Wednesday, March 20, 2013
I spotted this '36 Ford across the parking lot. Clearly it was a Ford, and I was able to identify the model year by the distinctive rear bumper and tire cover. By the time I had camera in hand, the driver had entered and started the car. As I raised the camera, a truck came between me and the subject, the Ford backed out of its space and took off across the lot. The shots are at a distance and cropped.
My interest extended beyond the fact that this was a nicely restored example of the marque. When I was about eight years old, my dad traded his '28 Chevrolet for a '36 Ford. Rather than the five-window coupe, though, he had a more sedate sedan, befitting his position as minister and his needs as a family man. Dad drove this car through WWII, trading it, as I recall, in 1947 for a '41 Chrysler. The speedometer did not work, and I recall that Dad timed his travels against his wristwatch. Reading a sign that would say, for example, "Peyton 21" he would plan to be in Peyton in 21 minutes.
In the bottom picture, note the three chrome strips along the side of the hood. There are three on the other side as well. In our town, there was a young man who had a similar Ford. Dad's car had the chrome strips, the youngster's car did not. He was envious. He had cash. Dad needed cash more than he needed chrome strips. He sold the six items for what he thought was a good amount of money. I don't remember how much it was, if I ever knew.
Another '36 Ford entered my life during my teen years. My best friend, Wes, bought one during our senior year of high school. I took my first ever driver's exam in that car. I did not get a car of my own, though, until I was 21. It was a five-year old 1950 Ford with nearly 100 thousand miles on her.