Nash Metropolitan…we had a red/white one and we were a family of 5. Loved it.
1967 Pontiac Catalina bought from my grandparents. The only car I wish I still had.
Maybe we should create a “Friends of the Buick Special” sub-group. That was one uninspired car, but it was durable! And heavy. I still remember the heave it took to open the door. The early 50’s Buicks (late 40’s too) had a hood that opened left or right. You pulled a release under the dash on the side you wanted open. If you pulled both you could lift it off completely, but it weighed a ton. My 53 started by pushing the gas all the way to the floor, so it always started with a roar - very impressive.
Memory is a great thing, but I bet if I drove that thing today I would be scared to death that it wouldn’t stop or turn correctly. It really was a hulk, hurdling down the roads in borderline control. I remember rocketing down the western slope of Wolf Creek Pass toward Durango, Colorado, totally jazzed that I had made it over the top without incident, and realizing that there was no way I was in control of this pile of rusty Detroit iron.
57 Chevy 210 4dr sedan, “bought” it from my grandad for $100 on my 16th b-day. That was 1976. Still have it! 
My first car was a brand-new '71 Dodge Charger SE, with the “Canopy” roof. By the standards of the times, a really great-looking car–Electric blue, with black leather bucket seats. And, by almost any standards, it was a very reliable car!
I had graduated from college in June, 1969, and began my first full-time job in September, 1969. My father, who was very fiscally responsible, insisted that I drive his car to work for a couple of years at least, so that I could build up my finances and get on my feet in a financial sense. (Note: Back in those days, many kids, me included, actually followed the advice of their parents.) Because of his sage advice, I waited two years before buyng my own car, and as a result, I paid cash for that new Charger and for every car since then.
At the time, I somewhat resented his firm guidance, especially since I was not always able to use his car on weekends. However, as it turned out, he was 100% right. Kids who insist on getting their own car, and who wind up borrowing money to do so, usually take a much longer time to become financially stable than I did. Thanks Dad!
Incidentally, I traded the Charger in for a '74 Volvo, simply because the best gas mileage that the Charger was capable of was 15 mpg–and that was with the smallest V-8, the 318. We went through the first “gas crisis” in '74, so the Volvo seemed more practical. Little did I know that the Volvo would turn out to be the absolute worst piece of crap that I ever owned! And, it only got about 4 mpg more than the Charger. In retrospect, I should have held onto the Charger!
It’s hard to say what my first car was. The first car I drove on a normal basis was a 20 year old 1969 Dodge Dart my father bought for my brother and I to drive. When I moved out at the age of 19, my parents gave me a 1985 Buick Skyhawk. The first car I bought with my own money was a new 1998 Honda Civic, and I am still driving it.
A '58 Ford Thunderbird with a 352/automatic. It took me only a couple of weeks to learn how to loathe this car and thankfully I did not own it very long.
While driving down the road one day about 35 MPH I felt the rear end of the car sag suddenly acompanied by some odd noises. Pulling over and looking underneath I discovered the rear axle housing had split completely around just a couple of inches from the ring gear and resembled a squashed V.
A good excuse as any so away it went to be replaced by a '59 2 DR HT Chevy Impala that I wished I still had.
I learned to drive on a 52 Hillman Minx. In the US. My father loved that little thing, and so did I. Freedom! It had semaphore turn signals and the lowest first gear ever found in a car. Next was a 53 Buick Special, green and UGLY. Great radio. New cars are certainly better.
'61 Karman Ghia. (VW Beetle w/an Italian sports car body) My Dad knew a car salesman at Devon Motors VW, Philly suburbs. Dad lent me $$. Soon after, took a road trip up to Poughkeepsie, NY with my brother and a couple friends. Oil light come on in Poughkeepsie. I wanted to keep going, but everybody screamed, “Pull over and put some damn oil in it!”
I was broke so we passed the hat. Scraped up enough for a couple quarts. But I was too YOUNG DUMB AND STUBBORN to stop. Point it and punch it. You guessed it. Motor seized in filthy Philly. Can’t remember how we got it back home. Didn’t even have “shade tree mechanic” certification yet.
My Pop and some neighbors helped me put a junkyard engine in it. (One of his friends was Bert Everett. Name may ring a bell to any old timers who remember the Trans-Am racing series–late 60’s, with Mark Donohue and Parnelli Jones. Bert won in his class many times–under 2 liter–in a Porsche 911S; later an Alfa.)
So I was back in the saddle. Then my brother got rear ended in it at a red. Friend of my Dad’s gave me a Karman Ghia shell. We took both cars to Ben’s Auto Body in Doylestown, PA. Wrecked cars everywhere, front yard & back. No “chrome boys”. Ben didn’t care a hoot about insurance regs and stuff, either. He let me work on my car with his body guy. We cut the back off the shell and welded it to the front of my car. Five minutes of crimping butt connectors was all it took to completely reinstate the front to rear wiring!
“Friend” of mine borrowed the car after that and ran it out of oil again. Me and my Dad rented a U-haul 3 point hitch; hauled it all the way back from like Saugerties, NY. Then I got an $85 used motor from a yard, but “procrastination” let it sit all summer. One morning my younger brother came out bitching at me, “When the Hell you gonna put that damn thing in there, man?”
“Screw that thing. Freakin’ millstone around my neck!”
“Come on, we’ll get a case of beer first.”
That was enough to convince me. While we were getting everything set up my brother was carping and moaning: "Man, I’m the friggin’ SPARK PLUG around here. NOTHIN’ ever gets done without me pushin’! How true. He was the git-er-done guy; I was the teenage alcoholic, just about.
