The Mach 1 Years

I had a 1972 Ford Mustang Mach 1 that looked exactly like this one. It was mine from 1978 until 2003—a beautiful car that followed me through some of my most foolish years.

Back then, there was too much drinking and not much direction. One night, after partying until morning, I wrecked the Mustang while driving home. Looking back, I know how badly that night could have ended. I don’t carry regret, but I do carry the lessons from those years.

Still, whenever I see a Mach 1 like this, part of me wishes I could walk into the garage and find mine waiting there. I miss that car. Maybe I also miss the younger man behind the wheel—not because I want to relive his choices, but because I understand him better now.

I have no regrets, but I do wish I still had that car.