Fender Skirts


Fender Skirts

One of my all-time favorite cars, one of my many, many all-time favorites, was the 1953 Chevrolet. It came to mind a couple days ago when a friend sent me an email about fender skirts. The '53 Chevy was the second generation post-war Chevrolet, the 1946, 47, 48 having been a continuation of the pre-war 1942 Chevy: 


and the 1949, 50, 51, 52 having been the first complete redesign and restyle after WW2. 


The 1953, 54 Chevrolet was new and elegant. It never garnered the classic status of the golden age 1955, 56, 57 trio:  


But at least the 1953-54 was on the market two years, not just a single year like the enormous 1958 Chevy that introduced the Impala series:


Why General Motors did that one year production of such a beautiful car was beyond me then and still is today.

And the '53 was well before the 1959 Chevy with its outrageous fins


that created the eyebrow taillights.


But the 1953, 54 was a good looking car and a nice size. Not too big for the day, nor too small. A very pleasant shape. And its trim line was interesting. Top of the line Bel Air had distinctive side trim. And above all it had fender skirts, the ultimate in classy in those days. 



The mid-line 210 series had a strip of chrome on the side but no fender skirts. My aunt Evalyn had a '53 series 210 sedan:


The base 150 series was the plain jane, its only side trim being the stone guard on the front edge of the rear fender. Fender skirts? Certainly not, but you still saw those ubiquitous whitesidewall tires: 



The 210 series also included a convertible,  


but it wasn’t as flashy and didn’t sell as well as the Bel Air convertible:


Seems to me the 210 convertible was dropped for 1954, not having sold well in '53.

Summer 1955 or '56, a used car dealer on West 6th Street here in Panama City had a 1953 Chevy 210 convertible for sale, bright red with a white top and three-speed standard transmission (3-on-the-tree). I stopped and looked longingly at the car, and my mother told me my father had mentioned getting it for me. My parents’ cars at the time being the 1948 Dodge sedan that later was given to me, and the 1949 Plymouth station wagon, I told mama that I wasn’t about to drive a car newer and better than their cars, so the matter was dropped. 

In retrospect, it turned out to have been my one chance in life to own a red convertible. December 1957 after Linda and I were married, home from Rhode Island on Navy leave and looking to replace the 1948 Dodge that was turning into reliability issues for us, my father’s friend Joe Parrott was working at Cook Ford and driving his demo, a long, sleek, bright red with white top 1957 Ford Fairlane 500 convertible with continental kit spare tire and wire wheels. 


Joe offered it for $2,400 as I recall, and I drove it to Linda’s parents’ home at then-518 Bunkers Cove Road (brick house east of the Edwards that the Clemons later bought from Linda’s parents). Linda’s mother came out, took one look at the convertible, and started ranting about dangerous convertibles and her pregnant daughter. We ended up with a Ford bought from Joe Parrott, but it was a blue and white tudor sedan.

Will you have a banana split with three scoops, chocolate, strawberry and vanilla and whipped cream with a cherry? Or plain vanilla? We had a plain vanilla cone, one scoop.

When I wanted a car in April 2011, I went to buy a red convertible to celebrate my successful return from Cleveland Clinic, but Cramer GM where I buy my cars didn’t have a red convertible. In fact, they didn’t have a convertible at all except a hundred-plus-thousand-dollar Corvette, so I chose a Buick sedan. It’s nice but it’s not red and the top doesn’t go down. 

Maybe I’ll get my red convertible in the next life. In heaven. Or more likely on a cold day in hell.

TW

Thanks, Norm!!