Automobiles, Cars and Piles of Junk Cont'd

The next chapter in my exploits as a car owner happened when my mother died in the spring of 1963. The Red Cross paid my way to her funeral in San Diego and I accompanied my grandmother and Harold back to Selma afterwards. I bought the Mercury from a used car lot in Selma. She was a shiny low mileage used 1956 Mercury 2 Dr. Hardtop in two-toned green, dark below light on top. Quite a nice ride she was and in top notch condition. I was determined to take her back to Keesler with me so I could explore Mississippi and Louisiana more easily on the weekends. They sent me on my way with a couple of ham sandwiches and some blankets to let me sleep in the car on my way to Keesler if I needed too. I drove down the 99 and headed out into the desert towards the old Route 66 that I was going to take east to my destination a couple of thousand miles away. I got as far as half way to Blythe across the icy cold desert when the Merc coughed and quit. I sat by the side of the road for a long while and finally signalled a car who stopped and gave me a ride to the nearest town where I called Harold for advice on the car. He told me to hold tight and he drove the 150 miles to fix it (blocked fuel filter) and take me to the Greyhound station in Selma the next afternoon to renew my trip back to the base. The Merc remained in Selma for a while. When I got my permanent duty assignment at Beale AFB I returned via air to Fresno, Harold picked me up in the newly waxed and cleaned spotless Mercury which I soon drove north to Beale AFB outside of Marysville. I got it licensed for use on the base and used it going back and forth to visit my parents and girl friends in Selma on weekends that I was able to. It got about 15 mpg and was fairly reliable as well, it looked nice and my dates appreciated that it got us to the skating rink and home again without either running out of gas or go due to crappy mechanicals like the old Ford often did. I put many thousands of miles parading that car all over northern California until one day on the way back to the base from Selma it died and Harold came the 60 miles to rescue me again. It was adios to the Merc, sold for parts now in the 8th year of it's existance. I bused my way back to the base on Sunday and bought a new car about a month later. The verdict: Another piece of junk.

Cars, Automobiles, Pieces of Junk

Cars, I've owned many since I was 16 years years old. The kids I knew in the little valley town of Selma, California ogled cars. Ate, slept and ran after cars. Walking the deserted downtown streets at night we'd stop at every newish car and check it out, tires, chrome, radios, upholstery, anything and everything. This was the era of the '55 Ford and Chevy's...very desireable then and more so now some 50 years later. The 56's were even better and our little town had a bunch of them, some with v8's that roared loudy through thier glass-pack mufflers as they sped by us after school. I abhored walking to school amidst the traffic so soon befriended a guy who owned such a car, a (Ford Futura 2 dr sedan) and then after we became fast friends. He'd pick me up the the morning for the 5 minute ride to the school parking lot, carefully pick out the choicest spot next to some giggly girls and there we'd be. I had picked out a Ford 4 dr sedan, as plain as day for my first venture into automobile ownership, it was 52 and as homely a car as I could imagine, but the price was right at $400 in 1960 dollars and thoroughly affordable. I had to convince my parents but they knew it was going to happen. When 15 1/2 yrs of age in the US of A or at least California a kid wants and NEEDS a car to have any status whatsoever. Besides it would mean they wouldn't have to pick me up after work at 2pm at the Selma Motel off highway 99 near Floral Avenue. It was "across the tracks" which meant in a bad neighborhood in those days so me alone out there walking home at night, not on a bet! My grandmother would never allow it. So my step-grandfather Harold came down in his '56 pink and white 2 door Buick Century to pick me up until I bought the Ford late one afternoon after school with my hard earned money. Now I had a car, the year was 1959. I was free, sort of.
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Here's one I found on the net for your viewing pleasure:

I used this car through my graduation at high school in 1961 and through by somewhat abbreviated college experience at the nearby Reedley College about 20 miles NE of Selma. It served me well enough, every other start took a jump or a push but it ran, sort of. Yes it was a V8, a flat head Ford. Verdict: This was a piece of junk.
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In the fall of 1962 I gave up on Reedley and joined one day the United States Air Force. The Ford was left behind to be sold as I certainly had no more use for a car.