(first posted 5/1/2016) When I turned 16 1n 1960, my mother took that afternoon off from her real estate job and waited for me to come running home from the school bus stop. We got into her 1957 Chrysler Windsor and she drove me to the NYDMV office in Garden City. After the necessary processes I walked out of the DMV with a New York State learner’s permit, unlocked the passenger door for my mother, got into the driver’s seat, adjusted the seat and mirrors, and drove home.
This was the beginning of my real life. Driving – legally – on public roads. No more back and forth runs in the family driveway and no more driving slowly around the parking lot of the Freeport Yacht Club when no one else was watching.
I had been saving up money for the time when I could buy a car doing odd jobs like mowing lawns, weeding gardens, paper routes, shoveling snow in the Winter, scrubbing boat hulls in the Summer, and baby sitting. Yes, baby sitting. It was good money and easy indoor work, and all I could eat from the fridge.
In 1960, 100 dollars could buy a reasonable vehicle if you weren’t fussy. I wasn’t too fussy, but I didn’t find anything that struck me the way I wanted to be struck. And, after selling my small boat and outboard motor, I had 300 dollars to buy a car.
One evening in late fall of 1960 I was walking along the dock in Freeport Long Island when it happened; I was struck. It was love at first sight. A pale yellow 1953 Chrysler Windsor Deluxe convertible.
The car in the photos is from the Internet but it is the same make, model, and color as my first COAL. Only the V on the trunk is wrong. The pictured car is a Windsor flat head six as was mine. Someone probably replaced the trunk lid with one from a V8 model.
The top was down and it had a ”for Sale” sign on the raised rear windows.
$300 dollars.
This was fate. My heart sped up with excitement. We were meant to be together. What could possibly go wrong?
After waiting for the owner to take delivery on a new red Triumph TR3 (which he let me drive), getting insurance, and license plates, and paying out the 300 bucks (one does not negotiate when love is involved), she was mine.
Chrysler Corporation was not famous in the post war years for styling and design. Their cars were often called tall, bulky, solid, and a bit stodgy. As CC’er jpcavanaugh wrote in 2009, Chrysler’s president and later Board Chairman K.T. Keller was quoted as saying “We build cars to sit in, not to pee over”.
Indeed, most Chrysler products of that era were stodgy. Except for mine. Mine was a sleek yellow beauty (apologies to Click and Clack of Car Talk). Perhaps not really sleek, and probably more cream than yellow after years of sitting in the paint fading sun, and some say beauty was only in the eyes of the beholder. But 60 years after that first meeting, I still feel a strange time bending sensation when I look at these pictures.
The car had a 119 hp flat head six. For years Chrysler used the flat head design in their lower status models like the Windsor. Starting in 1955, they went to all OHV V8s in the Chrysler brand cars.
This beauty had a M-6 Presto-Matic semi-automatic transmission. Chrysler’s semi-automatics were attempts to lure buyers who didn’t want to manually shift gears. But, the first thing you saw when opening the driver’s door was a clutch pedal, labeled “Safety Clutch”.
Chrysler products with the semi-automatic transmission did not sell well and I suspect the presence of a clutch (safety or not) had a lot to do with it. Or maybe it was the convoluted instructions of how to drive with a semi-automatic.
The shift lever looked like a standard three on a tree but it was really four on the tree, sort of. The gear lever would not go into what would normally be first gear. Reverse was back and up (that makes sense) and Low 1 and Low 2 were forward and up, while High 3 and High 4 were forward and down.
For a better description of the Chrysler M-6 semi-automatic, see http://www.allpar.com/mopar/m6.html.
My 53 Chrysler did not have a shift quadrant so it looked like a normal three-on-a-tree manual. Earlier models did have a shift quadrant showing the odd positions of “R Lo Nu Dr”. This pattern probably confused potential Chrysler customers even more than the presence of the “Safety Clutch” and ultimately turned them into GM buyers.
Later semi-automatic quadrant designs looked a bit more modern, if not exactly logical with a “R L N D” pattern, as on this 1953 Chrysler Imperial, shot by JP Cavanaugh..
