Thread: Where were you in 1957? (Tulsa inspired!)

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Originally Posted by bluestang67

I was still drinking milk from a bottle I guess . Did they have bottles back in 56 and 57 .

That was so long ago they didn't even have cows yet! LOL!
(BTW, I can joke about it because I'm even older!)

Originally Posted by Mike P

I was 5 in 57. I do remember the vehicles we had, a 52 Plymouth Cranbrook and a 49 Dodge pickup (Dad farmed).

Dad through the rods in the Plymouth one day (probably in early 58) when he tried to get it unstuck on a muddy county road. The Dodge truck eventually rusted away.

So your love for MoPars was your dad's fault! :-)

.....in '57 I was 10 years old & living in N. Hollywood, Calif.... And my Dad had a '57 Plymouth, Plaza, 2 door w/ post {sedan?}, 318 w/ a single 4 barrel, 3 on the column & no radio {the business coupe???}.... One of my fondest memorys of my childhood was riding to the market with my Dad cuz he'd ALWAYS burn off as he turned the corner onto the main st. & THEN catch 2nd. gear!!!

Originally Posted by Big Tracks

24 years old and cruising around in my '56 Dodge D500 looking for 283's to demoralize.
Jim

I was 15, living in Dayton, Ohio, not too far from Ken (NTFDAY) and driving a '47 Dodge 4-dr. sedan that my dad had bought me for $100. He had lied at the motor vehicle bureau and told them I was 16 so I had my license. I had been reading Hot Rod magazines for a couple of years at that point and like many others in this thread, I was hooked on cars. Weekends I was mixing mortar and carrying brick for a group of brick masons that dad was friends with so I could help out by buying my own clothes and paying my own expenses. A year later, I would be bagging groceries for Liberal Super Market, a much more acceptable position in my mind over carrying hod for the brick masons. Looking back, I remember a quarter tip for carrying groceries to the car for the customers as being a big deal. (Hey, it bought a gallon of gas!)

Dad had just bought a brand new '57 Studebaker Golden Hawk with a McCulloch supercharger on it and I got to drive it on occasion. I used to keep a list of cars that I beat at the stoplight derbies. As I recall it, nobody ever beat me. What a beautiful car it was! Solid black with a red leather interior.

As far as the old Dodge, I took it to the local welding shop and had the guy heat the front coil springs to drop 'er into "dago" mode. It had a few dents and scrapes on it from previous owners, so I pounded them out as best I could and shot primer on them. The car was a medium green and now had flat grey and flat red primer spotted around her. I had been into pin-striping for a couple of years at that point, so I laid some designs on the trunk lid and hood. Too cool!! Lots of guys named their cars in those days and painted the name either on the lower front fenders or on the trunk. I carefully painted "Bouncing Beulah" on the bottom of each front fender because of the way I could get her bouncing up and down in second gear as a result of the (now stiffer) front springs. Several young ladies were converted in the back seat of that old heap.

We all had "DA" haircuts (Duck's A--) and pegged Levis. The tighter you could get them at the bottom of the pants leg, the cooler you were. Most of the time, we just wore a T-shirt with them, but when wearing a collared shirt, the collar had to be turned up in the back or you were "square". Most guys didn't wear a belt, but if you did, it had to be the real skinny kind or you were square. Pegged pants were rated by the circumference of the pants leg at the bottom. Number 9 pegs referred to the fact that the pants leg was 9" and you had to squirm like he** to get into them.

Nobody that I knew had any knowledge of drugs of any kind. We had all heard tales of the effects of marijuana, but nobody I knew had ever used any. There was no LSD, PCP, cocaine, crack or any other drugs of that type in those days. The worst it could get was to "shoot-up" heroin and we had only heard stories of that nightmare. Nobody I knew was ready to stick a needle in their arm. The way to get beer was to have an 18 year old buddy to purchase it for you and then it was only 3.2% alcohol, called "three-two" beer. In order to get the good 6% stuff, you had to be 21.