My Dad’s Cars – In My Beginning, There Was a ’58 Ford… And Then A ’68 Nova

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– Posted on January 18, 2025

’58 Ford Custom 300 photo by Stephen Pellegrino.

My name is Rafael Fabius,  I live in Uruguay, a small country wedged between Argentina and Brazil; a place a little bit off the usual beaten path of the general Curbivores. Still, I often see CC pics of cars taken in my country that may seem odd to first-world eyes. Curbivore sightings I’m always happy to see.

My earliest memory dates from June 1969, when my grandparents handed me as a gift a beautiful blue ’58 two-door patrol Ford Custom 300 with lights and all. Well, it looked beautiful to me. It was pure plastic, no windows, just the shade-in dies. But the important thing was that, for me, it was exactly the same as Dad’s car –bar the color, the doors, and the generally crappy quality of the model which didn’t allow for any details.

’58 Ford Custom 300 photo from the Cohort by tbm3fan.

In Uruguay, as in many other places in Latin America, larger cars used to be more expensive to buy and operate; gas was more costly and there were many taxes in the 1960s and later. Imports were a huge expenditure of hard currency, so countries began looking for ways to improve their trade balance and banned car imports for the general public, replacing them with local production.  In larger countries like Brazil and Argentina, auto manufacturing eventually evolved into a full-fledged industry. In Uruguay, because of our small size, the industry never developed beyond the assembly of CKD, with local factories providing glass, upholstery, sometimes paint, tires, and trim. But I digress; this info will be relevant for several future installments.

1958 Ford Custom 300 image from Wikipedia. 

Back to the Ford, Dad’s car. It was a ’58 Custom 300 sedan. Black on black on black on black on….well, you get the idea. A complete stripper, save for the anodized aluminum insert on the sides of the rear doors (which I have read was an option), with power steering, and automatic. Of course, it had a 223 six and dog dishes. Dad missed his 52 Mainline V8 Overdrive, but that was a flathead. I don’t think he was missing anything.

I remember my family piling into that Ford for vacations and excursions. Mom and Dad would load that Ford; probably the car most used for vacations and excursions in our family’s history. Mom and Dad would bring my grandparents, my two older brothers (10 and 8, more or less), and the baby (yours truly) with a prodigious volume of food, a picnic table, a tablecloth, two bicycles for the kids, and drive to a park that was not too far away but that seemed to be an untouched wilderness. There we would have corned beef on rye with pickles, mustard, vegetables, and schnitzels, either as a sandwich on white bread or just for the plates, smoked white fish, and schmaltz (greasy) herring. The drink would inevitably be cold tea. My grandma would prepare her Honig Lekaj (honey cake) and her apple cake (My parents and all my grandparents were Jewish Lithuanian immigrants, the food reflected this, and still does).

We’d meet my uncles, aunts, and cousins there. Of course, those relatives were much more rational and used to drive a VW Bus when their business required loading. I always wondered why their cars had the shift lever in the wrong place, which for some reason my Dad seemed to not like. That picnic place is now a densely populated and very expensive neighborhood with houses and high rises, with BMW and Porsche dealerships. But at the time, Dad found his Sundays there as a great place to escape from his full week as a cardiologist.

Ford in 1958. Ad from Argentina. 

As said above, cars in Uruguay were very expensive, and larger cars, even more so. Therefore, a Custom 300 was an impressive car, never mind that it was no Fairlane. Dad loved American cars, with the belief (quite true at the time) that they were safer, more agile (not true), and more comfortable (absolutely) than the typical European mid-sized car available within the same price range. For example, he could have gotten (this was in 1963) a brand-new Beetle for less, a brand-new Fiat 1500 sedan for about the same price, or an Alfa Giulietta 1300 for a bit more.

By 1971 the Ford was painted over rust, and the engine was smoking badly. Time for a change, he had owned the Ford for 8 years. I  don’t know how much he got at trade-in time for the vehicle, but the car that came in its place is associated in my head with a wonderful childhood and early teenage years.

It had to be American, no question about it. As I told you above, Dad liked big engines in big cars. Candidates were a ’66 Impala SS 396 with a four on the floor my brothers went bonkers about until they opened the hood and oil was dripping… from the hood, not just beneath the engine. There was a ’67 Pontiac Grand Prix, which Dad liked a lot. That is until he remembered his parking space at our building was tight. He had the seller come over (Montevideo being a small city) and tried to park the Grand Prix in the spot. The space through which the car had to fit had perhaps an inch on each side.

After some other similar encounters, a friend of his who was into cars came over with an offer. A brand-new BMW 2002. Everybody knows how a 2002 looks and is, and Dad liked it a lot, even if not being American.  It was small but had a great engine, and he didn’t give a damn about heavy steering. Then again, he had two as yet unlicensed teens at home. The driving age here is 18, and my oldest brother was only one year away from getting his license. Dad wisely decided a fast car wasn’t the best family choice at the time, and continued looking.

And then, it appeared. An acquaintance who sold cars called to say he had a Chevy Nova with less than 40K km. Dad told him: “I don’t like Novas, they look like a shoebox”. The seller said: “You haven’t seen a ’68, have you?” “Well, I don’t know…”

Said ’68 Nova had entered the country as a diplomat car; for the USSR embassy! Talk about irony.

