great story. reminds me of when my buddy first bought his 66 mustang, we were 15 and not old enough to drive so he would get his dad to pick him up from work in it. So one day his dad picks me up on his way to pick up his son from work, and well, the man had alot of fun with that car and his sons expense. He would drive it like it was stolen.....at one point hes doing 80mph in a 35 zone pulling rubber into 3rd and he turns and says to me "ian (his son, owner of the car) doesnt know how I drive his car......lets keep it that way" one of the most funniest moments ive had in an old car. When his son was in the car he would drive it like a old lady, I never told him how his dad drove until years later.
Great story Ryan. My first car (that my mom knew about) was a 55 Bel Air 2 dr sedan, Burgandy and white with Sears rebuilt 235 and 3 speed. I bought it off a used car lot in 65 for $175. I was 16. It was just a 6 with a 3 speed, but with those factory 4.11 gears, I sure smoked a lot of mid 60's Impalas and every other 6 cyl. in town. I loved that car. Unfortunatley, it was stolen while I was away in the army. I found it years later sitting in some woods about 15 miles from our house, completely stripped and sitting on the frame with major rust from the wet ground and humidity. I had some serious thoughts of dragging it out of there and rebuilding it, (I still had the ***le) but it was in TN and I lived in CA, so it would have cost a fortune to get it home before I could even start on it. Oh well. My dad was a bootlegger in TN, so he always had fast cars, most of them with Olds Rocket power. Unfortunately, he was forced to leave the state after cutting up my mom when I was about 8. He was insanely jealous and thought she was screwing around, but that's another story. So I never got to share those kinds of experiences with him like you did with your dad. But I still got the fever. Like you said, the nut doesn't fall far from the tree. I mean apple. Whatever. I manged to own 30 55's over the years, along with several 56 and 57's, in various states of disrepair and a few really nice drivers. My brother-in-law (best friend at the time) also had a white 55 hardtop, also with a 6. Mine blew his away. Another friend had a white 57 hardtop with a 6. He gave the best run of them all, but he still couldn't beat me. I guess that's why I'm such a big fan of 6 cylinder Chevys now, 40 years later. Thanks for sharing and bringing back some fond memories. Man, I wish I could afford one of those 55's now. db
People want to know what's so cool about the '55-57 Chevys. Well... it's because most of them have a story just like that one. Good read.
makes me feel like going out back a firing up my 55' belair. naah! it's way too ****ing cold gonna have to wait till spring!
****. You're gonna make me cry. I swear to God that when that motor blew little pointy pieces of engine parts came out the pipes. Antifreeze and oil made a slick spot on the runway for 300 feet. I must say that you took it rather well. I would give anything to have a picture of your expression when I explained the situation to you. Sorry Ryan
Great story! They always looked good with the front bumper off and jacked up in the front. Coming of age in the mid '60s I owned a bunch off '55s and a few '56s. Been over 35 years since I owned a '55, now I'm building a Nomad. Not gonna have the g***er look but hopefully it will look good pulling a trailer with a coupe or roadster behind and make my wife's bad back be more comfortable.
Neat story, and one I can relate to more than most... My first car was a '55 Chevy 210 sedan... I spent 3 years getting it to look like this (see pic). I rebuilt a 327 for it... and once I got it in, and all bolted up (the car was still in original paint and primer spots) we broke in the cam, and took it for a spin. I was ***** footing it around because my dad was in the car... we drove out to the outskirts of town... and then my dad says "Pull over..." We pull over... he gets behind the wheel... and says "You gotta break it in like you're gonna drive it!" And proceeds to mash the pedal to the floor and smoke the right rear tire for what felt like half the length of a football field! I still get a kick out of that. No "55mph and under for the first 3000 miles" No "Keep it below 3000rpm for the first 25 hours of operation" Nothing. Dad liked to haul ***. Sam. I think we need to help Ryan find his '55... I mean, how hard would it be to find a '55 Chevy with Jesus plastered in the back window? Ryan, do you still have the VIN number? July 1984 and that's me at 14 years old, sitting on the fender. 3 years later...
My Father also bought my first car (at a garage sale) a 1972 Trans Am 455 4 speed! And he has been there helping since!
