Plymouth Parking

My brother is coming to town this weekend and I can’t wait. To prepare, I spent yesterday morning running errands. One of those errands brought me to San Francisco’s Forest Hill neighborhood which is, for all intents and purposes, a place that I rarely visit. I’m sure you already have an idea of where this is going.

In my travels, I drove up hills and then back down them. I passed colorful apartment buildings and rows of stout little garages. I studied entryways and admired obelisks. Then, as I pointed the truck towards home, I saw something unexpected: an old hot rod.

Yes, there on the side of the street sat a 1930 Plymouth PA sedan. It’s a car that I’ve seen once before, but that was only in passing. Back then, it had a set of American Racing five-spokes on all four corners—actually five, if you count the rear-mounted spare. I couldn’t help myself; I parked and wandered over for a closer look.

This old more-door has had quite the storied past. It’s complete and straight, but it has definitely spent a fair share of time outside. The gray primer is worn, showing hints of green, red and possibly gold paintjobs. I wonder which came first.

I spent the next few minutes poring over the details, like the oval fog lamp, juice brakes and the smallblock Chevy beneath the hood. Judging by the combination of body style and build style, my guess is that it was hot rodded around half a century ago. I snapped a handful of pictures and got moving.

On my walk back to my truck, I struck up a conversation with a gentleman who lived down the street. I asked about the Plymouth, and he said that his neighbor bought it a couple years ago. He and I talked old cars for a few minutes. I thanked him for his time and continued on my way.

***

As I prepared to write this week’s post, I had a feeling that there was more to this sedan’s story. A car like this doesn’t just pop up in San Francisco. “Wait a second!” I said to myself. “I think I know who owned this car.” Back when my roadster was broken down on the corner of Fulton and Masonic, a fellow H.A.M.B.er stopped by to lend a hand. His name was Vince. As we stood by my A, I asked him if he had any hot rods. He said he did: a 1930 Plymouth sedan that he drove daily but eventually sold. It took me until last night to connect the dots. This is Neglected Legacies’ old sedan!

With a quick search, I dug up the answers I was looking for.

“It’s a 1930 Plymouth built in the ’70s by Curley Ecker of Richmond, California,” Vince wrote in his intro back in the spring of 2009. “It’s got a 283 and a Powerglide—and American Mags. This car has been parked in his garage for the last 13 years, and he finally sold it.”

Old Car, New People by Vince Collins

There you have it, straight from the man who brought it back to life. It’s not every day you see vintage tin on the streets of San Francisco, but spotting this sedan made my day a little bit brighter.

—Joey Ukrop

 Note: Don’t worry, this column is not turning into Four-door Friday. Or maybe it is…