Of course, I forgot that I had saved these pictures until today. That lead me to open the picture of the first car, a 1954 Ford Fairlane. I stared at it and smiled. Just seeing the two-tone beauty, it took me back to 1965 and the memories that were attached to that car. The picture below is exactly the same colors and trim. The only difference was that mine was a two door. I know that because I remember my friends struggling to get into the back seat.
What happened before I got this car is the first good story about it. For years, actually since I was 12 years old, I had worked at my dad's gas station. I am not sure that he knew, but the guys that worked for him had taught me how to drive before I was a teenager. When I was old enough to get my license, my dad enrolled me in driver's education. The classes were held at the old Central High School in the basement. There were these huge machines that had the steering wheel, accelerator and brake peddles as well as all the accouterments of a car at that time. In each was a video program that simulated driving a car.
The instructor for our class was the basketball coach for Snider High School. He was adamant in his instruction that we were to be attentive to what we see on the screen, and he made a point that we should not play around with any of the instruments. Of course that was a challenge to some of the teenagers in the room, especially Tony C who was right next to me.
When the video started on the first day, Tony floored his simulator and attempted to hit everything that was in his way. Mr. Kline was checking out other simulators when Tony's machine started to smoke. Seeing this as extremely funny, Tony tried to blow it up. Needless to say, that was the last that we saw of Tony, at least in driver's education.
Well, I passed driver's ed and got my license. During the time that I had my temporary permit, I tried not to ride with my dad. He was far more nervous with me driving that my mother was. So, it was quite a surprise when dad came home with this car. I remember distinctly that he came in the door and asked me if I would drive him back to the gas station. I asked him, "Why?'
He smiled at me and pointed out the front door. "I drove your car home, so I need a ride back to get my car."
I don't remember the drive to the station. I don't know if dad was nervous. In fact, I don't remember much else from that day. What I do remember was that it was early spring. I remember that the next day I went to Jim Ferguson's house to tell him that I didn't need a ride to school any more. And I remember that for the first time in my life I felt a freedom that I hadn't even imagined.
That car was the first in a series of cars that my dad arranged for me. Actually, by the time that I had graduated from high school, I had three different cars. You see, my dad not only managed a gas station, he also sold cars on the side. There were always four to five cars at the station that he was selling. He went to the auto auction every week to get "a great deal." When he found one that he thought was better than the one that I or my siblings had, he sold the one that we were driving and gave us the new one. Now because I was the oldest, I probably was the recipient of this more than they were.
So the 54 Ford was the first. I was the first of my friends to have my own car. At the time it gave me a new identity. My family was in no way rich, but I felt that we were because I had a car! On the other hand there was responsibility. I could now work more at the station, and later. That was when I started to close the station at 11:00. I didn't get a regular pay check for my work, but I could pull up to the pump and fill up any time. In retrospect, I probably made a pretty good wage.
That Ford not only took me to work. It took me to school. At South Side High School at the time, there was no parking lot for students. You had to find a spot somewhere in the neighborhood. Some parked on the street near the stadium. Not me, I found a permanent spot on the street between Azars and Sears. It was where my friends would meet me before and after school.
A year after dad brought me this car, I had my first accident. It was totally my fault. I had just dropped off at her home the girl that I was going to take to the junior prom. I was so enthralled by the fact that she was going to the prom with me and that she had recently asked me to take her home from school that I wasn't really looking when I backed out of her driveway.
To this day, I think that Corvair jumped behind my car. More likely, I backed straight out of the driveway staring at Debbie. Anyway, I felt the crunch behind me, and I froze. What made it more intense, when I got out of my car to see the damage, I saw the owner of the car standing on the other side of his car. There was no expression on his face. Slowly, he walked around the car and looked at the damage. I walked around to see what I had done.
He only looked at it briefly. Then he smiled at me, "Were you watching her walk away? " I just nodded. "Look, son, there isn't any damage to either of our cars, so learn from this, okay?' He laughed and walked back to his house.
I never figured out what the crunch was, but he was right. There was no damage, except to my ego, because as I maneuvered the Ford around to get myself out of the situation, I looked once more to Debbie's house. Her father was glaring at me.
I took her to prom in that car, but when I picked her up, I could barely make eye contact with her father. Nothing was said, but I kinda knew that I wasn't going to go back again. And I didn't.
Soon after prom, dad had my second car ready, but that is a different story.
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