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Hunker Down with Kes

‘See The USA In Your Chev-ro-let...’

Posted

Gosh, how well I remember the day Daddy drove the 1960 Chevrolet up into the yard. It was green; which we barely noticed. What we did notice was that it was brand new. We’d never had a new car. Ever!

It smelled new. It didn’t have any rips in the seats. The horn worked. It was not the fancy Impala model. It was a four door Bell Air. It did not have power windows, seat belts, air conditioning or a radio.

The radio mattered to Leon. David Mark wanted to know how big the engine (283 cubic inch-V8) was, which pleased him, but meant nothing to me. Both of my brothers were car nuts. I was not.

It was just a means of transportation to me; something to get from Point A to Point B. Besides, I was three years away from being old enough to drive. And you need to remember, in our little town at the time, there weren’t that many places to see.

People stand beside a 1960 Chevrolet today and the first thing everyone says is, “Look how big it is!” That thought never crossed our minds. It was just regular size to us. It was no bigger than the ’59 model, and not much bigger than the old car Dad “traded in” for it. And listen, if you thought the ’60 Chevrolets were roomy, you should have crawled inside a Buick Electra 225!

We didn’t have that thing a year before Leon talked Mother into talking Daddy into buying a radio for it. You could hear Elvis or Fats Domino blasting out of that car when he turned into Paul David Campbell’s driveway near ’bout half a mile up Stonewall Street.

On slow nights Leon would “hide” me in the trunk with the lid tied down so the only thing hanging out was my right arm. He would cover it with “bloody” ketchup and cruise slowly through Frank’s Dairy Bar until the crowd began to yell and point...then he’d take off real fast like he was hiding a dastardly crime. When he got through laughing, we’d go down to George’s DX and repeat the whole thing...

Leon taught me how to drive. It didn’t take long as he allowed there were only two important things to know, “Keep it between the ditches” and “if you run over something or somebody, tell the first officer on the scene that the sun was in your eyes.”

I got my license in January of 1963. A week later we had the big snow and school was canceled for a few days. We got to going over to Billy Bradley’s house each evening and hanging out. Mom was a little hesitant to let me have the car with the ice and snow and all. I assured her I was an experienced driver by now.

You know where Maple Avenue crosses the railroad tracks right before it dead ends into South Stonewall? On my way home I lost complete control of our still almost brand new car as I started down the small grade to the tracks. Folks, that car did a half turn on the ice as I skidded sideways across the tracks... I got a momentary glimpse of the engineer’s view and I’m telling you, if it hadn’t a’been a dark night I could have seen Mr. Ridley unloading freight on the depot platform in town!

The big Chevy, without comment or judgment, slid to a stop in the snow piled up on the far side of Stonewall Street. I couldn’t stop shaking! What if another car had been coming from any direction? What if I had gone over the steep embankment? What if a train had been rolling down those tracks...

It was the greatest single driving lesson I was to receive in my entire life.

And if that tutorial wasn’t plain enough, after fifteen minutes of creeping slowly over the snow and ice trying to get home alive, I slid passed our driveway...

It did get better as the weeks moved into months and the months into years.

That car gave me an independence you would not believe. I didn’t have exclusive rights to it by any means, it was our only family car, but I sure used it a sweet share of the time. I explored my known universe...and then some, in it.

I signed up for a baseball team 20 miles away in Paris because I knew I could get there. I could shop in Jackson and date out of town girls. That car that I didn’t particular feel a need for in 1960 broadened my entire world in 1963, ’64 and ’65.

It certainly became more than the “piece of tin” I first envisioned. And I haven’t even gotten to the advantages, and disadvantages, of dating in such a large monstrosity...

Respectfully,

Kes

Next Week: Leon was dead perfect right about that radio!