Cars, Cars, Cars

My Car Story
[ I didn't want the guy getting all the attention]

Getting my first car was a trial. My dad died young and there wasn't all that much money to go around on what little my mom and I could earn in those days, but my mother said I would get a car as graduation gift.

Graduation got closer and closer and we hadn't even started looking so being an impatient teen (I haven't changed), I pressed Mom to get started. She decided to have a friend of hers, who know something about cars to help us out. After a month, this is what he came up with as the auto of choice.

Now mind you, this was the era of long low cars with lots of chrome and lots of color. Two-Tone was in. In the 50's you needed a car that looked and sounded tough, a '55 BelAir Convertible with dual glass pack mufflers would be a good set-up. Or how about a sleek semi-custom chopped and lowered, lakes pipes, shaved door handles, french headlights, also a good machine. Slick back the DA, Put the top down, Tune in the top 40 DJ and take a ride in the 50's dream!

What a let down when we went to see the car…dog doo-doo brown and nothing sleak about this box. I decided I had to take matters into my own hands. I searched all the used car lots from one end of Ogden to the other. Anyone who has been to Ogden knows that the Washington Boulevard, the main street through the center of town was one long street. Fifty big blocks long through the heart of Ogden and if you were so inclined that street would give you a straight 50 mile shot to Salt Lake City and at least that far in the opposite direction.

Every teen in town used Washington Blvd. If they didn't have a car, they packed into a friends. Those were the "NO seat belt," "NO Helmet," days when you still ride in open pick-ups and could pack as many in as would fit. There were two popular Drive-in restaurants on each end of the run that were hang outs and turn arounds. The one on the South end had the carhops on skates and they specialized in Cherry Coke's. Whole evenings were spent driving between those two drive-ins. One challenge was to see if you could make it from one end to the other without hitting a red light. Ogden has long blocks, probably twice the length you normally think of as a city block, with a traffic light at almost every intersection. If you paced a car at exactly 17 mph you could make that run non-stop. "Dragging the Boulevard" was another in thing to do. The unfortunates who hit a red would hoot and howl at the car next to them while revving their engines. The green light set off the race. Some plotted a stop just to run a race against a souped up car.

Ron already described some of his finish effects. Flames, Pin striping, rolled and pleated naugahyde…Those were colorful days! The cars went through their lowering stages. First it was the lowered rear. Then all around. Later, they started lowering the front but I guess I outgrew any appreciation by then. I thought they looked like they had taken a nose dive. Those were great days. The era when a disc jockey would actually play your request when you called in. Remember the Bobby socks and Poodle skirts? And How about American Bandstand. I wonder how many hours we spent imitating the dance style of our favorites. How come Dick Clark never ages?

Enough with reminiscing, back to my car tale. Mom's friend didn't come up with any alternatives and I didn't want that brown dog. In the meantime I kept twisting Mom's arm to look at one car after another but she wouldn't budge. Well, graduation rolled around and I had one of those teen tantrums reminding her she had promised a car for the big day. It was really for the big all nighter on the Boulevard but she didn't need to know that part. Apparently, I made Mom feel guilty that she hadn't come through with the promised car. She went to visit a neighbor and came back with a set of keys to this gem.

Mom made arrangements to borrow, or maybe rent, the 55 Buick Special for the Graduation events. It wasn't the ideal but it satisfied my car craze for the day. The car was packed that night. I set my pace for the Boulevard run. But somewhere along the line as girls will do we started talking and laughing and I suddenly found my self about to rear end someone stopped at a light. I slammed on the breaks, slid on some gravel and came within a hair thread of hitting the car in front of me. The near miss put a real damper on the rest of the evening. I didn't even stay out all night. It wasn't long before I was on the search again.

I found a terrific looking Candy Apple Red 55 Mercury. It had the longer sleek look and enough chrome to make it respectable considering the funds we had available. I called Mom's friend to ask him to check it out. He didn't call back. Finally, I called him. He was pretty ho-hum about the car saying he thought the other one was much better. I was set on that 55 Merc. Anyway, when mom came home I told her the man said it was ok. I neglected to add the bit of information about the "Box." Mom hemmed and hawed but decided she would get this one.

I drove that car everywhere for a couple of days but then the engine started boiling over. In fact it boiled over almost every time I drove it. The intervals got more frequent and shorter then the car completely stalled out completely blocks from home. Mom's friend went out to check the car a couple of days later. "It has a cracked block." It's no good." My mother wasn't about to dump more money into the car and she sold my Beautiful Candy Apple Red Merc that I got to drive for a whole week!