By: Jon Stalnaker
AKA The Studebaker Dude
Things were much different back in the 50s, especially when it comes to cars. I grew up with a father whose occupation was to repair wrecked cars. He was a master at it and as far back as I can remember, I wanted to spend as much time as I could with him, even though a body shop was hardly a safe environment for a toddler. My earliest recollection is the day I decided I wanted to visit my dad while he was at work. I was home alone, don’t ask me to explain why, I don’t know, and it wasn’t an issue for me. I had been to my dad’s shop plenty of times and was apparently quite observant in my youth as I had a great since of direction. In my mind, I knew where the shop was and set out to walk there. The shop was about 20 to 30 city blocks from our house. I remember this distinctly as I got just a little bit lost. What I expected to see, I didn’t see, and I knew I was on the wrong street. My keen sense of direction set in, and I somehow knew to go west. Four or five blocks later, I saw the park I was looking for. It was right across the street from my dad’s shop. I walked into the shop and said hi to my dad. He asked me “where’s your mother?” I replied that I didn’t know, and he went ballistic. He went to the office and called my mother on the phone and was clearly out of control angry. I didn’t understand why, and his reaction was a significant emotional event to me, I always remembered that. I was reminiscing this incident with my mother decades later and she was shocked that I even remembered it. She asked me “do you know how old you were?” I did not know, and she told me I wasn’t even 3 years old yet. I still have a hard time believing I could have been that young, but I know of no reason for her to not be truthful to me about that.
I spent much of my young life watching my dad do his magic with metal and bondo. To this day, the smell of bondo takes me back to my happy place, working on cars with dad. By ten years old, I could tell you the year, make, and model of any car that drove by. But it was easier to do back then because style was a big thing in the automobile industry then, and cars looked different each year. At the most they might keep a basic body style for three years, but they would make significant changes each year. Just look at the 55, 56, and 57 Chevy lineup. Commonly known as the tri-five Chevys, the basic body had changed enough each year that it wasn’t hard to know which was which. Now-a-days you can hardly tell the difference between domestic and foreign cars and the styling lasts more like decades than years. It’s no wonder this generation does not get as excited about cars as we did.
Back in the 50s and 60s, most young boys my age were excited when the new models were introduced each year. I probably took it a few steps further. Having a father in the business, I knew where they took the new models to be detailed in preparation of the big reveal in September. I rode my bicycle around all the dealerships in town and just walked in like I owned the place. I can’t remember ever getting tossed out. I knew what the next year’s cars looked like a week or two before they ever hit the showroom floor. It was a big deal in those days and my biggest recollection was the 1965 cars. If you google cars from 1964 and compare them to 1965, you will see how much sleeker they were, especially the GM cars. The 65 Chevy really got my attention. I can still feel the excitement of seeing that car for the first time. And the introduction of the front wheel drive Oldsmobile Toronado and its sister Buick Riviera was over-the-top for the day. Its sad but true, but the introduction of new cars is rarely exciting any more. I’m so glad I got to experience that.