Dad and my brothers went to see it, liked it, and brought it home. The ’58 Ford was taken as a down payment, and would shortly appear again near our home driven by a man who shortly thereafter became one of the most famous comedians in our nation and Argentina. The comedian most likely didn’t keep the car for more than a couple of years and if I had to bet, the Ford was probably worked into his comedy routine.

The Nova fit into our garage much easier than the Grand Prix. The Nova had an optional engine, a 230, three on the tree –let’s get there faster. It was a Nova 113 with only the following options: Power brakes, Soft Ray tinted glass all around, AM Radio, no decor options, dog dishes on painted wheels and manual steering. Plus that amazing GM style that you would recognize anywhere, even as a sedan. The brochure picture above with a Nova turning from E 61 St towards 5th Ave in Manhattan seems a little over the top, unless it was a serviceman for some of the buildings.

That car in the photo has an optional engine, as can be seen by a tiny number in front of the front side light (amber color, just for 68). The 4 cylinders and 230s, lacked this. The pictured car probably has the Custom Decor option, with full wheel covers, chrome-covered rocker panels, chrome molding in the mid-body that ran the length of the car, and chrome-covered windowsills. It also has a trim piece between the rear lights. Ours had nothing of the sort, but it was the same color, teal. I guess that’s when my lifelong love of the color began.

That beautiful teal color didn’t last, since it lost its shine quite quickly. One day my brother decided that we should take the issue into our own hands and polish the car. He brought his Black and Decker polisher and gave me, in his most gracious way, some paste and a rag. We spent a whole summer afternoon and we only got about a fifth of the upper part of a front fender to shine a little bit. Then we both decided this was a job for a professional (I was 13, he was 21).

There were very few 1968 Novas in Uruguay at the time. And there were some Argentinian Chevys, about which much has been written, though they weren’t called Novas over there. Let’s talk about those a little bit.

1970 Argentinian Chevrolet Chevy Sedan (Test del ayer)

Even if you can’t read Spanish, you can find at the above link some pictures of the Argentinian 1970 Chevy Sedan (no Nova there), which could be mistaken for a 1968 American model.

Of course, most or all metal panels are the same and there weren’t too many differences, early on. Some would accrue as the years advanced. The ’68 dashboard would remain the same until 1978 when GMA left Argentina. Other items that remained unchanged throughout its run were the ignition switch, the flasher switch horizontal on the right side of the steering column, and the HV panel on the left (Items that would be updated in US versions). The lights, front turn signals, and backlights would remain unchanged throughout production too.

What did change in pattern were side markers –some had a light, some did not, some were larger, and some smaller. In the place of the front side marker, the first Argentinian Chevy carried the engine size, no light. Later they would add the light, though most of the time they would carry lower-cost reflectors. As no V8 would ever be offered in Argentina, the only engine sizes were 230 and 250. Though initially in Argentina the car came only with a three on the tree, it soon changed when an automatic became available, with a steering column selector. Also, a four-speed manual was added to the options with floor floor-mounted lever.

There was a luxury sports model called the SuperSport, which was really similar in looks to a Nova SS, save for the chance of having it in 4 door configuration:

Something interesting was that power brakes with front discs were installed very early in the production run. There was no power steering until 1978 and no factory air conditioning, only dealer-installed units. No power windows, ever, and there were several trim lines, including plain ones for taxis.

Let’s return to my brother. The thing is, he was working for a guy who had a side business restoring and exporting antique cars. Uruguay had quite an interesting and diverse fleet of them at the time, as expensive cars were imported one by one in the 20s and 30s. Examples around the nation were a Cadillac V16, (one), a Cord L29, several 810s, and a Pierce.

So, my brother comes over to Dad and says, “We should have the Chevy sandblasted, it’s already showing rust on the sides”. Dad laughed out loud at the idea. However, a few days later the 230 began to drink more than its daily quota of premium, after having decided oil was quite a nice dressing. By the quart. Since the car was not that old, Dad had the engine rebuilt by his lifelong mechanic. When the car came back from the shop I ran to hear how the engine sounded. There were odd sounds I can still recall almost fifty years later.

I said: “Hey, isn’t it supposed to sound like new? Something’s weird here…”

Well, the ’68 Chevy was put into daily service again, only to keep consuming oil in alarming quantities. By that time my older brother became CPA for the largest GM dealer in Montevideo and took the car to the official shop. He told them: “The engine has 20K km on it, what’s wrong? It’s been rebuilt!”

A couple of days later, with the engine dismounted, the GM mechanic called and said: “You said the engine was overhauled? It’s been machined wrong. This engine is worse than bad. It’s deader than roadkill”.

So a family meeting was called to decide what to do (I was present but don’t think my vote was taken into account). I was ecstatic about getting a new car, which of course I  wouldn’t drive because of my age, but Dad began to look for a replacement. Little did any of us know what the future would bring. Some deeply cherished automobile values would shortly be shattered.

 

Related CC reading:

Curbside Classic: 1970 Chevrolet Nova – Have It Your Way

Curbside Classic: 1969 Plain White Chevrolet Nova – Building a Barer Way To See The USA

Curbside Classic: 1968 Chevrolet Nova 4-Door – 6 Cyl. Pride