Well, you know I like the cruise-ins in the Downtowns where they have all the cars from my young days – and believe it or not some even before that. My first car was a 15-year-old 1941 Studebaker. It looked perfect on the outside. Inside was a different story, I had taken it to Philadelphia to attend college along with a friend of mine. It did ok in town, but on the way back on the Pennsylvania Turnpike on a cold wet night I passed a Caddy. I said to my friend “look at this,” and boom the windshield wipers went straight up and the car died.
We made it to the side of the road. Eventually a state trooper came by and called a tow truck who took us to a mechanic’s shop in Ephrata, Pa. Have you ever been in Ephrata on a dark and stormy night in the middle of a Pennsylvania winter? I have no idea how we got to a train station in Lancaster and were able to take one to Pittsburgh where my father picked us up. He was not too happy about it, but he did it. They fixed the timing gear in Ephrata, but the next time we came home, the Studebaker would barely make it up the hills in Western Pennsylvania.
My Dad took pity on me, and he went out and found a nice 1949 Ford. Actually I could have had a 1950 Henry J instead, but went with the Ford.. That is what I drove proudly when I met the Blond in the house. It worked during our courtship until one snowy day, I started down a hill and there was a semi coming up my side of the road. The Ford did not do well. So I went to a 1951 Ford which was not nearly as good as the “49. While in the Army I traded it in on a used ’56 Ford Fairlane.
All of the above is sort of a prelude to my one gripe about the cruise-ins, which is the lack of a good old Nash. My father loved the Nash. We had a ’48 Ambassador that was as fast as any car around. He also had ‘50 and ‘51 Nash Ambassadors, which were often referred to as “inverted bathtubs” due to their design. Those things were monsters. You practically had to holler to whoever was in the passenger seat. Nash had the first reclining seats, a radio antenna that you could raise and lower, plus a foot pedal that you could use to change the radio station.
A girl I dated (ssh, not the Blond in the house) and I did not agree on music. She would get a station on the radio that I did not like. I found if you pushed the radio button down half way with your foot, it would cut out all the sound. So I would say that the station had been lost, and then I would find one I liked. She never did figure out what I was doing. Good thing as her temper was not as nice as The Blond’s.
The point is that I just do not see any of those Nash’s around. I have not attended all thecruise-ins and it is possible that I have missed a magic moment. I have seen Nash Metropolitans as displays in stores, but not a regular Nash. I haven’t even seen our first new car which was a Nash Rambler American with a continental tire kit. Wish I still had it!. The Metropolitan forthose who do not know, don’t remember, or do not even care was a very small car whose closest relative today is most likely a Smart Car – at least as far as size.
I will close with the hope that someone out there in the wide and beautiful Villages has a Nash and will take it to a cruise-in. It will be the hit of the night! No question!
Barry Evans is a Villager.