DAD’S ’56

In the mid-70s, my Dad bought a 1955 Chevrolet pickup – stock, small back window, with an inline 6, floor starter, and a 3 on the tree. Other than giving it a white paint job and some polished slotted aluminum rims, the truck was as GM made it. He loved that truck. To Dad, it was just a good ol’ daily driver. I was lucky enough to get to drive it to high school. I can still smell the cigar and see him driving with his arm out the window and a cold one between his legs.

Dad drove a tanker truck for ARCO, and in 1985, his ‘55 was stolen out of the truck yard. Look up the definition of sad in the dictionary, and you’ll see a photo of dad after his truck was gone. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he’d never see that truck again. Shortly after that, Mom and Dad announced that they would be retiring as soon as their house sold and relocate to the Pacific Northwest. It was at that time I got the big idea of replacing his ‘55 truck and giving it to him as a retirement gift. Mom was all about that and offered to help fund the project. With a plan set, I covertly picked Dad’s brain about a replacement truck – are you going to get another truck, what would you do differently, etc., etc. He told me that he would like a V8, automatic transmission, and a big back window. At that point in my life, I had no idea what it would take to build/restore an old truck. I quickly learned a lot.

I never did find a ‘55 Chevrolet truck, but I did find a good ‘56 Chevrolet truck with a big back window. I got some help with the paint and bodywork, but I did everything else. Talk about a learning curve. In the 2 and a half years it took to restore the ‘56, Dad was getting the bug to get another truck. Mom called me and told me that she couldn’t stop him from just going out and buying another truck. I told Mom that I was a number of months away from having it done. I suggested that they come for a visit, and I’ll show him his truck in the under-construction state. At that time, I didn’t have a garage and was building DAD’S ‘56 in a storage locker.

The big reveal day came. I loaded up Mom, Dad, and the wife in the car and handed Dad a blindfold. He had no idea what was going on and what we were doing. We arrived at the storage locker. I had Dad sit tight while I got out the big VHS camcorder and put it on a tripod. Everyone got out of the car, with Mom helping Dad because of the blindfold. Dad was sharp; when I opened the roll-up door, he made the comment, “We must be at a storage place.” Not a word was said by the rest of us. I let off the handbrake, pushed the truck out into the sunlight, and pulled the handbrake. Dad knew that sound and said so. The truck was complete from the back of the cab forward, so at least it looked like a whole truck. I told Dad to remove the blindfold.

Dad looked at the truck, and without a word, he knew what I had done for him. That was the first and only time I saw my Father cry. Needless to say, he was over the moon happy.

It was months after the reveal when Dad called me to tell me he had terminal cancer. What a crushing blow. He told me to just keep the truck and enjoy it as he would have. I told him, “If you don’t drive this truck, it won’t have any real meaning to me. I’ll sell it and pay back Mom.” In true Dad fashion, he and Mom were back within two weeks. Dad did get to drive his truck, and you couldn’t have knocked the smile off his face with a baseball bat. On our drive, he went through a very well-known speed trap, rolling about 15 over the limit. I told him he should slow down because this is a speed trap. He leaned over to me, and in a raspy voice, he tells me, “Fuck ‘em! What are they gonna do? Give me a ticket?!” And he put his foot to the floor and let the V8 rip. We lost him shortly after that.

A few years later, I’m having kids of my own. My son was born in 1992. His first ride in a vehicle was in DAD’S ‘56, going home from the hospital.

Time passes, and things wear out. It was time to freshen up DAD’S ‘56. I updated a few things from the white truck I gave him to the copper and cream truck you see here. I’m sure he would approve.