WHAT CAR IS THAT?

 

Photo by Bill Slavin

Did you know the make and model of every car on the road when you were growing up? 

I wanted to share with you the story my husband, Bill, the photographer, has to tell about the cars on the road when he was young. 

WHAT CAR IS THAT?  by Bill Slavin

Every drive with my dad was a non-stop quiz on the make, model, and year of every car on the road. The '54 Chevy Bel Air at the Danville Car Show this past weekend transported me back to my nine-year-old self, riding shotgun with my dad.

The wind wing was open on both sides, to ventilate my dad's ever-present cigar smoke. We didn't need the windows down. "The wind wing was enough," he said. It wasn't unusual for me to wait in the car, with the cigar in the ashtray, while he did a quick errand. Lots of smoke. It wouldn't pass muster today.

I grew up in cigar smoke. I was shocked to discover in college that smoking a cigar is nothing like smelling the aroma. Smoking, for me, was disgusting, though I really tried to make it work during my college years. Yet, I still find the aroma pleasant even today. (Just don't smoke one in my car!)

My dad was a Buick man. Middle of the road--not too aggressive like a Chevy--and not as ostentatious as an Oldsmobile, and never a Cadillac. The Buick had an understated business-like class.

My dad was always on the road as a sales engineer for General Electric and the Buicks were upgraded every few years. The local dealer would leave a new car in the driveway and ask my dad to give it a try and let him know what he thought. "Take your time. No rush."

Photo by Bill Slavin

One of my chores was to keep the Buick clean and waxed. This often included removing the disgusting black oil that was regularly sprayed on our road in Decatur, Illinois. First, I cleaned off the road oil,  then two coats of wax, then I cleaned the windows to remove cigar film.

Removing road oil became an opportunity for me to earn extra money around our neighborhood. I learned how to remove the black gunk with generous amounts of turpentine and brisk rubbing--a dirty and arduous process--especially around the wheels. Then, I would clean and wax the bottom panels to their deep, rich, original color. It was hard work that generally took several hours but the results were brilliant.

Then it was hard for the customer (always a neighbor) to decline a wax job on the entire car. It would not look good to have the underside shining and the top...not so much. I don't remember how much I was paid, but it always required the customer to think real hard before reluctantly saying yes to the cleaning...and then checking often on my progress. I was thrilled to get paid for what I did at home for free.

Those neighbors were probably playing with me, now that I think of it. Waxing was fun for me because it was so easy, and I could see the result immediately. Every car glowed. I still enjoy waxing a car myself.

Do these photos trigger any car memories for you? I would love to hear your thoughts.

Photo by Bill Slavin

Click here to see all of Bill's car photos