My Dad wasn't around much when I was a teenager. But none the less, I'll never forget the feeling of buying my first '55 when I was 17. I had saved up for quite a while and could still only afford a beat up stocker with the 6 cyl. and 3 speed. I found it at Pate and the guy delivered it to my house. It was delivered on a school day, during the day, so I skipped cl*** to meet him. He pulled it off the trailer and one to the wheel cylinders was stuck. So I drove it around the block to get into the garage dragging a back tire the whole way. I think I also might have been in 2nd because I had never tried to drive a 3 on a tree before. But it was still one of the best drives I've ever experienced. I was a pretty messed up teenager. But that sense of accomplishment from saving and buying that car was a great feeling. I skipped the rest of the day to pull the wheel and try to figure out how brakes work so I could fix it. Unfortunatly, I never did "build" the car. Just drove it like it was because I didn't really have the $$$ or knowledge to hot rod it. I could have really used the HAMB back then! Eventually, I let it get away. But now I'm going to build the Field Car into the hot rod that I always wanted the first one to be.
Great story, Ryan. Thanks for sharing. Funny how stories about cars can turn pretty quickly into stories about the people who shaped us. I blame my old man for this too. Before I was old enough to talk, I used to sneak downstairs from my room at night to sit on his lap and watch drag racing on TV. When they would launch, I would yell "ZOOM!!" and get us both busted by my mother. I was about four when my Dad took me to my first top fuel event. I remember his giant hands held over my ears as the cars lined up, and when they launched, my eyes shook inside my skull and I could feel the sound inside my chest and stomach. I was absolutely terrified, but once that p***ed, I couldn't wait for them to line up again. Of course, my mother isn't innocent in all this either... she's the one who taught me how to do a brake stand, and to this day I still call her with 12V wiring questions. Not far from the tree at all. The shade was nice back then.
Wow! That's just pure sweet ***! I hope you know how lucky you are and smile every time you look at that car!
Gret read Ryan, gotta love them Hot Rod Pops! When I was just a little kid, my parents would leave me in the house with my older sister to take care of me. They would go out to the tin paint-booth-turned-shop, heated by a single kerosene furnace and together built the '32 Chevy that I grew up in. Mom herself cleaned and hand painted every nut and bolt on the ch***is, for her work, she decided to paint her nickname on the pumpkin of the '32. Still on there to this day. I have lots of stories about Dad gettin me the 'bug' but I love how mom would be right out there with dad building a car we couldn't afford!
The guy that etched Jesus in the gl*** was just telling every one who they were following. Like saying Jesus beat you like a money changer at the temple.
My first car was a 55 Bel Air paid $500 for it. I de-chromed it and filed the holes with full of bondo it was the cool thing to do then. (1964). I had no Idea what I was doing but I was cool, no one to hekp me out. I bought some crome reverse wheels brand new for $17.00 each. My old man hated cars and hated me for liking Cars. I learned today that they took away his drivers license away from him as he totaled his car into a house two weeks ago he was to embarr***ed to tell me.
My dad always told me that if I were going to have a car of my own at 16 I was going to pay for ALL of it. He just couldn't see any logical reason for a 16 year old to own a car. So after saving my lawn mowing, paper route, snow shoveling money for almost two years I bought a '49 Ford business coupe from a close neighbor. Made payments for 6 months so I wouldn't spend the money and be short on the magic day. Sept. 23, 1960, the car was in the driveway, paid for, driving test completed, license bought, insurance bought(mom took me to the DMV and insurance office so I could get the car on my birthday), hubcaps off, wheels painted RED, and I didn't have a dollar to my name (it's called "cutting it close"). Dad pulls up to the curb after a long flight (he was a career Air Force bomber pilot) and says, "I see you got the car". "Yup", says I. "lets hear it" says he. I fire it up and rev it a couple of times and shut it off. "Sounds like the muffler is shot". " Ya, I'll get one after I get paid next week". "Let me have the keys, your not driving it without a good muffler." "Dad, loan me $15 , I've still got time to take the bus to Speedway motors and get a muffler". We lived in Lincoln Nebraska at the time. "Nope, I told you it was going to be up to you to pay for EVERYTHING. You've taken it this far, the car sits until YOU get a muffler and install it." Hard *** dad? You bet, but he was raised during the depression when you were glad to eat 3 meals a day and you worked as soon as you could hold a job and contributed your pay check to help the family survive. I was pissed for the whole next week until I got paid and bought the muffler and installed it. One week later, muffler bought and installed. Dad pulls up, "Got the new muffler on?" "Ya" "Lets hear it", as I was in the process of starting it. "Sounds a lot better" as he hands me the keys. "Now drive carefully, I don't want anything to happen to you" Priceless when you discover new way of saying "I love you" I miss you Dad. Frank
Great story........I'm jealous.......... My first car: my dad offered me one of the old shop trucks to fix up. I took the '69 El Camino and made a street racer out of it. Then sold it to go to college.....sometimes I wish I still had it.
