Once upon a time (Don't you love stories that start this way?), among the several holidays a year that a young man looked forward to was Christmas, his birthday, and the day the new cars were unveiled at the local dealer's showroom. Actually, since all the cars came out on different days, usually in September, it dulled the pain of going back to school. For those of you who remember, return with me now to those days of yesteryear. For those who weren't there, imagine being excited to see the new SUV or compact car (which generally looks identical to last year's) being unveiled to crowds of people at a car dealership. Hard to imagine, right? So listen while I try to tell how cool it was.
For the average kid of 10 to about 13 years of age, paying attention to the new cars of the late '40s and '50s was as natural as a budding interest in girls. Sports played a big part of life even before then, but suddenly, horsepower, glittering chrome, and looking cool were important. For me, I fed the fuel by avidly reading Hot Rod, Motor Trend, and all the "small" car books that were great for hiding inside a schoolbook. For years before the '55 came out, I had been reading the rumors about Chevy bringing out a V-8 engine that was going to set the car guys on edge. When the Corvette came out in 1953, I spent so much time in the showroom ogling those white fiberglass sports cars that I can still smell them. They were different from the other new cars. Maybe it was the plastic and vinyl, but I loved it! Since I rode to the showroom on a bicycle, the fact that the first Corvette had a six-cylinder motor wasn't all that important. What was great was how the salesmen treated me. Obviously I wasn't a buyer, but I knew how to act so they didn't chase me away unless there was a real buyer looking at the car. The coolest part of those early Corvettes, for me anyway, was the mesh screen over the headlights. I didn't know why they were there, but I loved the look.
Other than the Corvettes, though, there wasn't much to look at in a Chevy dealership. The passenger cars were nice, and I appreciate them much more now than I did then, but after spending some quality time in a new Corvette, I jumped on my bike and headed to the hot rod lot. In my hometown, there was a small car lot that had what I thought was a great selection of '32-40 Fords with flathead motors and bumpy cams. The sales guys on that lot weren't as friendly as the Chevy guys, so I just had to hang around and listen to the flat motors idle.
In 1954, things started getting serious. The "inside information," available only to the few million of us that read Motor Trend and Hot Rod, was fueling the fire of the new Chevy V-8 and the car that went with it. By late summer, the showrooms were emptied and later the windows were covered with white paper; we knew the time was drawing near for the new cars! Kids my age could wander innocently through the dealership and then make a mad dash inside the showroom to catch a sneak peek, but the sales force was way ahead of us. Usually there wasn't even a car there, and for the few days just before the big day, the new model was concealed with a car cover! Can you believe it?
We had an alternative plan, but it didn't cover Chevys. In the Los Angeles area, where I spent my youth, there was a giant GM assembly plant in a suburb named South Gate. They tried to keep the new models away from the fence and concealed, but as the inventory built up, we got our looks at the new models. This plant was known as the B-O-P plant, which stood for Buick, Olds, and Pontiac. I was definitely interested in those cars, but I wanted to see the Chevys! To do that, though, would have meant about a 50-mile trip to the other side of L.A., and that wasn't going to happen.
So now it was wait, and wait, and wait. Finally the appointed time arrives. Of course it would be a school day, but at 3:00 p.m., I ran with my brother and pals to the local Chevy dealer. All the showroom windows were clean and a turquoise and white two-door Bel Air hardtop reigned supreme inside. Even at that time of day, there was a crowd. The hood was up, the trunk was up, the doors were open, and I was in love! The wraparound windshield meant that Chevys had finally caught up with big brothers Buick, Olds, and Cadillac for styling. The interior was unlike any other Chevy so far. The inside and the outside matched in color and design. The dash reminded me of the Corvette, but the steering wheel was much more custom. The engine was trademark Chevy orange, a color I grew to know quite well over years of leaning over Chevy engines. I doubt if any of us on that day in 1954 suspected the impact that little V-8 would eventually have.
Then the crowd parted and I got my first unobstructed view of the grille, oh that '55 Chevy grille! I had no idea that it was inspired by Harley Earl's seeing Ferraris on a trip to Italy, and frankly, it didn't matter at the moment. If I could have, I would have bought one and hung it on my bedroom wall--that's how cool I thought it was. It was so different and so beautiful that I couldn't believe how much it was changed in 1956. Not that the '56 wasn't beautiful, I just wasn't over the '55 after only a year.
I was late getting home from school that day, but I didn't care. For many nights after that, I dreamed of owning that Bel Air with the V-8, the wide whitewall tires, and big hubcaps, maybe even with some mellow dual exhausts. Extravagant dreams for a kid my age, but simple in their own way; give me a '55 Chevy and I'm a happy guy. It would be some years later before I actually owned a '55, but it made me happy then, and it makes me happy now. I'm sure that the '55 Chevy has done that for many others, and will continue to do that for years to come. What a car!