Today's My View rang a bell with me -- cars were a much bigger deal in the 50s than they are even now.
I vividly recall October skies with
searchlights sweeping the horizon as Buffalo car dealers vied for your
attention. The new year's car models were being introduced!
To
the boys on our Cheektowaga street, this annual event was a very big
deal. Unlike today, the yearly changeover was not unnoticed. The new
cars were debuted on a very firm and set day in October, heavily
advertised and eagerly anticipated.
For a week beforehand, car
dealers - in those days pretty much strung along Bailey Avenue - hung
thick curtains or heavy paper in their windows as they moved in the new
cars. No peeking! You had to wait until "the day." Those fabulous new
models even were covered with canvas on the trucks carrying them to the
dealers.
Going to see the new Chevy was an annual ritual for
my father and me. In our neighborhood, our fathers were either a "Chevy
Man" or a "Ford Man." My father was Chevy. My friend Butch's father was
Ford. Each fall, Butch and I had spirited discussions of Chevy versus
Ford.
Each year on "the day," my father and I would head to
Mernan Chevrolet. The showroom was always packed. Often there was a
line. Once in, I would walk around the cars noting the differences -
sometimes subtle - between the new ones and the prior year.
Growing up in South Dayton, I didn't have the resources of a Bailey Avenue literally strewn with car dealers; but even in our reduced rural circumstances , we did have Corkwell's Garage (Ford) on one end of Pine Street and Ruckh's Garage (Chevy/Olds) at the other end some .7 miles away. Luckily for me, Bill Corkwell was an American Legion buddy of Dad's and at the unveiling of each year's new Fords, I was awarded a 1/24 scale model of the previous year's offerings.
As it turns out, Don Ruckh (the evil Chevy-seller) had gone to high school with Dad, also belonged to the Legion and his son was one of my best elementary school pals. Dad and I dutifully scoped out the new Chevies each Fall but since Dad bought "Ford" -- well, you know, the lines were drawn. There were no free scale models of Impalas in my collection.
I recall one afternoon in fourth grade when I'd gone to the Ruckh's Garage after school with Keith (the Chevy-sellers son.) We hung out for awhile, talked about Theresa and Mary (the class foxes,) played Battleship and did whatever fourth grade boys do. Eventually Don came up to us and said, " There's an F-O-R-D out there, must be time for Craig to go home." Ah yes. It was a simpler time.
It was a time when Americans split down the middle on what kind of car they drove but agreed on abortion, gay marriage, exposing government secrets and the wisdom of low taxes. Where did we go wrong?
Yet one more reason that I despise Ralph Nader, well actually the original reason, was that in an age before the Internet could have refuted him, he succeeded in killing one of the most technologically-innovative cars the U.S. had produced since World War II -- the Corvair.