This post hits home. My parents were divorced and the first car I can remember riding in with my dad was a '55. Every Sunday, he'd pick me and my sister up in it. I guess it wasn't that big of a deal to be driving a 20 year old car in the 70's, but this was his daily driver, Michigan winters and all. Black primer, black tuck and roll with captain chairs, 307 and Keystone Cl***ics. Sweet. There was always an understanding that this was my car. Through several decades, and several step-moms, I finally persuaded him at age 14 that I was ready for it. I took it to my moms and learned the fine art of the tear-down. That's as far as I got. Eventually, as space ran out at mom's and my lack of experience caught up with my enthusiasm, the car returned to dad. Over the years, I thought our little agreement had eroded, as he started talking about what he wanted to do to the '55. I thought I missed my shot at it. My dad died of a heart attack at the young age of 57. I was crushed, but apparently our agreement lived on. He didn't leave a will and his wife ended up liquidating everything despite my objections. However, our agreement didn't die with him. He told her that the '55 was always mine. She did the right thing and signed it over to me. It's in my garage right now, waiting for the right moment. My dad shared his ideal build style with me countless times. It's about time I made it a reality. Cool post Ryan.
Great story Ryan, it's these stories that really define "Car Guys (and Gals)" I have two stories about growing up with cars- brought home in a '70 Impala Custom that Dad still owns to this day. Well, Dad picked up a '64 Galaxie 500XL convertible with a 352 and auto around '79 so that we had a nice car to cruise to club outings as stuff. After about 10 years the original motor starts giving trouble- major blow-by and the carb turned into a lawn sprinkler. Well Dad has a buddy in the club rebuild the engine, nothing special, .030-over, hydraulic cam, etc. Well the whole shebang's back together and we go out to pick it up. Since I was only 13 and my brother was 18, he dropped me and my Dad at the shop. Buddy says the whole things all broken in and ready to go. We stop across the street to fill up, then my Dad tells my brother to stay behind him so he can spot any problems. Dad gets on the highway and we fly home (my Dad always had gl***-packs on it, I know they're kind of cliché, but I will always have a sweet-spot for Cherry Bombs). Well let’s say it's normally a 40 minute drive to the shop. We made it back in 20. After we're home for about 10 min, my brother comes in the driveway asking what the hell happened. I never did tell him Dad didn't let the needle get below 95! Now Mom's story, much shorter but funnier. Right by my house was a main road that went from two-lanes to one right past a traffic light. Needless to say every time we caught the red, it turned from a traffic light into a christmas tree. So one day I'm out with Mom in the Impala and we get caught at the red light, next to some guy in a Datsun who make the mistake of giving his engine a rev. Light goes green and Mom drops the hammer, then she see's red lights, but this time behind her! She's trying to tell the cop that the engine was sputtering and she just gave it gas so it wouldn't stall, while the 4-year-old next to her (who grew up watching Dukes of Hazard) is bawling his eyes out pleading with the cop not to take his Mommy to jail! (hey Bo and Luke always ended up in the slammer for speeding). Two of my best memories. And yes Mom dusted the Datsun.
