A Corvette friend, Mark, frequently posts on Facebook about Road Trips, Cars, Music and Music Trivia. We are about the same age and as Cars and Music are two of my interests as well, I enjoy his posts. Last night I saw a post from him about favorite Road Trip Playlist song and I decided to comment.
I was making a comment on his post. For the last twenty or so years, my favorite road trip music would have to be “Midnight Train to Georgia”. I replied in a whimsical way referencing my two road trip companions of the early 2000’s, Muttley J Dawg and Stub R Cat aka Stubbi the Traveling Cat. Both crossed the Rainbow Bridge some years back, but they are forever linked to “Midnight Train to Georgia” and Road Trips.
As I finished typing my response, I suddenly remembered the 8 Track Player and Canned Heat “Going up the Country”…at that point there was no going back. The memories began to flood my brain.
I have always loved Cars. I am Southern and growing up in Metropolitan Atlanta, cars were part of the Culture as well as my Heritage. My extended family were all “car guys”. My Daddy and my Brother are Car Guys and they were some of the earliest influences.
As I think about cars I loved and all of the car stories of my life, I realize that from my earliest memories cars are a common thread that continues today. Many pleasant memories and defining moments in my life, are linked to a particular car. My car heritage started even before I was born. I was going thru some papers for my Dad last year and found a hand written list he had made of all the cars he had ever owned. It was in his important papers!
My Mother would tell the story of how my brother, Pat, was just a toddler and would talk about “caw-ba-wa-tors”; apparently my Dad, always the tinkerer and fix it person, was known to work on his carburetor on the kitchen table, when my brother was a baby.
My parents named their favorite cars and I remember “Big Red”, “Frankie”, “The Box” and “Eloise”.
Daddy’s all-time favorite car was a 1954 Green and Cream Chevrolet, Bel Air, 2 door hard top, he referred to it as a “fine automobile” and probably still does. His heart was broken when he was hit head on a Monday morning on his way to work and the car was totaled. We went to the junk yard to mourn its passing and Mama and I cried. For Mama to cry in front of me, it made me realize this was really, really sad and I cried too. Daddy’s “fine automobile” was all crumpled and its front end was crunched down in the muddy junk yard.
My Daddy bought a 1959 Red Plymouth Fury after his fine automobile was wrecked. Mama loved that car and named it “Big Red”. It was fast and sporty. Daddy taught me to drive in the Plymouth and I took my driver’s test in it. When I see them now and how big it was, I am amazed that I was able to pass the driving test! “Hell hath no Fury…like a Plymouth.”
At that time, cars did not always have side mirrors and Daddy thought he should add one. He bought the mirror and decided he would install it. Daddy was meticulous and always measured, planned, talked about, measured again…before he actually began the task at hand. At the time, Daddy did not have a drill. Unlike today, not everyone had power tools. Uncle Larry had a drill and was good at fixing anything. Daddy called and asked his brother-in-law if could bring his drill over and install the mirror. Larry was always accommodating and happy to help his family. He came over with the drill. Daddy was busy measuring, inspecting, discussing, planning and Larry said “I think it should go right here” and popped the holes in the car! Legend has it, Daddy almost fainted. Of course, Larry knew what he was doing and it was perfect. Years afterward, Daddy would tell the story and laugh at himself.
Two of my earliest memories of cars being exciting and beautiful are vague, so I must have been very young, maybe five or six. The first is of a Black Ford Crown Victoria. Probably around 1955, I remember seeing them on the street and we (Mama, Daddy, Pat and me) would point them out and talk about them. I was very small and was with my Daddy at some type of gathering. It was probably an extended family gathering as those made up a large part of our outings. Someone had a Crown Victoria and Daddy asked me if I wanted to go for a ride. I was excited and of course I wanted to ride in it! I remember being in the car and I felt very small, but very important, in the back seat! I have asked my Brother, Pat, if he remembers and he doesn’t. I don’t remember him being there at the time, but the memory of the car is so vivid, I am sure it really happened. The other memory is similar. I was with Daddy and someone there had a convertible (Pat remembers my Uncle Bob having a Yellow 1949 Plymouth Convertible, so that may have been it) I was taken for a ride, and it was a thrill.
My Uncle Ed and Aunt Jennebelle were quite hip in their day. Uncle Ed had a 1953 MG TD, it was British Racing Green. On Saturday afternoons, he would come to our house on Parker Avenue and take Pat and me for a ride. We frequently rode to Mathis Dairy. When my cousin Mark was born, the MG was sold and a 59 Chevy Wagon replaced it. According to Uncle Ed “when you have a boy, you have to have a wagon.”