The clutch was needed whenever you moved the shift lever. But, as long as you kept it in High, you could drive all day, stopping and starting and never touch the clutch. That’s because in front of the clutch and behind the engine was a fluid connector. Think torque converter with minimal torque conversion, just no direct physical connection between the engine and the clutch. That’s why it never stalled.
Note: Earlier Chrysler product fluid drives had no torque conversion at all. By 1953 there was some – just not much.
To drive from an idling position in neutral, floor the clutch and push the lever forward and down into High. Let up the clutch completely with the foot brake applied and the car would not stall; you were in High 3. Let go off the brake, step on the gas, and accelerate in High 3 to about 10 to 15 mph, release the gas completely, wait for a “clunk”, and then you are in High 4.
Stopping, or slowing down to below 10 mph, would cause the transmission to down shift into High 3 where the process started anew.
For more sprightly acceleration, you could access Low 1 and Low 2 by flooring the clutch and moving the lever up to where second would be in a three on a tree. Low 1 was a real stump puller and Low 2 was achieved by letting up on the gas and waiting for that clunk. Theoretically one can go through all four forward gears, but I found that using Low 1 and Low 2 usually resulted in a speed that brought forth High 4 when the lever was manually shifted. Starting in Low 1 and manually shifting into High usually brought forth High 3 and then the off-the-gas clunk into High 4.
I used the term “sprightly acceleration” above but that was relative to normal High 3 and High 4 operation. Old web documents say the flat head six cylinder Chrysler Windsor took 22.2 seconds to get to 60 mph. That was probably measured using H3 and H4 only. But even using the Low gears, flat head six cylinder Chryslers with the semi-automatic transmission were slow. In 1949 Tom McCahill, writing for Mechanix Illustrated, said that the 1949 Dodge with a semi-automatic transmission was a “dog”. A 1953 Chrysler convertible was even heavier than the 1949 Dodge, and probably slower.
A dog? Well, I love dogs, both then and now.
I never had any problems with that semi-automatic transmission. That’s more than I can say about a future 1995 Chrysler Eagle Vision TSi COAL.
Now that I had a car, I needed a better way to earn the funds to pay for its care and feeding. With my New York State working papers in hand I started working at Joseph’s Hamburgers on Sunrise Highway in Rockville Center at the rate of one dollar per hour (plus all the burgers, fries, and soda I could devour during my infrequent and very short breaks). The only rule we could not violate was that the rotisserie chicken pieces, fish cakes, and half pint containers of milk were off limits. The consequences of violating this rule were too awful to discuss.
I passed my driver’s license road test on the second try. I failed the first road test because I let the non-power assisted steering wheel of a 1953 Packard spin back between my fingers to top dead center after making a turn. Lesson learned, don’t be a smart-ass show off. Try number two was on a full power 1957 Chrysler with careful hand-over-hand wheel returns.
In late summer of 1960 I had a New York State junior driver’s license; that meant no driving at night. I also had a dollar an hour job and needed as many hours as possible to stay in the black. And as the new guy I got the worst hours, weekday and weekend nights. OK by me, I had a very quiet social life.
For the typical summer night shift, I drove the Chrysler to Joseph’s in the early evening, put on my white uniform and paper hat, and got to work. Closing time was around 2 A.M. and cleanup took about 2 hours – give or take. Then the night manager, Joseph’s son Andrew, would pile the crew into his 1959 Pontiac Bonneville four door flat top and take us to the 24 hour Pantry Dinner just down the block. When you have been eating triple nickel burgers all week, eggs over easy with home fries tasted like heaven.
When breakfast was done and the sun was just coming up, Andrew dropped me off at the now close burger shop, I got into the big yellow Chrysler, and drove home. Legally.
My sleek yellow beauty had a few issues.
As soon as I had it registered and tagged, I proudly invited two of my friends for a ride. I twisted the handle at the center of the top right above the windshield, climbed into the rear seat and unzipped the plastic rear window, got back into the front seat and turned the top’s switch to “down”. The big black top rose up and away from the windshield and folded itself neatly behind the rear seat.
