph on one occasion. He kept it like this for another year and then removed the entire driveline and replaced it with a tame 383. His motive for the swap was based on his fixation with collecting the venerable Hemi plant. The 426-which he still had-was extracted from between the fenders and placed alongside the other hibernating 11 engines in his collection.

Bruce pleaded to be shown the engine, which was safely stored away and partially assembled, except for the camshaft, lifters, valve covers, intake, and carburetors (all of which were stored on a shelf). The date-coded Hemi engine had a June 10, 1968 casting date. Carroll still had the bellhousing, four-speed transmission with a late July 1968 assembly date, the Dana 60 that still wore the factory markings, and 11-inch brake drums, driveshaft, K-member, fresh air cleaner assembly, and motor mounts.

Carroll was friends with several of the vintage Hemi Mopar drivers, including the late Don Carlton, who had agreed to discuss a trade for Carroll's stock camshaft and lifters, so Carroll removed the valvetrain from the 426 and wrapped them in newspaper. Tragically, Mr. Carlton was killed in a racing accident before this transaction could take place, so the parts remained wrapped in the newspaper. At the same time, Bruce had rebuilt and fully detailed a '67 Hemi engine for his '69 Road Runner. Since Carroll's engine had the same casting date, rendering it more appropriate for his model year, they agreed to swap engines along with the remaining drivetrain.

Once the newly acquired running gear was at Bruce's home, the phone calls and e-mails began. Fully understanding the historical significance of such a find, Bruce knew he needed certified documentation. Bruce sent photos of the engine and serial numbers of all parts and date codes to a Mopar historian. Word came back that the four-speed Hemi Road Runner convertible was built only three days after Bruce's four-speed Hemi Road Runner hardtop.

Bruce was now faced with a dilemma: what to do with the driveline? It would be a perfect fit for his Runner hardtop, though not the original plant. But if the original car still existed, wouldn't the reunion of the car and running gear be more important? Bruce was in a quandary. He would again require the help of his historian, who provided the information to the current owner of the body. The B-Body was, in fact, intact and in the possession of Stephan Stehnij of New York, who was fully aware of his Road Runner's heritage as a piece of motoring history, and his pricing was commensurate. Since buying the car from Stephan was out of the question, Bruce offered to trade the original driveline. But as luck would have it, Stephan had a completely restored late-'68 casting Hemi drivetrain, whose casting date would match Bruce's '69 Runner. Since Bruce was interested in finding an engine correctly date coded for his hard-top Road Runner and had the original running gear for Stephan's Runner, the two came to a very reasonable (and quick) trade. Carroll Hendrix was present for the swap in January 2004 and met Stephan Stehnij, who had many questions answered that day.

In August 2005, Carroll wanted to weed out his collection of Mopars and elephant engines and gave Bruce a call. On Bruce's first visit, he had been shown Carroll's garage that was chock full of 426 parts and complete engines, of which the aforementioned '69 casting Hemi from the mysterious one-out-of-four convertible Road Runners belonged. Bruce's keen eye had also noticed a complete Hemi and 727 TorqueFlite hanging from a chain hoist next to an old stove. This time, much to his delight, Carroll offered the lynched engine to him.

Rolling up his sleeves, Bruce removed the starter, which had a casting date of April 6, 1964. Bruce immediately realized this engine belonged to a factory Super Stock machine. Carroll explained he bought the engine in a '64 two-door post car from a fellow named George Nesbit around 1966. Carroll had raced it in the late '60s and early '70s. After suffering a breakdown at the Wadesboro dragstrip in 1971, he tried to repair it with little success. So he sold the body and stored the engine for a project '68 Barracuda race car that he had begun to piece together.

