Turning 16 and having my first car was one of the most exciting days of my life. All that freedom of exploration before me: cruising the strip, hitting drive-in movies and street racing. My 1955 Ford was a hand-me-down from my sister and getting a little tired. No, I figured I’d just spruce it up a little with cosmetic changes. The six cylinders were a little weak, and I was often passed by the snow plow or a school bus. I couldn’t afford to change the engine, so I made it appear fast by putting fake speed product decals in the windows.
Then I needed seat belts. Back then, if you needed seat belts, the car was obviously fast. Performance engines had dual exhausts. I solved the exhaust problem by cutting my Louisville Slugger baseball bat in half and wiring it up under the car and putting a tailpipe extension on the end. Then I had two tailpipes – pretty cool. Occasionally it fell off, and this required a pit stop on a side street to fix the problem.
To make the 120 horsepower engine noisier, I took the end piece off my dad’s shop vacuum cleaner and put it on top of the carburetor with a little duct tape. It made this really loud suction sound. Then I had to get a boss paint job. First I had to patch all the holes in the body. I used a fiberglass filler called Bondo and filled in all the rusty areas. Jet black paint was the order of the day. I went to Earl Shieb. He painted my car for $29.95. It looked great.
The black wall tired had to go. Only old folks had black walls. A little white wall paint would settle the issue, and to darken up the black part of the tire, Dad’s black Shinola Shoe Polish would work. The white tire pain turned yellow, so every Saturday, before I picked up Joyce, the tires had to be redone. It was worth it.
Cruising the strip was the way we all spent Saturday night. Street racing was common. When a fast car came up next to me, I would put the car in neutral, gun the engine for some suction noise and quickly turn down a street before a good race began. I saved face that way.
Drive-in movies were regular stops all year long. The in-car heater clamped on the window along with the distorted speaker. We didn’t care. Often, the movie started before it was dark, and you couldn’t see a thing. Hey, what do you want for a dollar a car load?
Intermission provided a chance to clear the steamy windows. One night we told our dates it was their turn to get the refreshments. We, of course, gave them the money. When they were out of sight, we moved the car. It was funny to watch them walk around the grounds with their arms full of hotdogs, popcorn and large colas. When they went down another row, we put the car back in its original place. We told them they had walked past our car several times. They didn’t believe us and were very angry. The colas had spilled on their clothes, and one of the hotdogs had fallen to the ground. That was the last time they went with us in my 1955 Ford. I wonder if they even noticed the white walls or the suction noise.