That was the last time the top motor worked. Ever.
To get the top back up I had to drain the fluid from the top’s hydraulic system. This required crawling into the trunk, removing a panel, disconnecting the fluid lines from the pump, and catching the fluid in a can. I spilt about as much fluid into the front of the trunk as I recovered. In 1953, Chrysler used DOT3 brake fluid in their top hydraulic systems and brake fluid had a lot of alcohol in it. For the next four and a half years the car’s interior had a slowly fading aroma of brake fluid. Some wags said it smelled like stale cheap beer.
The Chrysler’s top was now manual. To put it down, I pushed the top up and back until gravity grabbed it. To put it up I stood in the middle of the back seat facing to the rear, grabbed both sides of the top, pulled up with a non-insignificant amount of effort, and then slowly fell backwards over the front seat while still holding onto the top. Then I pulled the top down onto the three spikes and locked it in place. Not so bad, just a bit embarrassing if anyone was watching.
Then the gas gauge gave out. One day it read one-third full after a fill up. I squeezed myself under the steering wheel with my legs in the air and used a flashlight to look at the back of the fuel gauge thinking maybe there was something easy to fix like a loose connection. Yea right. I did not see anything “user serviceable” but I did discover that this head-under-the-dash and feet-over-the-seat position really felt claustrophobic. It freaked me out and I scrambled out as quickly as I could to avoid panic.
The solution was simple, set the trip odometer to zero whenever I filled the tank and subsequent fill ups were based on trip miles. A car owner’s version of Occam’s razor.
I also discovered that the convertible top was not quite weather tight. After a windy snowstorm I opened the driver’s door to find a peaked drift of frozen white powder that ran from the base of the securely closed driver’s window to the bottom of the front passenger seat. I brushed it out so I could drive to school but much of it remained around the floor. The thick carpet underlining got wet, and while I used sunny days to try and dry it out, the interior smelled of mildew. And brake fluid.
So, my automotive object of love had a few problems, a non-operable top motor, a non-operable gas gauge, and a vulnerability to the elements of nature. Not so bad.
Also the plastic rear window was as opaque as a cheap plastic shower curtain. That was a safety issue. I would need to look into that.
And there was a slow oil leak at the main seal between the engine and the fluid drive. This was engine oil that could be easily monitored and replenished, so I wasn’t planning to do anything about it at that time.
And the big tube radio that slammed the battery gauge to negative whenever it was turned on and threatened to drain the 6 volt battery at every stop light (this car had a generator rather than an alternator) did not always turn off when I pushed the OFF button. So, turning off the radio required a careful hand shaded look in daylight to see if the dial light was truly off.
Again, not so bad.
Also, the car came with two old style bald snow tires on the rear. Not safe. I got four new bias ply black wall tires shortly after I bought the car and later spiffed them up with two fake wire wheel hubcaps that a friend discarded. I could only find two.
Also, rust bubbles started appear on the left rear fender just above the wheel. I would need to look into that.
But, love is blind and car love is deaf, dumb, and blind. This magnificent machine was all mine, warts and all.
The big yellow Chrysler would soldier on as my pride and joy ride for the next four and a half years. Despite her initial list of mechanical issues she always ran quietly and competently, never developed any additional problems, and never left me stranded as I finished high school and started as a commuting student at Adelphi University.
One memory involving this COAL does stand out. In the summer of 1962 after graduating from high school and getting ready for college I met a girl at our church. Judy was tall and slim and beautiful with big brown eyes and long brown hair. As Lord Byron might say (and he did): “She walked in beauty like the night”.
It was love at first sight; obviously not an unusual occurrence for me.
I asked her out for a date and she said yes. I wasn’t expecting that. Tall skinny guys with thick glasses, curly hair, and who smelled faintly of cheap hamburgers, mildew, and brake fluid did not have much success with girls. Think modern day geek but without the smarts.
