I grew up in smalltown Okla., the home of Oklahoma A&M College, later Oklahoma State University. Our house had a garage apartment for students and the whole neighborhood was home to students. One of the residents of an apartment behind our house retreived a '30 Model A Ford 2door sedan that a friend of his had abandoned at the lake west of town on Friday night of the end of the spring semester.. We helped him find someone with a pickup to pull it out of the mud. Once he got it home, realized that he had no interest in it. He offered it to me for $30 (I was 14 at the time and that was about what I could afford). With a little tinkering we got it running and found that it was driveable. I spent that summer of 1958 tuning it and doing some improvement. My mother sewed canvas covers for the seats. That was the only old car she ever worked on (I never properly thanked her). We rented a $3 a day light-weight spray-gun unit and I repainted it black in our driveway. It was completely original except for red 16" wheels and tires off a '40 Ford. It had chrome "Ford Delux" hubcaps and beauty rings.
My dad was a child of the great depression. He graduated for a small town high school in 1932. He never outgrew the depression and he hated everything about the 1930s. By the time WWII came around, he was married, had a child and was a full time college student, so he had no involvement with the war. He convinced my mother and then me that the Model A was not suitable to drive to high school for 3 years. I sold it to a classmate Allan and then I watched him for three years being the life of the party in "my" Model A. My dad and one of his old buddies found me a 1952 Plymouth 2 door sedan that I hated. That was when I quit listening to anything my dad ever said.