Tuesday, October 30, 2007

A Studebaker is not a Ford.




















This past Saturday Mark and I went to the Florida State Studebaker meet in West Palm Beach. Mark drove there it was a bit nerve wracking with Mark driving scared and making weird noises every time a truck or car larger than ours passed him. The most interesting thing is that Mark makes the same hisses and noises, and says the name Jesus a lot whether he’s driving or I’m driving. The Jesus part is weird since he’s an atheist or maybe that’s just one of his old Puerto Rican buddies from New Jersey. One thing that he did, which I really didn’t approve of, was to threaten to slam on the brakes when a huge eighteen wheeler was tailgating two feet behind our car.

I stumbled into my interest of Studebaker quite by accident. When I was fifteen I really wanted to buy a car. Not any car, but a car from the 1930’s, preferably a Ford. There was something about those big old bulbous autos with that deco styling I just loved. Of course at the age of fifteen, not having a drivers license and having a dad who thought I was nuts, I’d have settled for a Rambler station wagon. To my father, cars from the 1930’s were just the old junks of his teen years. So when my dad came home from work one night and said a friend of his had a 1935 Studebaker for sale for $300, and would I like to buy it, I just about peed in my pants with excitement.

In my fevered mind that car was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on. It was a huge, black, four door sedan with a shiny deep black lacquer paint job. Of course I bought it on the spot, and rode home in the passenger seat with my dad driving it and telling me what a piece of crap it was. Until I got my learners permit all I could do was drive it up and down the driveway. To extend my driving thrill a few feet more I’d even drive it onto the backyard grass. After getting my learners permit I recruited my buddy Ray Zoberis because he already had a drivers license but no car. This allowed me to drive all over town with as many of my friends and hangers on as we could pack into that old car.
Over the years my life changed and after moving out on my own a collector car wasn’t feasible. There wasn’t really a place to keep it when I was living on a hippie commune, much less the money for upkeep. So my dad sold it for $600 and gave me the original $300 I’d paid for it, keeping the rest as payment for six years of storage in his garage.
Since then I’ve had the occasion to own four more Studebakers, a Willys Overland, and a 1955 Chevy pickup truck. They’re all gone now and all I have is a PT Cruiser that I don’t really drive. Yet every time I go to one of these old car meets, that lust for another old car stirs again. Then I look in Hemmings (‘The’ old car bible), and I see the prices they’re asking for a car I probably won’t really even drive, and the lust turns to dust. Maybe I’ll just drive the PT Cruiser around in my driveway and pretend it’s a big old 1935 Studebaker.

10 comments:

  1. What type of car is the first picture here? If it's a Studebaker I would say it looks a bit like the PT.

    Have you ever been to an antique auto auction? I bet that could be fun.

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  2. That was my first car when I was 15. A 1935 Studebaker and the PT Cruiser looks like it, not the other way around. Yes I have been to a antique auto auction at Holiday Park. Mark went nuts and wanted to bid on a car. I actually had to physically drag him out of there.

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  3. The one thing I remember about that old car in the garage, was the time the boy who Mom used to babysit convinced me that it would be fun to make the windsheid wipers move and of course we broke them. I was so afraid of you, I hide for days when you came home. You never even yelled at me, you just gave me this sad, disgusted look, I felt horrible. I never touched the car again.

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  4. Mary.... I don't remember that at all. It must have been my heavy marijuana years. Trust me, I f****d up more than one of my own cars.

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  5. everyone has great memories of your Studebakers. I remember getting a ride in it the time you had to use the hand brake to stop it. I found it exciting , wondering if we were going to stop or not. Riding around with you, window rolled down, elbow out the window. I really thought that was cool except that I was to short to see out the window. Watching you work on the car I paid attention.I remembered the starter button on the engine. You'd press it and the engine would turn over. I didn't realize you had the car out of gear.So one day I was in the garage with some friends.I was bored. I opened the engine compartment. Everybody thought it was cool. "WATCH THIS!" I hit that button, the car took off forward right in to the back wall of the garage.After ascessing the damage we pushed the car back in place, moved the big wooden toy box in front of the part of the wall that was moved away from the foundation.Didn't look too bad. Dad never noticed.

    Some day I'll tell you about 8 drunks in a 1955 President.

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  6. I thought it was David who drove it through the back wall of the garage.....
    Please, I don't want to hear about the '55 President being abused. I loved that car. Actually I loved them all and feel bad that I didn't save them all from a bad end.

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  7. Technically I didn't drive it through the wall. I was next to it when I pressed the button.
    The '55 was a great car.We only needed it the one time. The police were looking for the Maverick. Didn't think they'd notice a slow moving Studebaker on Oak Park Ave.

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  8. That Maverick got a lot of use. First Dad had it then you and Lisa, finally I used it. I sold it to another cab driver in Chicago I think in 1980. One day the Chicago Police came to my door and asked me about the Maverick. It had been used in an armed robbery. The guy I sold it to never re-registered it and kept my old license plates on it. Lesson learned, I always remove the plates now when I sell a car.

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  9. So how much money did you get.....I'm talking about for the car, not the robbery. hehe

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  10. I've never ridden in a Studebaker... but I do remember your Lincoln Continental with the suicide doors... That car was beautiful. I don't have the patience or finances to maintain an older car. However, I do miss my '65 Chrysler very much even though it was the source of so much stress and frustration. It too was beautiful.

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