Jimmy McCarty was born in ’49. And like a lot of the kids across southern/rural towns at the time, they didn’t have silver spoons in their mouths. If you wanted something, you had to work for it, and/or work on it. This is Jimmy McCarty’s ’66 Chevelle…

By the mid-60s, Jimmy’s generation was getting behind the wheel…

And carmakers were catching-on to what moved the youth. They started designing cars that were slick, stylish, 2-door, hardtop, hopped-up, high horsepower, and impossible to ignore. The muscle car era was born! And for the youth, cars were their ticket to freedom, identity, & expression.

Jimmy bought, sold, and traded-up hotrods. And in 1967, he was able to buy a ’66 Chevelle: 396, 4-speed, & silver with a black top (the resemblance is uncanny lol). But then there was a squabble overseas, and Jimmy got his draft papers. He kept sending army checks back home to make car payments. But Jimmy was also the kind of guy where – if he could make a dollar – it was gone. And someone back home wanted that Chevelle more than he did.

Jimmy came home & built a slew of Chevelles & Corvettes over the decades…

And by the early-90’s, he had built a family too. His son, Alex McCarty, was born. Alex grew up to be quite the hot-rodder himself, and classic cars were always an inseparable part of the family. Except Alex got the sentimental gene, where he holds onto stuff. Whereas, previously mentioned, Jimmy could flip cars & move-on without much of a 2nd thought. But the one car Jimmy DID regret selling in his very colored history of hotrods – was that silver/black ’66 Chevelle. So for nostalgic reasons, a Chevelle once again became the mission.

A yellow Chevelle had fallen on Jimmy’s radar…

It was more-or-less a plain Jane car – nothing fancy. Just some cool local lady’s hotrod runabout. But it’d been a regular around town for years & years. Local car, no rust, not ragged out, well loved… and probably one of the best Chevelle bodies around. Problem was – Chevelle Sally wasn’t selling. So Jimmy had to win her over. Eventually – after much incentivizing & 2nd-guessing, she was (still somewhat reluctantly) ready to let it go.

Jimmy & Alex took the yellow ’66 Chevelle down to a blank slate…

And redid it in Jimmy’s long-lost, nostalgic silver with the black vinyl top. The one that got away. The engine though?? Well, Jimmy went a little bigger one this one. It’s now a 468 – a 454 bored 60-over with 10.5:1 compression, a big hydraulic roller cam, and 781 iron heads. Raw muscle car power – with an Edelbrock intake, Holly carb, and MSD ignition.

The transmission is a turbo 350 auto instead of a 4-speed…

Jimmy went the auto route in so his wife could drive it… which she did maybe once or twice lol. It’s got a 3500 stall converter, 12-bolt rear end with 373 gears, and a mint/custom stainless exhaust made by Alex in-house at McCarty Speed & Fab (Monroe, GA).

For the Chevelle suspension…

Jimmy redid it old school style. No fancy coilovers or bags. Just big-block springs, heavy-duty shocks, and a disc brake conversion up front. And to get the classic stance & ‘muscle car rake’, Jimmy pulled an old trick outta his hat from the ’60s. He took the hubs out of a junk subframe, knocked the bearings & wheel studs out, and used them as a spacer for the rear springs. I dunno man – I’m not trying to get on one of my soapboxes, but that’s kinda what it’s all about ain’t it? Being resourceful, crafty, creative, etc? Is it truly hotrodder to go online & buy a $6,000 suspension setup owned by private equity? Haha, there’s no wrong answer there… just something to think about in a modern world of relentless influencing & marketing. I do know one thing for sure though…

What’s wild about this ’66 Chevelle is…

It’s a nearly 50-year-old dream that never died. A feeling that never faded. And a passion that’s forever woven into Jimmy… and fused into his kin. Ain’t it crazy what certain cars do to us? It’s nothing we could ever logically explain to rational/sensible citizens. But if you know… you know. How the right car teleports us somewhere else entirely. And somehow make us feel indescribably whole.