Not surprisingly considering who, on my MacBook desktop is a picture of a 1939 Pontiac silver streak sedan, a car, cars, I well remember on the road, and around the neighborhood, and on Harrison Avenue downtown, on Beach Drive between PC and StAndrews and Highway 98 between here and Pensacola in those years.
For whatever reason that escapes but also not surprising, this morning I felt inclined to root out a same-year Dodge sedan, all these things are instantly available in today’s magical age of electronics. Two of many automobile websites I browse show car brochures that go well back in the industry’s history, one to 1930, another basically to whenever a make started or whenever the website owner could collect a brochure, Fords from 1903 for example,
Studebaker from 1903, Packards from 1904, Oldsmobile from 1903 including an Olds delivery car.
But going for Dodge this morning not unlikely because we had a new 1948 Dodge sedan that was in the family ten years, including Linda and I had it as our first car and the year before that in Gainesville at UnivFlorida my senior year, I went for a 1939 Dodge picture,
then clicked back year by year, 1938, 1937, cars I remember and loved, 1936, still on the road my growing up years.
And I recall standing on the runningboard of the Sheffield's blue Dodge sedan two doors down, to ride up the driveway. On the 1936 Dodge page was an ad about a man who said he’d put 281,000 miles on his Dodge, which he bought in 1920,
so, intrigued, I went to the 1920 Dodge brochures to see what it likely looked like. Not surprising at least to me as a looker over the years, there was the Dodge Brothers car with the prominently high front headlamps that gave the car a bit of a bug-eyed look. And I thought Mr Capton probably had a touring car, so I went to that model page in the brochure - - likely his car
Cars are interesting and fun to me, have been throughout my life, may always be. I’m thinking of the Packard sedan with a trunk-rack that overtook and passed us one dark night on the totally deserted, bleak and empty two-lane Highway 98 through the SJPC pine woods between Destin and Philips Inlet as we were driving home from visiting the grandparents in Pensacola.
Watching the time now, and leaving to meet Robert for our walk. Maybe breakfast, our Friday custom.
Maybe Crawdad's for lunch to see if they have mullet today.