Ken Sharp, fighting terminal cancer, got a surprise Friday: use of a red 1967 GTO, similar to one he sold long ago. With him is his wife, Pat, and around the car are: (this side) son Jim and his wife, Karen, and their nephew Brett, 15; and (far side) son Bob and his wife, Jen, and niece Julia, 6; nephew Jacob, 9; and daughter Courtney, 12. Credit: Rick Wood

Elkhorn - Stepping out the door of the cancer clinic, Ken Sharp said what he always says when he spots any red 1967 Pontiac muscle car like the one he had as a young man.

"There's my GTO!"

Then he looked closer and saw his sons, Jim and Bob, in the two-door hardtop parked in the clinic's circle drive.

Jim revved the big V-8 as his dad came closer, and over the rumble I heard Ken say something like, "Where in the hell did you get this?"

The early Father's Day surprise had worked perfectly. On Friday morning, Ken's wife, Pat, their sons, daughters-in-law Karen and Jen, and four grandchildren Brett, Courtney, Jacob and Julia smiled and cried and snapped photos as Ken climbed in behind the wheel of the sleek automobile and felt 40 years melt away.

He noticed the hood scoop, the black interior, the wood trim on the dash and console, the stick shift. "This is exactly like the car I came out here from California in," he said. "You aren't going to get any more identical to the one I had."

That's what Jim wanted to hear. Recently the New Berlin man, who works as an art director, placed an appeal on the Hemmings forum for car collectors. It began: "I am in search of a cherry red 1967 GTO to rent for my 66-year-old dad who has recently been diagnosed with terminal esophageal cancer that has spread to his lungs. He has gone through two years worth of hell and battled small cell lung cancer as well."

Jim Sharp doesn't say so in the plea, but the sad truth is that Ken will be lucky to see another Father's Day. On Friday, Ken was wearing a T-shirt saying, "Live for today." The rest of the motto embraced by his family is to hope for tomorrow.

"I am trying to give my dad the best Father's Day present ever, a reminiscent drive in the car he never wanted to let go of and has always talked about getting back," Jim's request said.

For years, Jim thought of buying a GTO and restoring it with his father. It always feels like there will be plenty of time to get around to our plans, until there isn't.

Jim's request resonated with car guys, and the offers poured in. Jim gratefully accepted the one from Joe and Kristine Kahn of Gurnee, Ill., who have two red 1967 GTOs.

"He said, 'Take it however long you need it,' " Jim said, and he wouldn't accept any money for the car, which he named Burnadette, spelled just that way.

Joe told me, "I thought, well gee, I've got two of them sitting in the garage and I'm 50 miles away. How can I not hook this guy up?" He is 33, making him 12 years younger than his cars. He works in marketing for a bearing manufacturer.

He understands Ken's longing for the car. Joe got his original GTO when he was just 15, and later regretted selling it. A couple weeks ago he bought the same car back. He got the second GTO in 2007.

This ain't no Corolla, he told Jim. "I said when you bring it back it better have some rubber on the quarter panels to make sure you had fun with it. Don't be ginger with it."

Jim picked up the car in Gurnee early Friday. He planned to return the car later in the day, and bring Ken along to meet and thank Joe.

Ken said he paid $3,500 for his GTO, which was a year old at the time and had low miles. In 1969, he and a buddy drove it across the country and planned to go up into Canada. He stopped in East Troy to see a friend and wound up staying in Wisconsin, primarily because Ken met Pat and they fell in love and married within a few months.

"We had our first date in the car. For our wedding, that was our car. We burned rubber," Pat said. She would usually sit on the center console to be closer to Ken, and she recalls he would often have a cigarette in his right hand as he shifted. The ashes left holes in her pantyhose.

Pat had trouble driving the car because of its manual transmission. So after Bob was born in 1970, they traded in the GTO for a sensible Ford Fairlane.

On Friday, Pat drove Ken to the Vince Lombardi Cancer Clinic at Aurora Lakeland Medical Center in Elkhorn for his weekly blood screening and fluid intake. He fully expected they would be driving home in their Chrysler minivan. Then he came out and saw the car.

"Oh my God," he said more than once.

He and Pat sat in the car, with Pat on the console for old time's sake. The plan was for everyone to go for lunch at Gus's Drive-In in East Troy, a place where vintage cars look right at home. Then maybe they'd go fishing, one of Ken's favorite pastimes now that he is retired from his job as a machinist.

"Whatever Dad wants," Jim said. "If he just wants to drive all day and not stop, that's fine with me."

Call Jim Stingl at (414) 224-2017 or email at jstingl@journalsentinel.com.

Jim Stingl talks about his column at 7:35 a.m. every Sunday on WTMJ-AM (620).