This story was written by Fred's Son, with obvious Love & Admiration for his Parents:
You want to talk about defining moments? How about the first time he laid eyes on the Ford Mustang almost 40 years ago? That day at the 1964 Worlds Fair in New York changed his life.
Picture a wayward 20 year old , knowing where he wanted to be in life, but not quite sure how to get there. Looking at that 1964 Rangoon Red Coupe, it became clear: sell the 1954 Corvette convertible, and buy that car.
This story only begins there. He kept working, put his neck on the line and turned owning that car into a profession.
How does it end? Well, he has a whole barn of them now... a Mustang Barn, to be exact. Almost 30 years after launching "Glazier's Mustang Barn," my father has mastered the art of melding what you love with what you must do. He loved that first car, and it and others have helped him build a business, raise a family and live a dream.
Every good story's got a girl, and this one's no different. His wife of 38 years knows better than to get between a man and his car. She's been with him through it all - the fat and lean years, the car shows, the greasy hands and the peal-outs he still does every time he leaves the house. The impish, satisfied smile on his face gives him away - he genuinely loves it. Her giggle from the front seat lets you know he's never been alone in this venture. The song should have been "Mustang Susie," not Sally.
My Dad and his business are well known across the country. He's one of the best whether you're restoring your 1964 - 73 Mustang, or just need a few parts. Ford's pony car has been good to him, and he's been good to it ; working hard, keeping his word and providing quality work at fair prices. His secret to success? -do what you love and do it well.
That first Mustang? He still has it, of course, along with the original window sticker and paperwork framed and hanging in his office. It's in The Barn being lovingly restored to showroom new in honor of its upcoming 40th birthday.
Who would have ever thought one afternoon at a fair could mean so much?
Frederick R. Glazier III
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