Few hours later it was in. Wouldn’t crank. I coasted down the dirt road off of our property in neutral at about 25, threw it in gear and engaged clutch. Rear wheels just skidded. Pistons had corroded to the cylinder walls, I guess. Junkyard guy wouldn’t budge. Gave it to a friend of mine in 1974. Maybe I should look him up and find out what ever happened to it.
My first car was a '65 Ford Fairlane . . turquiose and white, four-speed, 289, blew the engine and got a '69 Ford Torino. Both were nice cars, my best friend’s Dad was the local Ford dealer, we put lots of time into those cars. I think that I remember that my Fairlane HAD a windshield washer, a bag on the inner fender would accept fluid, you had to pump it onto the windshield. Talk about stuff you wished you would not have sold. Rocketman
First car was a '93 Volkswagen Fox (2 door). Bought it used in '96when I got to Ft. Campbell, KY, straight out of basic training. I was 18, this was before I cared or knew much about cars, and used and abused the hell outa that poor thing. Never gave it any TLC- too busy spending my spare time and money on girls and booze in Nashville. Say what you will about those ugly little boxes, they’re total chick magnets, and I took full advantage of the fold-down front seats.
Here’s my list of “repairs” on the Fox:
Door handle broke off, so I tied some 550 parachute cord to the interior mechanism, and ran it up through the window frame. To open the door, I’d yank on the cord.
Key broke off in the ignition, so I hotwired the accessory power to a house light switch, and the starter to a push-button. Used a screwdriver to get into the trunk.
Golfball hit and shattered the headlight when I drove by a golf course. I covered the light with a sheet of laminate from a map overlay, and taped it on w/ duct tape.
Eventually, after buying four used tires and not bothering to get them balanced, I had a blowout on the highway doing 80 mph. I did a couple 360’s in the road and tapped a guard rail, knocking the OTHER headlight loose. I wedged a coke bottle cap btwn the light and the bent metal to hold the light in place, and drove on.
Owned it for 5 yrs, put 180,000 miles on it, and don’t remember changing the oil in it once. Every so often, I’d throw a quart of Slick 50 in it and call it a day.
The thing NEVER left me stranded.
Eventually sold it in Juarez, MX for 300 bucks. Still kinda regret it.
Picture of my handywork:
http://tinypic.com/r/2z8uq6q/6
I couldn’t resist this. Here’s Niel Young with a song about…well, listen hard to the words.
First LEGAL car was a - 1966 Plymouth Belvedere II 361 Commando V8 4 door. $300 car.
Looked like a granny car but would burn the tires off of it when you put Ethyl in it.
Best time I ever had in it was going home after school and a couple of guys were having a big race with their new hot rod Chevy trucks on the highway after school. Everyone was on the sides of the road for the big race. I had to pull up behind them and wait for the big race to begin. After all the yelling and B.S. they took off, I waited a few seconds then took off behind them. They went a bit down the road with me patiently following and then I passed them both on the shoulder and went on down the road and home. The next day at school everyone looked at geekey ol Matt but didn’t say much as I had simply blown their freakin doors off with my crappy old granny Mopar.
I lived just off of a blacktop road and on warm days I loved to see how long a burnout I could do on the hot pavement. 1/4 mile wasn’t even trying hard to leave a big long strip of rubber on the road - went thru a lot of 5 and 10 dollar tires with that car. Years later I was bs’ing with an older friend of mine telling him about doing the burnouts and at the time he simply couldn’t understand who in hell had a car around that would do that kind of thing. He built engines and cars constantly and couldn’t come close to my burnouts!
My ol man saw me do it one day and told me later he had never seen any car do anything like that before.
AH! The good ol days.
The CLEVELAND PLAIN DEALER used to run a series called “My First Car”. My entry was the first one they published. I won’t re-tell the whole story, but it was a 1964 Austin Healey Sprite that I bought from a college friend who had just that week bought it from a Rambler dealer in Ashland Ohio. Bought it for $400. I drove it to my parents’ house in central Michigan, telling them the car was borrowed. Somehow my dad saw through that because he drove with me when I left, stopping at Belle Tire in Detroit for a new set of Dunlops. The next year we started racing the car in SCCA G Production.
1984 Red Fiero, 4 cyl auto with 36k miles bought in 1991 for $300, good deal, very dangerous car for first time driver. Invested thousands in repairs, paint and custom stuff, gave it away for $50 after front end collision. Passenger side rack pinion broke, tire turned inside in and spin out of control. Love the speed, style and looks but would not recommend to learn to drive with.
My mom had one the same color as yours in a drop top. I have photos at home of me sitting in it in my Air Force uniform.
74’ Cadillac Coupe deVille. Lots of rust. 500cid V8 torque monster that got 8 MPG city, 20 hwy. Indestructible: Someone rear ended me once in a Honda CVCC and I didn’t realize I’d been hit–I thought the engine had just missed on a cylinder. The Honda didn’t fare very well…
Your 1953 Buick had a straight 8 engine if it was a Special (the Super and Roadmaster had the newly introduced 322 cu inch V-8) but the valves were in the head (overhead valve) so it wasn’t a flathead where the valves were in the block. The valve in head engine was a Buick selling point from the 1930’s through the early 1950’s.
1961 buick le saber 4 door given to me by my grandfather
Wouldn’t matter what year: no Buick ever had valves in the block. All Buick motors have been “valve in head”, right from the beginning.