It was not a looker nor
was it considered a racing vehicle; it was previously-owned when
I got it but because it had belonged to my Uncle Bill, daddy was
positive that it was cared for, serviced, and was in excellent
operating condition. I
remember it as painfully plain but I was thrilled to have my own
transportation and I dared not complain.
My first car was a 1956
Chevrolet Bel Air; green on the bottom with a white top and
green and white interior. It
had a three speed shift on the column which delighted daddy for
several reasons; he was convinced that every driver should
master the art of changing gears; he knew it was reliable
transportation, and was certain that the vehicle could never win
a race.
It
was a two door sedan model and was in pristine condition. The
oil had been changed frequently; back in the day when there were
no local lube centers but we had acquaintances at the local
dealerships and service stations who were delighted to have our
business. Uncle
Bill washed that automobile every week and hand waxed it more
frequently than anyone imagined.
Uncle Bill had
purchased it new for his wife, Aunt Inez so when they decided to
trade cars as we called it in those days, daddy offered to buy
it from them. When
the negotiations were complete, he let me drive it to school, as
long as I obeyed the laws, did not cause an accident or get a
speeding ticket. I
distinctly remember that the family car insurance premium only
increased a few dollars when I got my license but it doubled
when my brother David got his license.
My second car was
completely different and I was convinced that the reason daddy
bought it was because he enjoyed a sporty ride. I
will never forget that he saw this beauty at Fred Kelley's
Chevrolet dealership, fell instantly in love and negotiated for
only one day before making the purchase.
It was a candy apple
red 1962 Falcon Sprint Convertible; the rag-top was white and it
had a red and white interior with a three speed in the floor. I
remember driving it all around town every day for weeks, with
the top down, and daddy riding shotgun. He
enjoyed the car and I was ecstatic with my new ride. Learning
to shift gears with my first car was an added benefit but it did
not take long to discover that if you listened to the sound of
the engine, and changed the gear slowly, you did not have to use
the clutch; daddy referred to that a sweet benefit.
You might wonder what
happened to the bright red convertible, I got married and began
driving momma's even fancier baby-blue Thunderbird, and Otto's
owned a 1964 Chevrolet Impala Super Sports, so David inherited
the little Falcon. After
a few months he traded it in on a blue 1966 Mustang, and the
vehicle buying and trading continued.