My Uncle Bob and Aunt Colleen and my cousin Joe moved to Birmingham in 1959. Joe is an only child, one of the twelve Parish cousins and one of the Famous Five (four of my Parish cousins and I were born between July 4, 1948 and January 31, 1949. I am the youngest and the only girl of the five). Uncle Bob was an avid stock car racing fan, and when transistor radios came out, Bob always had the single headphone in his ear on race day, if he was not there in person. The Parish Cousins, particularly the famous five, would visit Birmingham in shifts in the summer time. I look back and wonder if I had been Colleen and Bob would I have been as welcoming to a summer of nieces and nephews coming and going. At their house, there was so much laughter and fun, but also work. Uncle Bob would leave chores for us. Like sweeping the driveway or washing the dishes. We did the chores gladly, because the rewards were great. Uncle Bob had rules…one I remember is “you never stand in line to spend money.”
Two summer trips are particularly memorable.
A favorite trip to Birmingham, was on a Cousin swap out. My cousin Steve had been visiting Joe and my Uncle Harry and Aunt Beverly were driving me over and picking up Steve. They had a 1962 Red Chevy Impala Hardtop. (In 2016, my brother Pat, Patrick and I went to Barrett Jackson in Phoenix. It was a fantastic time with my brother as we went down memory lane as we walked through the cars. When we saw a red 62 hardtop, we looked at each other and said “Uncle Harry”, we took our picture in front of it.)
Beverly told me later that for the entire trip I entertained them hanging over the front seat and chattering. I had been to Colleen and Bob’s several times and they were counting on me to find the house. They knew generally where it was and we were riding around with them asking is this the right street? No GPS, no Google Maps, no cell phones. While I have always been good at looking at a map and finding places on the map, translating that into driving down actual streets has sometimes, been a problem. We kept circling around until I looked up and there it was!
Another summer, my cousin Dale, her brother Danny and I were all going to visit Birmingham at the same time. Our parents decided we could go alone on the train. What an adventure! When it came time to go home, my brother Pat was to pick us up and drive us back to Atlanta. He had a 55 Chevy Delray. Pat was the oldest of the Parish Cousins and he was deemed responsible enough to get us home. We stopped along the way to buy a snack. It was boys in the front, girls in the back. Danny bought a Zagnut Bar and we were back on the road. It was summertime, no air conditioning so we were on the open road with all of the windows down. Danny, in the front passenger seat, opened the Zagnut Bar and it must have been old, because it was mostly dust and blew all over Dale and me in the back seat. We were all yelling and laughing!
Dale and Danny’s Dad, my Uncle Ben, was a Chrysler/Plymouth man. He loved the big station wagons with the rear facing seats. Many a time on family outings with them, Dale, Danny and I were in the rear facing seat, Danny and I being clowns for the cars behind us! Dale was a little older and more subdued, but she always laughed with us.
After the 55 Chevy, my brother had a 57 Chevy and then a 57 Corvette. When I met Bill Beyerle, he had a 57 Corvette and thus the love of Corvettes started. My brother even took my friend Kay and me to a drag race, three of us in his 57 Vette. We were about fifteen and we thought we were hot stuff!
My first car was a 1961 Karmann Ghia Convertible. I bought it myself. Daddy was a firm believer, if you wanted a car, you got a job and earned the money, and you paid Cash! No payments, if you didn’t have the cash, you didn’t need the car! I went to work as a junior in High School for Southern Bell Tel and Tel and deposited most of my check into a Savings Account. Daddy found the Karmann Ghia, I think from an ad in the paper and he and I went to see it. I had $200 Cash and we bought the car on the Spot. Daddy wrote the check and I paid him the cash.
I named it the “Sopwith Camel” and frequently it was just the “Camel.” I was 17 years old, an honor student, working and had a cool car. It was 1966 and Life was good!
And so begins my love affair with cars I owned and co-owned. In addition to the Sopwith Camel, there was a 1968 Plymouth Roadrunner (co-owned with Bill). We ordered it and waited until it came. It was a beast! When we picked it up and took it to show it to Mama and Daddy, Daddy’s first reaction was “Why does that car have a chicken on it?” And so, it became the “Chicken Car”. Sometime in the early 80’s Bill and I bought a 1965 GMC Camper Special off a used car lot in Kennesaw, Georgia. It was a “three on the tree” and we could all four ride on the bench seat, even with Beau in the baby seat. We named it “Buck the Truck”. In 1998, I ordered a 1999 Chevrolet Corvette, Torch Red Coupe, Six Speed, “the red car”, it was my midlife crisis and my rebellion car! These have all been sold, several to friends or family. But I currently have my 2005 Jeep Liberty, with over 140K miles. “Heap” continues to serve me well after 14 years and although, I frequently contemplate a newer car or truck, I find it hard to part with it! There have been a good many other cars along the way, but these are the ones that had names and to which I continue to have an emotional attachment.
To be continued…
(Content as I remember, while this is more of an emotion based musing, if you remember it differently, let me know. Also any details you can add to the story where my memories are a little hazy, please do.)
Love and Peace, Linda.
Musings of This Old Girl 