I figured we’d go to a movie so I looked up what was playing and where and picked Judy up at her home. As we drove in the direction of the theater we discussed the big news of the week, the death of Marilyn Monroe. Newspapers said it was a suicide. Judy and I could not understand why someone so famous, so beautiful, and at the top of life’s ladder could choose to die. What was there about life that could make a person do such a thing.
A movie did not seem to be mood appropriate; I suggested we drive down to and along the ocean. Judy nodded. We turned onto Meadowbrook Parkway south towards Jones beach and then east onto Ocean parkway with the foaming ocean on the right and the bay on the left. Although it was summer it was a cool by the shore; the windows were rolled up, the heater was on low, and the only sound was the thump thump of the tires on the road’s concrete divider strips. We talked softly about life and tragedy and where we were going in the future and what we thought would happen there.
At Captree State Park, we got out of the car and watched the rolling surf. A cold damp salty air was blowing in from the ocean and we could feel the salt on our faces. We returned to the car, and headed back west on Ocean parkway, now with the ocean on the left and the bay on the right.
I realized Judy was sitting next to me, very close to me. That was a universal sign in those innocent teenage times and pre-seatbelt days of, what, something wonderful and warm and accepting. It’s hard to put into words just how serene and sharing that moment felt. We did not talk. We just sat close together in that big yellow Chrysler thinking to ourselves about life and loss as we listened to the tires on the pavement strips and Frank Ifield’s “I Remember You” on the AM radio turned so low it was barely audible.
Be back soon with the next COAL.
Great read. I may have gotten a little emotional towards the end. Looking forward to more!
+1 and soon please!
+2
+3
Beautiful
Great story. You brought me back to our era. (First jobs, first loved car, first date, girl sitting next to you in a bench seat car, driving by the water)
There is no modern equivalent to having a girl sit next to you in bench seat car. It is both intimate and public.
+1 … Yeah…remember bench seat cars!
Great story about a classic first car – it sounds like you got your money’s worth and more from it. There’s an old Chrysler Windsor story with me as well – my wife and I were driven off from our wedding to the reception hall in a ’54 Windsor Deluxe 4-door sedan. This was many years later (in 2000) and the car belonged to a friend of my wife’s sister. It was two-tone blue, and had less than 40,000 miles on it at the time. He’d bought the Windsor from an old widow who just wanted to get rid of it. She never liked her late husband’s old cars, and she didn’t want her adult children fighting over them so he got it for a good price. It was in showroom condition with the original interior, and it was a great experience for us to be driven in something besides the ubiquitous Lincoln Town Car.
Truly a terrific read! Great car and I sense Judy will be making a return appearance. I’m looking forward to more of these.
And the Chrysler? Amazing car. Having found a ’49 Chrysler Windsor coupe the other day, I’ve discovered there is something quite alluring about these cars, despite the transmission.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful story.
I was trying to follow the instructions on how to shift the semiautomatic. this is the second time. A few years ago I went to a classic car roll in and chatted with the owner of a DeSoto about it. I believe you are right. The instructions are so complicated that anybody who wants to simplify the driving is turned off by them. I have not driven one but I think one day of driving and it becomes second nature.
I’m pretty sure the transmission and its operation became second nature to those who operated them back in the day. My grandparents had a 1952 Dodge with some version of this transmission (Gyromatic, I think); my grandmother basically just left it in High and let the transmission shift back and forth. This car was long gone before I could drive but I do remember riding in the Dodge and it was not fast. Of course, back then most cars were not really fast so it wasn’t really an issue, certainly not for my grandmother.
The Chrysler semi-automatic transmission is one of the reasons that Desotos were so popular with taxi operators in the late forties/early fifties. For someone who was driving in traffic for 8/10/12 hours a day, not having to use the clutch was a major selling point. Of course a fully automatic transmission would have been even better but these were not available on lower priced makes until later.
Wonderful. Hope you will tell us what happened to the Chrysler, and to Judy.
That opaque plastic rear window–you would need to look into it so you could look out of it!
Seriously, nice story! You don’t mention Judy having a reaction to the car, one way or another. Sounds like she liked you for yourself.
This might be my favourite CC article so far. The car is so right, and now I feel like I can actually smell it!
