Skip to main content

Flashback Friday

A couple weeks ago you saw my old car, Priscilla.  Today you get to peek at Baby.  Perhaps the biggest of my many mistakes,  I sold Baby when I came to Florida.  Sold all of them.  Committed all the way.  Someone should have stopped me, at gunpoint if necessary.  But, life is what it is (I actually hate that phrase, and sorry to be throwing it out/up today).  

She was a 1962 Plymouth Belvedere that I spotted alongside the road in Macomb and had to have it.  Its a good story and needs to be repeated, I suppose.  But it hurts.   


At car shows you always see the usual.  Vettes, Mustangs, Chevy's.  I liked the oddball makes, the unloved beauties that no one else wants.  Four-doors?  Its fine with me, although in old car circles 4-doors merit little attention.  She was sitting by the side of the road, with not much shine left.  I stopped and she only had  a little under 7,000 miles.  I was bowled off my feet and having had an old car in high school and college was anxious to get back in.

After going home I couldn't get the car out of my mind, and let the current Mrs. Blythe know it in a letter.  It stated that I had to have it and my future happiness depended on it.  You know the kind of stuff.  She didn't respond.  The following Sunday I drove back down to see it and it was gone.  I returned home dejected, its sale would wreck me forever.




Those are trophies on the far wall, some of which belonged to Baby.  And that phone booth was my garage urinal.

The following Friday, I came home from work and pulled the garage door up to put away my truck, and sitting there was my ugly duckling car.  Mrs. Blythe had bought it and the reason why it wasn't down there when I drove to see it was because the owner was taking it for a wash.

Regardless of my waning memory and slow physical destruction, I will remember that as the single greatest surprise of my life.  



The elderly lady just picked on out from the lot and this one had a 318 V-8.  Plenty of power for a lady grocery shopping. 

She needed new paint and new upholstery, but I didn't mind.  She was gorgeous and yes, those were original miles on the car.  An elderly lady had bought it originally so that her husband didn't have to take her to the grocery store anymore.  After she passed her neighbor, the guy I bought it from only used it to go golfing with which was just down the road. 


It had the original spare tire in her.  And we went to dozens of car shows together, where she always drew a crowd of folks who usually said things like , "My aunt had one of these."  



The vinyl was still exquisite and the rubber quite pliable.  Odd and unique for an old cart this age.


When I had her repainted I asked the guy/artist if he could somehow keep the dealership label intact.  It came from Miller Chrysler-Plymouth in Macomb.  You can see it reflected in this picture.  Once at a car show in Monmouth the grandson of "Miller's" noticed the tag and it brought back memories for him.



Original spare and 'Baby" license plates.


Ugly/beautiful front.



Glens Upholstery did the cloth seats for me from identical material.


Majestic.  the 62 was a downsized version after a rumor circulated through out Detroit that Chevy was downsizing.  It ended up being Chevy was coming out with a downsized car (Chevy II) but Chevy cars were actually bigger that year.  Plymouth and Dodge had downsized in reaction tot he rumor, and without big cars, 1962 was a sales disaster for both.


This is the downsized car and customer avoided it.  The owner of Chrysler called it a "plucked chicken."


Anyway, she was a great friend of mine and never left me stranded.  her only fault was she overheated easily and finding a new radiator would have been challenging.  She would never have survived Florida.

No rust, no radio, it was an option-less car but to me she was the most beautiful car in the world.  Someone should have stopped me.   

To this day I still can't attend old car shows around here, because the pain is too great.  Perhaps someday, someday soon, I will get back into the old car hobby.  They are expensive though.  I should have kept collecting stamps. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Flashback Friday

Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless.  Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001.  It was one of those things that can generate crime:  two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job.   Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things.  Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold.   But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find.   His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead.  He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds.  He will be paralyzed for life.   None of this is pleasant.  Reading the f...

Florida Air Museum - Part 3

Welcome back to a pretty neat tour of the Florida Air Museum in Lakeland Florida.  There's a lot to see and a couple of the old Geezer Gold Wing guys are already sitting down instead of walking around looking at the exhibits. That's John who is wore out and making a call to his wife.  In all honesty, John was pretty well bushed before the ride.  He told me his daughter's family was down from one of the Carolina's with the grand kids and he must have played with them too much.   He's about to take off on his own and head for home, but he's going to miss a couple of neat things out on Hangar A.   But, before we walk over there, we have lots yet to see here.  If you saw The Aviator with Leonardo DiCaprio playing Howard Hughes, you'll remember that he went up in a plane during the filming of one of his movies to prove a point about flying.  He crashed trying to execute a roll and this is a picture of the plane he crashed.  No...

Summer Swim

It's Monday and the start of another work week.  Except for me.  I have the week off because the parents of my daycare charges are taking the week off, too. This is one of those wordless posts I love on Mondays so I can put my laziness in full view of loyal readers.  These pics need no words.  Why muddy the waters?   They were taken at the pool at Sinkhole Estates aka Death Valley.  The nice thing about this pool is it is heated in winter.  If one must find positives in one's situation, I suppose that is one.  But, please, no more.