crashum7

One of most favorite pastimes during the warm months in Michigan (yes, we do have those!) is driving my ’51 Ford Custom 4-door. This year I have not been able to do so since I am presently installing a new engine and transmission, but the two previous years when I still had the flathead in it, I drove the car almost daily once I got home from work, and on weekends.

I live in the metro Detroit area, and being that this is the Motor City, old cars and street rods are extremely popular, and gaining more popularity every year. During the spring and summer, and even into early fall, you can find a car show or cruise somewhere in the area every night.

One of the places I like to hang out at is Eddies. It is an old A&W type restaurant, with waitresses on roller skates coming to the cars to take and bring orders, with the trays that clip on your window. This is a favorite gathering place for many owners of custom or antique cars.

I remember one summer evening last year; I went to Eddies with a friend of mine after going to one of the local car shows. We were in my ’51, and were enjoying cruising around and getting a lot of “thumbs-up” and smiles from the cars and people we passed, even though the car was in primer, and by no means a showpiece.

We were parked at Eddies, having a burger and Coke, when an couple who appeared to be in their late 70’s pulled up next to us in a Crown Vic. The couple came over to us, and began talking, and it turns out that a car identical to mine (same color minus the primer) was the first car they owned when they got married (you do not see many 4-door ’51 Fords around). They were looking it up and down, and you could tell they were reminiscing of the old days. The man asked if it was ok for them to sit in the car, so my friend and I slid out, and he and his wife slid into the car. The smiles they had on their faces was priceless – you could see they were thinking of the old days as he sat behind the wheel with his arm around his wife.

We talked to them for quite some time, and he was asking questions about how I was going to restore it, how did I like the flathead, and giving me tips on how to do certain things to the Ford to keep it on the road. We all were having a good time, and after I while I asked if he would like to take it for a spin. I though he was going to have a stroke, he was so excited, jumping around like a kid on Christmas day. His wife was doubtful, telling him that he shouldn’t, his reflexes and sight were not too good, it was a long time since he had driven a standard, ect. I assured her that it would be fine, so they both hopped in, beaming.

When he first began to pull out, he the car bucked as the tried to shift. Soon he was pulling out, shifting into second and grinning ear to ear. They drove off, and returned about 10 minutes later, the husband executing a perfect turn into the lot and backing into the a parking space.

They both came out of the car, and he was so full of smiles and energy that my friend and I were amazed it was the same guy we had met a short time ago. His wife was smiling too, and came over to me and took my hand. With tears in her eyes, she thanked me, and told me that we had made him happier and more alive than she had seen in years. She said as they drove, they remembered their younger days, and for a brief time the car had “transported” them back in time, reliving feelings that they had long since forgotten.

We talked for a bit longer, and as my friend and I drove off, the couple waved to us, holding hands like newlyweds, both smiling. So, for a time, even though it was a beat up shadow of its former self, my ’51 had become a time machine the couple.

We ran into them once more later that summer while cruising in the ’51. My family was with me, and we were out getting ice cream when the couple came up to me, thanking me again for the opportunity to ride in the car. I am glad that I was able, through my ’51, to bring some joy into someone’s life.

I am itching to get the car back on the road by this coming spring, and am looking forward to meeting more people who remember the “good old days” when big American cars such as my ’51 ruled the road during a much simpler time.