I’ve always done the trip counter thing on motorbikes with no fuel gauge.
I wonder how many European cars had a trip counter in 1953? I seem to recall 1980s cars with no trip counter and certainly the three pre-1970 cars I’ve owned had none.
Plenty of European/British cars had trip odometers once you moved up from the basic models a trip meter was a standard fitting.
Thanks for a very evocative story. I felt I was there with you, although I know I wouldn’t have been very welcome. 🙂
Lots of heart and soul in this article. I’m still confused on the transmission operation procedure. Looking forward to part 2. Chrysler really had a well built product back in the day.
Not at all stodgy looking with the top down, more like a dignified but fun look to the old gal.
I think that the transmission had two automatic speeds, plus a low or high range which were manually selected, along with reverse. So one would normally start in high range, and the transmission would begin in automatic low gear. After picking up some speed, letting up on the gas pedal would allow the transmission to up shift automatically.
Starting in low range (or power range) would put you in a manual lower gear plus the automatic low gear, much lower. Then an auto upshift would put you in a higher low range gear. Then to get into high (or drive) range, you would have to push on the safety clutch before moving the gear shift lever to high.
My parents had a 53 Windsor with an automatic. I know very little about it as I was to young to drive then. What I remember is that it was troublesome with electric connections under the car. When it would not start, wires under the car needed jiggling, which would usually work.
I think that the best explanation for that transmission was that it was a manual 2 speed with an overdrive (that was always turned on). Anything that involved a real gear change needed a clutch. But once in a forward gear (either low or high), the overdrive would engage or disengage based on vehicle speed or gas pedal position.
That makes sense. The diagram does not show a planetary gear though, but the manual transmission would not have shifted automatically.
I googled the prestomatic and found that it was an under drive rather than overdrive. So the gear ratios are 1:1 in high gear, 1.75:1 in third gear (or the starting gear in high range). Low range would be a 2:1 manual gear which would give the lowest gear ratio of about 3.5:1, a second gear of about 2:1.
I don’t claim to be an expert on Chrysler products of the ‘50s, but IMO one of your statements needs some qualification: “Starting in 1955, they went to OHV designs in all engines.” This may have been true of Chrysler Corporation cars at the top of the food chain (DeSoto, Chrysler, Imperial). I believe the flathead 6 was available in Plymouths and Dodges until MY 1960, when the classic slant 6 was introduced.
Your article gives a possible answer to a question that had been in the back of my mind. In 1956 my father, who was definitely not a gearhead, got a ’53 Pontiac straight 8 with Hydra-Matic, his first car with automatic. He was very enthusiastic about the Hydra-Matic. I later came to wonder why he would have chosen a long-in-the-tooth flathead over a Chrysler Hemi. The Hydra-Matic could have been why. As a potential buyer, I’d be put off by the Prestomatic.
Do you remember what station the radio was tuned to on your date with Judy? I ask because I cut my radio teeth on WABC 770 AM out of NYC, starting in the summer of ’63—I’m a bit younger than you. But I wouldn’t think they would have played Frank Ifield.
Staxman, You are correct. Lower ChryCo models kept the flathead 6 until 1959. Wikipedia says this at:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chrysler_flathead_engine.
I suspect that Chrysler division cars all went to V8 power for 1955, which was why they were exclusively OHV. Chrysler didn’t have an OHV six for any division before the slant-6.
You’re right about the flatheads. In about 1980, one of the teachers at our high school brought a late ’50’s de Soto to our auto shop class. We opened the hood, and sure enough, there was a classic Chrysler flathead six in all its glory, albeit with dead leaves around the spark plug wires. It ran fine, but it must have been sitting for a while before he bought it.
Fabulous story! I enjoy your writing a lot (and not just the parts where you refer to my CC pieces. 🙂 ). I look forward to many more.
I have never driven one of the self-shifting Fluid Drive cars, but from what I have read, the Hemi V8 really transformed these cars. That Fluid-Torque transmission could apparently be worked in a way that could wring some real performance out of them. But I could imagine just how “relaxed” one would be with the flathead six.
