I believe it is a White. I remember Schaefer Beer using them for keg delivery in the five borough's of N.Y. in the 60's. Thanks.
A homemade car named Jakobus, according to the plates its from Gotland sweden, no other info, probably some sort of motorcycle engine in the rear and a aerodynamic bodywork in swedish masonit.
It was cool how the kegs of beer would be rolled off the back of the truck onto a thick rope like pad that looked to be around 2x2' landing upright then knocked over and rolled into the bar. At least that's how I recall it in N.Y. Thanks.
@Sky Six Hello, When the days of cruising around the whole coastal area near our house and down the coast to the plentiful surf spots, the main drag, Ocean Blvd. went right in front of the Villa Riviera. Next door is/was the once famous private beachfront club called the Pacific Coast Club. Even out in the ocean sailing, our vision of the coastal Long Beach was always aligned with the Villa Riviera hotel as a navigation sight line. We knew the area well, but from a different view from the Pacific Ocean, any familiar point is always a center point for knowing which way to go at any time. Or, memories of which way the wind was going to blast us on every direction of our sailing times in the harbor or outside of the breakwater. The Pacific Coast Club on Ocean Boulevard high on the cliff of the shoreline of Long Beach. Because it was right next door to the tall Villa Riviera Resort, people thought it was a part of the whole complex. The exclusivity of the club was similar to the famous Los Angeles Athletic Club. But, this one is on the coast cliffside overlooking the calm waters of the Pacific Ocean protected by the massive breakwater rocks. What was once a thriving surf beach is/was now a calm sea and water’s edge with an occasional ankle lapper of what looks like a miniature wave. Jnaki In my early 20s, I was invited to go to the club to play handball and enjoy the amenities. Well, the one time visit turned into several more visits, always playing handball against some older members with their club, skill set on beating some young whipper snappers… us. A friend had some connections and I went along for the added handball skill set. So, the regiment was arriving in the 58 Impala, the only one parked on the street, playing handball, beating the snot out of those old guys and sometimes giving them a run of a few points to make sure we got invited again. A free lunch, a couple of laughs and just good enough to win by a couple of points. Those old guys had nothing on us other than they had played here on the polished wooden courts for years, while we played on cement courts at the local playgrounds and college campus locations. We would get off a run of 5 points or so. Then we would allow a few points from them to catch up and then make another run of 5 more points, just leading them to think they could beat us easily. Then finally, figuring out they did not like the front corners and that is where we placed some direct shots to win the points to win the game(s). The winners always got a free lunch from the opponents. We never paid for lunch. But, the scores were oh so close. 15-13, 17-15 and 15-12… ha! The young "whipper snappers" versus the old solid athletic membership core of handball players. The @themoose look of my old Impala from 63-64. At least, it was a nice highly polished, fast cruiser, and the only hot rod sedan in the area, but not the same as the Caddies, Mercedes, Jags and other foreign sporty cars in the general club location. Then, it was relaxing steam bath, and a nice lunch on the sand below the club on the lower level. This flat, waveless beach was also leading into a very public beach that our dad used to take us little kids, every time he had a day off. But, the parking was usually packed and we had to use the alley way below the Vila Riviera, as it was our dad’s secret parking spot.
The Jalopy Journal
