My aunt stopped by this morning and gave me a collection of papers that had belonged to my Mom. I don't know why it took her 37 years from my Mom's death to think to give them to me, but today she handed them over. Baptism certificates, report cards, Boy Scout membership card, etc. Two items made me break out in an ear-to-ear smile. Picture number one is from the local paper and shows me and friends getting stopped by the law when we were on our way to the swimming hole. Picture number two is the product of my being bored in 11th grade (1961-62) geometry class. The teacher couldn't see more than six feet, and we got away with murder in her class....I'm no artist, but I must have drawn thousands of these type of drawings....Mom kept one...bless her...
I wish my Mom would have saved even half the car and truck pictures I used to draw as a young'un Very Cool!!!!
That is awesome! I am sure that brought back a stream of memories. I had a similar experiance last year visiting my mom. I did not realize my parents saved so much of my old art that was packed away all these years.
That's really cool! Ya scofflaw... Gee, and all this time I thought your name WAS "adjustable johnsons", too... the truth comes out!
I was stunned to see what was in this windfall. Then I realized that we have done the same thing with our kids (grown-ups now...41 and 39). Time to give them each of their goody boxes, and not let them find them after we're gone.
I wasn't the driver, merely a passenger.....not to deny the Scofflaw charge..guilty on that count many times over... The owner/driver was my pal, and his father was actually the District Attorney. That car...think it was a '35 Chevy...had been in a fatal accident, and he bought it from the junkyard. It had a beautiful new rolled and pleated interior when he got it. Banged it back into shape, and away we went.
Any more 'vintage' art from your treasures! Please post some more of your art work, it looks like you had some real talent as a youngster.
So no floor board or top, and a two gallon can for a gas tank! And without a tag and safety sticker. Sounds like a rat rod to me.
Several of the people in that car had real hot rods, an Olds powered '39 Ford coupe, an Olds powered Model A Touring car, and I had a 1953 Chrysler powered '46 Ford coupe. We were all teenagers...high school kids, and we pretty much did it all ourselves. We knew a friendly old garage owner who did our welding, and advised us on getting our engines tuned up. He ran at the local dirt track, and I think he got a kick out of our enthusiasm. Honest Charley catalogs and "little books" were our reference material. We never thought of that old Chevy as anything more than a way to get us all from point a to point b. In my hometown in the late 50s and early 60s, plenty of folks were still using cars from the 30s and 40s as daily drivers, and used car lots were full of them. On that day, I think we had all met at the Dairy Queen, which was only a block away from where we got stopped. We all left our cars at DQ, and headed off to the "falls" in P's car. Our first stop was to have been "The Skeeter Hole," a bootlegger's joint down in the Leaf River swamp. The guy who ran that place didn't care how old the kid handing him money was. 'Scuse me for rambling, but long forgotten memories seem to be re-surfacing....
COOL! I have many of my sons car drawings around my apt. When they visit they get a BIG KICK out of seeing their old art. I’m a lucky guy.
Memorabilia like that can really open up a floodgate of memories. Not long ago I ran across a photo taken of a buddy of mine who had a '33 Desoto Cabriolet with a 283. Well, on seeing that picture, my mind raced back to the time he and I were dying to take a ride in that car after he got it running. So ... he got the battery all hooked up (perched on the fender near the starter with nothing but the cables holding it on), hot wired it, started it, and away we went. The thing that amuses me now when I think of it is that there was no interior whatsoever in that car ... none. He was driving while sitting on a 5 gallon bucket (that was slipping and sliding around) and I was back in the rumble seat area sitting on the bare metal floor with just my head sticking up high enough to see out. There was no divider between where I was and where he was. I could look straight up through the opening and see him trying to keep that "bucket seat" from sliding around while driving. And yeah ... he got on it too ... just to see what that 283 would do! Ah ... the blissful ignorance of youth! Thanks for sharing your newspaper clipping and that cool drawing.
"I'm no artist" I would stronly disagree with that statement. Same thing happened to me last summer. While visiting my parents, my mother brought out a box of my old schoolwork with various items from grade one to grade 12 (I'm 47) to give to me. My eight year old got a huge kick out of seeing what I had done when I was his age.
The Jalopy Journal
