Pride of Ownership
It is my understanding that the two most expensive purchases a person makes, is a car and a home. This is all about my first car. I'm sure you remember yours. My car was a 1931 two-door Chevrolet sedan. I bought it in 1953. Quick math question. How old was the car when I bought it? The answer will not appear in my next letter.
It was in the dead of winter in Michigan. Loads of snow, gray sky etc. The engine did not run, and it had to be pulled out of a snowbank. I handed over $45. cash to its owner and towed away my prize. This was just at that time in history, when every teen felt the need and right to own a car. After spending several days under the car's hood, and freezing my butt off, I got it to run. From there on it was all gravy.
The car had the box shape of a Ford Model A, two doors, a tarred roof, running boards, and four on the floor. The engine was the first Chevrolet Six, the radiator looked like a bee's honey comb, and was encased with a gleaming chrome cover. The car had added special features. A large box containing the radio was attached to the firewall. And was connected to a small plate on the dash by a cable for tuning and volume. Another special feature was that there were hydraulic brakes. The mechanical brakes had been replaced. The master cylinder for the brake fluid could be reached by lifting up one of the floorboards, and pouring in fluid fairly often.
A couple of features which were not so nice were the windows. The two on the left side were missing. The one on the driver's side had a beer bottle thrown through it when it was supposed to have been open. The window behind the driver had once received a direct hit by a kicked football. This often caused me to sweep the snow off the driver's seat, before driving to school. "But ah," I told myself, as the wind was whipping my face as I drove along. "I had a car!"
And oh, but that car was strong. The front fenders were made of quarter inch steel, and were frequently danced upon by some cheerleaders. It had been used to pull floats and was involved in many affairs. I remember one time, and it was again winter when my car slid on a patch of ice. I was headed towards some kids, and so instead of running into them, I steered at a telephone pole. No damage done. I simply picked up the front bumper, threw it into the back seat, shifted into reverse and drove home.
But my story does not end happily. When my parents separated,I moved to another city in Michigan. I sold the car to a junkyard for $10. At least it was running when I sold it. A car collector today would pay, I"m certain more than I paid for it. There were a number of old cars available for our generation. Some may still be around. I remember a friend with a 1932 coupe with a rumble seat. It could, and did, hold seven guys with their shotguns, during rabbit hunting season. The driver had to drive in second-gear, because there was no room to shift gears.
Aloha
Grant
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