Bruce, once again, began to do his homework. He discovered that George Nesbit, a novice racer during the heyday of NHRA, had employed Bruce's neighbor's brother-in-law, Don Duncan. Don had made a name for himself as a successful local racing legend widely known on the NASCAR circuit and had served as the engine man for George Nesbit. A dinner meeting was setup between Bruce, his neighbor, and Don. Don recalled the car well, as George Nesbit had bought it new. Yet the origin of the engine did not begin with the '64 two-door post that Carroll had pulled it from. Rather, the engine came from a turquoise-over-turquoise '64 Belvedere two-door hardtop, sporting a push-button automatic-a factory-true Super Stock car. During the '64 Daytona 500, George witnessed the infamous 1-2-3 Mopar finish, which converted him into a Hemi loyalist. Deciding he had to have the fastest Plymouth available, he promptly ordered a '64 Belvedere push-button Super Stock Hemi car from Walter Chrysler Plymouth. George had unsuccessfully tried to race the car, unable to get the factory lightweight sedan to hook up at the line. Not "technically minded," George decided to partner up with someone who was more apt with hand tools. He paired up with Don, who had a '41 Willys that was prime to race as a gasser. George employed Don to pull the engine from the turquoise '64 to go "A-Gas" racing with the Willys.

When George left to serve his country, Don continued competing, winning again and again. Don recalled his most harrowing run, going through the traps with no brakes at 120 mph. A systematic brake failure had sapped the stopping power from the Willys, hurdling Don towards a dirt road that ran off the end of the strip. Don figured he skipped across the sand and gravel at about 110 mph, coasting to a gradual stop with little more than a bent front axle. Once George returned, he had no need for the Belvedere body, so it was sold to a body shop in Shelby, North Carolina, with less than 62 miles on the odometer in 1966. Finally having their fill of straight-axle mayhem, the duo pulled the engine and transmission from the Willys and dropped them into a '64 Plymouth two-door post car in 1966, and sold it to Carroll Hendrix shortly thereafter. It wasn't until September 2005, that Carroll agreed to sell the original elephant motor back to George for substantially more than what he had previously sold the whole car. The Willys today is found in a public museum in exactly the same condition as when it was raced, minus the legendary engine and transmission that remained in Carroll's garage since 1971. Carroll sold the Super Stock intake assembly to John Aruza in 1990.

Bruce called John to inquire if he had known about the '64 engine. John replied he was unable to purchase the complete engine, but was able to buy the cross-ram intake and carburetor setup, which he later assembled onto a Hemi for a street rod for Richard Petty. Unfortunately, the King was upset because he didn't like that particular setup. John not wanting the King unhappy with him, quickly changed it out and lost track of it.

The Super Stock '64 elephant was intended for a project Barracuda that also never came about. in 1971, when Carroll was racing the post car at the Wadesboro dragstrip, he noticed a peculiar '68 Hemi Barracuda. The engine was in bad shape, and extensive acid dipping to the fenders, doors, and decklid had begun to take its toll. Apart from the cosmetic woes, the Barracuda was well assembled with quality tube-frame fabrication and chassis modifications. But what drew Carroll to the Barracuda were the distinct raised letters spelling out Sox & Martin on the doors. He inquired about the painted-over paint scheme, and learned the owner had purchased the car from Buddy Martin about a year and a half earlier. Confirming this was the Sox & Martin name stamped on components found throughout the A-Body. On the last qualifying run before the quarter-finals, the owner of the former S&M Barracuda grenaded the Hemi, puncturing a hole through the block near the fuel pump with a wayward connecting rod. The owner was so infuriated he hastily sold the complete, though wounded, Barracuda to Carroll, even personally delivering it to his house. Over the next 16 months, Carroll would salvage what useable parts he could from the Barracuda and transfer them to a substantially more solid Barracuda with a more modern tube-chassis. Thinking nothing of it at the time, the unused portion of the body was trashed. All that remained was the decklid, fenders, engine throttle hardware, seats, and the Dana 60. Some other items were used as well, but for the most part, the rest of the legendary Sox & Martin car is lost to the ages.

Carroll became tangled in a series of personal dilemmas that impeded the progress of his '68 Barracuda, and it was left to sit outside his shop for over thirty years. When Bruce was walking through the paces of the Super Stock 426 Hemi's background, Carroll took him out back to show him the incomplete drag racer.

What started as a wild goose chase to hunt down an original engine evolved into one of the largest high-performance Mopar mother lodes in recent history.

But what struck us at Mopar Muscle-more than all the high profile names involved, rare production numbers, and big dollar potential of all this gear-was the fact they still exist. Many people think they have all been hoarded and/or eaten away by corrosion. Rather, Bruce's discovery should help us all have faith that there are still Charger 500s, four-speed Super Bees, 383 Barracudas, and Hemi GTXs out there. You just need to look.