Chrysler never did build a really high percentage of convertibles, so you had a real keeper there. Certainly a great first car. I came along about 15 years after you did, but based on the age of the car, my 67 Galaxie 500 convertible was pretty equivalent in age and condition to your Chrysler. And my top failed to go back up the first time as well, though mine turned out to be a loose wire under the hood.
Perfect! (MOFW)
i cant believe you missed an opportunity like that at the beach with judy and just drove off.
Beautifully written. Love your comment about the tube radio taking almost all the generator’s output – how we forget things like that.
I remember that trick with a non-functioning fuel gauge, and the awkwardness of trying to look behind a car’s dash to see if there was anything I could do to fix it. In my case it was an ’84 Suzuki Swift – talk about tight spaces!
Good to see you’re a dog lover too.
Its always a sender fault wire off or earthed holed float in the tank never the gauge itself.
Great story; what a captivating read! I like those ’53-54 Chryslers, even the base Windsor sedans look good to my eyes. They sure must’ve made them well, as in my 21 years here in New Mexico, I’ve seen quite a few of them around. A NY’er convertible would be on my Megamillions dream car list, Heck, I think any Chrysler of that vintage would be on it!
THANK YOU for this wonderful post ! .
I knew I’d like reading it because of the car but you really made this special .
More please .
-Nate
You are turning us into romantic old softies, hehe!
I really appreciate your comments. Thank you. Some have mentioned perhaps hearing more about Judy and the Chrysler.
Three months after our first date Judy (in the colloquial terms of the time) dumped me. That hurt a lot. Back in 1956 as a 12 year old I had a burst appendix and that pain was horrific and required immediate surgery. But by the next day the appendix pain was almost gone. Judy’s departure caused a different type of pain (more of a sad numbness) but it lasted a really long time. It was a good education.
In late 1966 on the walk home from the train station, I stopped by the Carpet showroom to say hello and asked about Meyer and how the Chrysler was running. Artie the sales man suddenly got busy and left the little office. Sylvia the bookkeeper said: “Oh Robert, Meyer died. He was killed in a car accident in New England; he and his wife were on vacation. His wife survived”. I asked what car he was driving; Meyer also had a 1964 Catalina Sedan and I was sure he would have been driving that much newer car with a working gas gauge on a trip that far. Silvia did not know but said “I’m sure it was his wife’s Pontiac”. I never found out what car they were in. Meyer was gone and that was, well that. But I didn’t want to think that I had even a remote hand in the events that led to this. There were no seat belts in the Chrysler.
Thank you for this .
Life isn’t fair and that’s why I always try to live each and every day as it’s my last .
I remember that first time being dumped by Doreen Stefanopolous…. hear rending at a young age .
-Nate
Alfred Lord Tennyson comes to mind: tis better to have loved and lost….
Just so ~
I always wonder about those who are too scared to get out and _TRY_ life .
.
It’s far too short to waste a minute of it .
.
-Nate
I don’t think the “dump” terminology is this context has ever gone away.
Beautiful car and beautiful story. I enjoyed it very much, thank you.
My older brother had a ’46 De Soto with what he called “Tip Toe” shift, but I was much too young to understand how it worked. Your description helped. I’d like to get hold of a Mopar so equipped and try to drive it, gently.
RLP, you had me hooked from the very beginning of this one. I’m not too much younger, so it’s easy to relate. There’s one picture of Joseph’s online that I *think* is yours; I hoped to find a picture of the Chrysler somewhere, somehow–with no luck. All I’ve got is one from an Adelphi parking lot from 1965-66; you’d sold the car by then, but there’s plenty of interesting commuter cars there. Let me know if you’d like to see it (Adelphi yearbooks are online now). Again, thanks for charming tale, well told!
Remember listening to that great Frank Ifield tune on WABC 770 A.M. in New York. Anyone recall WMGM 1050? They changed format in February of 1962. I was a regular listener until that time and this song would have likely been on their playlist. Still looking for some of WMGM’s jingles. My 1951 Dodge Wayfarer had Fluid Drive as well. The transmission was a regular 3 on the tree though. Upright oval pedals with no lettering or special instructions. Could be driven like a ordinary manual transmission except that you didn’t need to throw out the clutch when you came to a stop. You could use the clutch as normal if you wanted to. Did need to use it changing gears.
