This beauty was my first car. I forget how much I paid for her, I want to say $100 but it could have been more. I have simply forgotten. I got it from a guy in Aledo. I think it was a Mr. Morehead.
When the experiment with sharing the Nova failed, and unable to secure the 63 Chevy Impala my grandfather owned, I simply took matters in my own hands and bought this lovely old Volkswagen. And when I say antique, it was pretty old when I bought it. It was a 1957 model, and is most evident when looking at the rear - it has a small oval window. These early bugs all had the small rear window and, today, these are worth quite a lot of money. The first generation Bugs sold in the US were split-window. Mine was a second gen and of I'd held onto it the average retail is around $12, 500 and depending on condition can go as high as $24, 000. But then I wasn't concerned about which generation it was, small window or not, I had my first wheels. I had other things on my mind.
I loved that VW, so much so that a few years later I would get another one. But I am getting ahead of myself. This Bug ran like a charm and looking back I can't understand why I would have ever gotten it because as you can imagine there are no import mechanics in Seaton, or Aledo or anywhere else close by. But I don't remember any breakdowns or how I ever parted with her.
I got in a habit of washing and waxing her every weekend. I'd pull her out behind the house where there was an outside spigot and hose. I usually did this on Sunday afternoons. After a while I began to buff off the paint and reveal the primer beneath. Thus the new paint job.
She provided me the wings I had dreamed of. I don't know if kids today have the same feeling their first wheels provide. Perhaps guys don't mind riding around in their friends cars - no gas costs, insurance, maintenance and all that. But for me, this was my temple, my wings. I believe cars provide more than simple transportation. They are the impetus to independent thinking and while maybe a bit hyperbolic, they are the gateway to independence. It's not as simple as just hopping in and going; it takes planning, organization, and an awareness of what it takes to undergo and navigate to successful completion.
One other aspect that may have played an important role in my loving my first car so much was the fact I was a twin. Twins share. Twins wear same clothes. It may have been that when we developed our own persona's that individual belongings mean more. No wonder Marj and Herb wanted us to share - it was a kind of buddy system that would allow each of us to "parent" in our parent's absence.
Aledo, where we went to Junior High and High school was no longer a place we went to by bus, older brother, mother or twin. Now it was done on our own terms and our own abilities. And that is true freedom.
The V-Dub was a basic machine. All it had in the way of extras was a radio. It had a speedometer, heater, and ash tray. There was a glove box and stick shift between two front seats. The back seat was minimal but could seat a couple small people, which it did on occasion. It was a not a make-out car. (That added to the planning and preparation of outings.) I'm sure I don't have to tell you that the engine was in the rear, was air-cooled, and the front was trunk space.
The best feature was something found on some motorcycles. Because there was no gas gauge, when you ran out of gas you could reach down under the dash to the left and flip down a small lever that would provide another gasoline of gas to get you wherever you needed to go or to the next gas station. Of course, failure to flip the lever back up at refill would mean you were out of luck next time.
For our time together we plied the roads from Seaton and Aledo primarily. I still recall the late nights trips back home puttering along, rather slowly in my car. With the window rolled down on summer nights and the hum of a small 1200 cc engine (my motorcycle has 1854 cc), no front end to speak of to obstruct your view, it gave you a very different view of the road.
I found this video on YouTube of a kid driving his 57 Bug. Mine was very similar to this: very spartan interior. On the sides of the door were elastic pockets for storage. Heat came in through two small vents on the floor. You would simply open the vent and heat would come in that way. There was no on-off switch, per se. Just pull the vent open.
And some point it gave out or needed an engine overhaul which signaled the end. My memory is foggy. Our Sunday afternoon wash and waxes ended and while everyone moves on from their first car, this one was special. But losses sometimes provide opportunity. And we'll talk about my second car sometime fairly soon on Flashback Friday.
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