Today I Found a Treasure

This morning I was doing a “search” for something else in my computer and behold I found a hidden treasure!  For years I had searched many times over to see if I had a decent photo of my first car.  I had found only one photo and it was very poor.  But this morning this one accidentally popped up.  For years this picture has been hidden somewhere among thousands of files in my computer.  This was my Grandma Shanbeck’s car.  But she never drove it.  She told me that the first time she ever saw a car coming down the road, she was driving a buggy with her horse.  The horse panicked and took off across a field scaring her to death.  She said, “I hoped to never see one of those machines again!”  But in her later years she allowed her son, my Uncle Albert to purchase this one for her.  My Mom drove it everywhere for her… and us.

Here you see me at about 9 years old sitting on one of the two spare tires.  In those days you had to carry two spare tires since you experienced flats frequently.  My brother, Mel, 11 years older than I, is washing the windshield.  My sister, Carol, 9 years older than I, is perched on the left front fender.  Unfortunately my sisters, Joanne (2 years my superior) and Joyce (4 ½ years younger than I) are standing on the “running board” and are out of focus… but you get the idea.

Later when Grandma Shanbeck passed away, my mother inherited it.  We traveled many exciting miles in this wonderful car.  It took us to church for every service.  It knew the way by itself.  I remember Mom taking us somewhere downtown one day, when without thinking she turned on the street that took us to church.  “Mom, where are you going?”  “Oh my!” She exclaimed, “This car just automatically turns here to take us to church.”  And we all giggled.

Then there were the exciting rides with Mom and us three younger kids… an “all day trip” to Oceanside beach for vacation.  We had our baggage and a large folding “room partition” tied on the outside.  The room partition was necessary since we rented a little one room cabin among “Kirk’s Cabins” and the partition provided the only privacy for dressing and using the “potty”.  The bathrooms were somewhere down the row of cabins.  So at night… if you had to go… you used the “potty” J.  Driving down the old winding mountain highway piled high with luggage to the beach… took forever.  Mom wasn’t known for high speeds.  I remember a huge logging truck getting stuck behind us on those curves for miles and miles.  My cute 15 year old sister, Joanne, wrote notes to the truck driver in huge letters on a cardboard and held them up in the rear window for him to read.  He loved it and was obviously roaring with laughter.

When I turned 17 years old I purchased this wonderful car from my mother for $100.  It became my symbol of freedom.  I took my buddy, Erwin Bush, for rides everywhere.  Once we went all the way to the beach on a winter day.  We were driving to Bay Ocean down the very narrow peninsula dividing the Ocean from the Tillamook Bay when we came to “Johnson’s Gap”.  I knew this area well, but did not know that the ocean could come rushing over the hill into the bay sometimes in the winter.  At the gap I had Erwin get out and clear the path before me, since there were large rocks and small logs everywhere on what was left of the road.  I was in low gear going slowly behind him as he worked.  There were two little kids playing on the bay beach just ahead of us.  Suddenly I heard the kids scream.  I looked at them and they were pointing toward the gap in the hill that separated us from the ocean.  I looked to my left and a four foot high ocean wave was coming roaring over that mountain right at me.  I floored the throttle and let out the clutch bouncing over all the obstacles ahead… and the wave that might have swept me along with the car into the bay passed by only barely touching the rear wheels.  

That road has long since been closed and Bay Ocean is only the memory of what once was a small high-end tourist town.  Mr. Mitchell who had spent his fortune developing the city lost everything.  His big natatorium and many beautiful houses went crashing into the ocean and cement roads were left jutting out into the air.  Everything was eventually lost and Bay Ocean became a ghost town.  Mr. Mitchell’s story is the sad history of a man that spent all his wealth building on sand.  Jesus foretold his story in Matthew 7:24-27 "All who listen to my instructions and follow them are wise, like a man who builds his house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents, and the floods rise and the storm winds beat against his house, it won't collapse, for it is built on rock.  But those who hear my instructions and ignore them are foolish, like a man who builds his house on sand.  For when the rains and floods come, and storm winds beat against his house, it will fall with a mighty crash.”  Mr. Mitchell seemed like a nice man to me.  But they say he finally was interned in a home for the mentally ill. 

I took my darling Frances on our first date in that wonderful car… and on many other dates later.  The front seat was not like modern cars with two separate bucket seats.  It was a single bench and ideal for allowing your girl to sit close and lay her head on your shoulder.  I remember late one night when Frances and I were cruising down a lonely country road.  I had one arm around her, holding her close and was driving with the other one.  Suddenly there was a red light behind us and I pulled over.  A police officer came over to shine his flashlight into my car.  He said we were swerving around on the road and said something about using both hands.  I was tempted to ask him, “Both hands?  How then could I steer the car?”  But I knew better than to smart-off at a cop J.    

Hey, take a good look at it.  That car has history!

Ralph

PS. Oh my!  I totally forgot to mention that it was 1933 Oldsmobile with a powerful straight six engine and horribly unreliable cable brakes.  Hydraulic brakes hadn’t been invented yet… much less power assisted brakes and disc brakes.  Today you can stop on a dime.  Back in those days you had to think about stopping long before you got stopped J.

The drive chain was great except the engine was too powerful for the rear axles… at least for a 17 year old kid that wanted to drag-race at every signal light.  I think I broke at least three axles… and had to buy them used at wrecking yards… and they were really scarce.   There were not very many 1933 Oldsmobiles around in 1948-49.