Okay, I have a 55 story too. Wanted a Vette, not enough room to haul friends around, so bought a 55 Chevy. Dad showed me how to work with lead, and how to paint too. He learned from a lady body"woman" in the 40's and painted my 55 outside. Came out very good with only a couple of bugs, ahhhh how great it was to work with laquer. My Mother stayed up til 3:30am sewing up the seat covers (fur, yeah I know...but it was the late 50's) and helped me carry them out to the garage and helped put them in the night before the 1959 Fort Wayne Auto Show. We took second place in mild custom, not bad for a shade-tree body and paint job. Lots n lots of 55 stories........... When taking my friends 57 Chevy out for a drag race in the evening Dad would check the points and timing to make sure we were in top tune. Sometimes we would take my 55 out to a 1/4 mile marked out on the local highway and see how fast it would turn in that quarter. He always looked a little nervous watching for the police but would holler when we p***ed the marker so I could check the speed. Lots of great times, and stories, but in the earlier years he made me p*** up a Cord for $395 to buy a 49 Chevy coupe (for $250) because he said I would just tear up that front wheel drive, and I needed to haul the neighborhood kids to school. He was probably right, but wow, a Cord for $395!!!!!!!! It would take too many pages to go on with those memories and those made with my fine son, but we have them stored away. Pics of my 55 at the Ft Wayne show and at Shepard AFB. The very same Dodge Lancer caps are on my son's and my 51 Merc now. Oh, and I finally did get my Vette! Ol Blue
IN 1970 my dad let me buy a '55 210 2 door sedan with a 300hp/327 and a 4 speed for $400. My dad isn't a car guy and I'm still amazed that he let a seventeen year old drive a hotrod. Still have my dad and the'55. Thanks Dad
that's a great story/memmory. i unfortunatly have my gearheaded-ness thru blood alone my parents split when i was young, and dad was but a memmory, but from what i hear, he was a gearhead extraordinaire [wouldn't change my life in anyway due to what i have become/achieved/ family i now have], but in a way, i would have loved to see what would have been, what 'we' would have built if he'd have been around in even some degree. i hope to build something with my son in the near future, and make that quality time in the garage something he remembers in the years to come
Careful ,this place has been known to find missing rides. Imagine what they'll do for "DA Boss"!LMAO Great thread,Ryan. Great Dad you've got too.
Great story, Ryan! You write well. My first car was a '55, also. The one in the pic is my second (and last) one. The first was a rattle can black primer 283 powered Bel Aire with a white top. It belonged to my best friend Ken. He was the 'older brother' I never had. Five years older than I, he taught me to drive in that car and I ran my first red light in it, on Woodward Avenue (north of Detroit) chasing a couple girls in a '57 DeSoto. I was 14. In '63, Ken bought a '60 Pontiac Catalina convertible and the dealership gave him $50 trade in for the '55. They were gonna junk it, so Ken's brother-in-law took the AFB off it before the tow truck got there. Well, I wanted that car so I went to the dealership, offered them the $50 (saved from my paper route) for it, and they signed the ***le over to me. Without a carb (and me being only 15), I had to push the car around the block to my house, got it in the yard, and there it sat till a friend, Jimmy Addison (more on him another time) bought it from me for...yep, $50 and turned it into a g***er complete with 10% engine set-back. I never drove it all the time I owned it! This one (in the pic) was also white to begin with. I bought it in Florida (while stationed near Jacksonville at Mayport NS in the Navy) in '66 from a guy from PA. It was a stock 265 2-bbl. 'Glide and ran like a clock. All I did was add a ball joint lift kit from Honest Charlie's and '63 409 station wagon front springs to the front, Air Lift air bags in back. That front end was so rigid, it wouldn't move up and down if you jumped on it! Side to side, but not up and down. Believe me, you felt every pebble you ran over...but it looked cool! The paint was '52 Olds Glade Mist Green and cost me $168. I added chrome wheels and away I went. I and a buddy from Detroit drove the "Green Mo-sheen" from Florida, home to Michigan in just 23 hours straight through (after I got orders to the U.S.S. Saratoga aircraft carrier), and the motor died right there in my folks' driveway as I pulled in! I pushed it into the back yard and later sold it to some guy for...you guessed it...$50! Ahhh, those were the days! Thanks for the memories! Bill Stinson
I have heard these stories of how cheap they were bought and sold back in the day. But never saw a picture of one that looked that good,that cheap.............damn I think Im gonna be sick over that one.....................Thanks for sharing Bill
I love a 55 custom. Someday I would love to build a 55 hdtp custom like yours. Too many projects now, so I'll just finish the bild on my custom Stude, the Kustomliner. Great story. db
The Jalopy Journal
