Reminiscing – My first two cars
Terry Brinson’s 1937 Chevrolet. Photos courtesy Terry Brinson.
[Editor’s note: This “Reminiscing” story, edited by Richard Lentinello, comes to us from Hemmings Classic Car reader Terry Brinson of Orland, California.]
The year is 1955 and I am a sophomore in high school. I am not yet 16, the driving age. I have worked for my father at his service station for over a year now; my mother had to take me to work because it is too far to use the bicycle. This particular afternoon was not unlike any other. My father was sitting behind his desk doing service station paperwork and as I approach, he says (without lifting his head), “by the way, I bought you a car, it’s out back and I will take the $50 out of your pay.” I am excited and apprehensive at the same time because he never asked me what kind of car I might like. I rush out back and there sits a 1937 Chevrolet four-door sedan with the original crappy brown paint. Just the kind of car a teenager wants, right? The good news was it has four wheels, it ran and I would soon be getting my driver’s license.
The Chevrolet and I got along well but the U-joint behind the transmission always seemed to break – I am sure it had nothing to do with me trying to get the old Chevy to burn rubber. This was the beginning of my mechanical training. Changing the U-joint was a very nasty job but after a while I got good at it and as time passed, I got the job done faster. To get rid of the crappy brown paint I primed the car dark gray. I also replaced the original taillamps with 1948 Chevy taillamps and painted the wheels with 1954 Ford “salmon” colored paint. I thought it looked great but my father thought it made it look like a hot rod.
At some point the speedometer quit working. No problem, because our next door neighbor operated a speedometer repair shop. It was over ten years later that my father told me he had our neighbor set the speedometer 5 MPH faster. That probably explains why I never got any speeding tickets.
My mechanical skills were improving as I hunted for the proper parts at the local junk yard. Parts at the local parts store or the Chevrolet dealership were way too expensive for my budget. One day I called the junk yard looking for a part and to my surprise they had what I needed. I asked if I should bring tools. The party on the other end of the phone said, “don’t bother I have a liquid wrench that fits anything”. As I am driving to the junk yard, I am trying to visualize this wonderful magic tool. We did not have anything like that at my father’s station. When I arrived at the junk yard, I was introduced to the acetylene torch. Another lesson learned for my aspiring mechanical training.
About a year into my relationship with the Chevy, late one night, a 1950 Buick rear ended me and did major damage to its “buck tooth grille”. The Buick was towed away and I drove home – a fine testament to the solid construction of old Chevrolets. I sold the Chevy to someone that just wanted transportation and did not care what the rear of the car looked like.
1956 Volkswagen.
The year is now 1956 and I needed a car. A new dealership in Spokane, Washington had just opened, selling a small car called a Volkswagen. I had never heard of a Volkswagen and had no idea what one looked like. I was earning the minimum wage of 75-cents per hour working for my father and I had managed to save $800. The sales representative told me the 1956 Volkswagen cost $1,640, about $1.00/pound. I was short about $840 and not sure what to do. My father knew all about loans and with his expertise he arranged a loan for the needed amount. I am sure the loan was in his name but I was able to pay the loan off in two years. So here I am, a junior in high school, driving a brand new car. Cool!
For the next six years the Volkswagen took me through high school, marriage and then through college. In those days, the Volkswagen was so new and different that all owners beeped the horn when approaching another Volkswagen. The only major work I remember completing on the 1956 VW was a valve job. I used to drive often between Spokane and Seattle, where I attended college. The road was mountainous and it seemed like I was passed by the same cars dozens of times on the uphill grades. The 36hp engine was adequate for everywhere but the mountains, but I would pass them on the downhill!
When I graduated college in 1962, my wife and I took the car to a VW dealership and traded it in for a new 1962 VW. I received an $800 trade-in on the new VW that cost $2,040. What a deal! I have never been able to duplicate low-cost transportation like that again.