Aha! Your ’53 Chrysler was in fact a time machine! 🙂 There was nothing such as DOT-3-or-any-other-number brake fluid until ~1972. Prior to that, the spec would’ve been SAE J1703 (starting in 1967) and before that, including when that ’53 Chrysler was built, SAE 70R.
Occam’s Razor is the idea that the explanation [for whatever] that requires the fewest assumptions is most likely the correct one. I’m not seeing how that applies here. The problem could easily be on my end; I didn’t sleep enough last night. I wonder if you might mean Pascal’s Wager: the idea that because it’s impossible to prove or disprove that god exists, it is safer to bet that god exists. Or in your case, it was impossible to prove or disprove there was fuel in the tank, so it was safer to bet that there wasn’t.
I too, paid $300 for my first ride. It turned out to be ill advised, and only kept for a few short months, but I was eager to get into anything with 4 wheels when I was 16.
That shift pattern sounds more confusing than it probably was. I’m sure a few times round the block and you had it mastered.
Looking forward to the next installment.
When I was a little boy I received a 1953 Chrysler Windsor convertible for Christmas. It was a huge plastic toy, over a foot long and could be snapped together and pulled apart. I’ve got some of the parts but not the whole car as many pieces were lost. Have been looking for its origins via Google and found this link. It was made by Marx, as were so many of my great toys in the 50s. Apparently it was later reissued in slightly different form, made from the original molds – and can be found on eBay. But below is the original:
https://www.worthpoint.com/worthopedia/original-1953-issue-marx-fix-all-1927406878
Great to read your story again. Brought back memories of this much loved toy.
Mine was light blue. Had the L-head six. Same thing happened to mine. Remember having parts in my toy box for years. Also remember a red Cadillac of about the same vintage that had provision for adding “gasoline” and “coolant.”
Coming of age experiences can be so strong they influence the entire course of our lives. Yet as time passes, memories of those experiences slowly fade from our thoughts. I think that is one of the allures of these older cars. A teenager is likely never to have a more important possession than a first car.
Thinking of a first car takes you back to a wonderful time of life filled with new experiences and discoveries. A first car may not have been such a great machine, but the experiences we had in them. . . now that was something else entirely.
Thank you for sharing such a beautifully written memory
Growing up, we had a ’51 Dodge wagon with Gyromatic. I learned how to drive with that car. I remember driving it and listening to the thump. It was slow, but easy to drive.
It was also very well built, as with all Chryco cars of that era.
Same time period, I worked part-time at a shell station around the corner from where we lived. A lady brought in her ’53 Chrysler convertible, complaining about transmission problems. My boss, the owner, said it would be very expensive to fix and offered her a few hundred for it. (He was a real charmer, which enabled him to get away with his scams). He topped up the trans fluid and proceeded to use it himself to tow the Chris Craft boat he kept in one of the bays.
I know what you mean about feeling claustrophobic working under the dash, lying on your back with your feet up in the air. I could still do that for short periods back in the ’70’s when I was in my 20’s. In the 90’s I was in my Forties and I just couldn’t hack it. I would unbolt the Strato Bench seat in my Riviera and tilt it back against the rear seat cushion, propping it up with a length of 2×4. I had plenty of room to lie on my side across the front floor. Fast forward to the ’00’s and I would just pull the driver’s seat out of my ’70 Mustang! I am getting too old for this stuff. I really enjoyed your post, can’t wait to read more, Thanks.
@ Jose ;
I’m sure you’re not alone ~ I can’t do under dash works anymore, I wonder how many over 60 years old can….
The really sad thing about these old MoPars is : after 1965 or so , no one wanted them .
I remember lots of them being junked because they couldn’t be sold .
A shame as they were (IMO) beautiful and built like tanks, very trouble free if generally slow .
-Nate