Steve's 1951 Chevy Ownership Story

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Being the dominant victor of World War II and with many countries deeply damaged, the United States emerged as the world’s most powerful nation. This era brought increased employment, better pay, and improved education, enhancing confidence and stability, and setting the stage for the evolving automobile history. During WWII, car production had ceased, and consequently, many late 1940 automobiles were essentially 1942 models; however, companies like Studebaker and Tucker were early pioneers of new designs. By the early 1950s, competition among vehicle manufacturers led to the introduction of new and improved cars, coinciding with a burgeoning trend of women becoming drivers and car owners. 

That is when my mother acquired her new 1951 Chevy. At age eight, I found myself on the showroom floor in Austin, Texas, crawling beneath the car as my parents negotiated the purchase. Memories are intertwined with this vintage Chevrolet. I learned to drive it on country roads at age 13 (one could obtain a Texas driver’s license on your 14th birthday). When dating began, a radio was deemed necessary for music, so I installed an AM radio from a junkyard. My dad, a medical traffic safety advisor, prioritized safety by having lap-type seat belts installed around 1959. Near my high school graduation, my mom bought a 1961 Corvair, and I took ownership of the ’51 for a legal transaction price of $1, with under 40,000 miles on the odometer.

My 1951 Chevy served as my college transporter and eventually made its way to medical school in Galveston, Texas, where the car was protectively grease-undercoated to prevent rust from the Gulf of Mexico's salt air. By the time I graduated, my Chevy showed less rust compared to friends’ newer automobiles, despite its 19 years of age and four years in ocean air. During this period, I met a wonderful woman named Judy, we married, and ultimately took our delayed honeymoon to Mexico in 1969, where the car seemed to blend in better with the age of vehicles there than it did back in Texas. That trip has made my now seventy-year-old Chevy one of the few internationally-driven cars around Kentucky.

In 1970, my service took me to Baltimore for a year, where I scavenged auto parts to install a heater, as it was illegal to drive on expressways without a defroster during snowy days in Maryland. On one occasion, while parked during my wife’s University of Maryland classes, someone dented the rear wheel fender. Later, I was transferred to Lexington, KY for another two years of service, where a massive tree landed on the roof of my Chevy, and it sustained further damage in an accident caused by someone skidding into my car’s rear on an icy road while I was waiting at a red light. A body shop restored it beautifully.

Afterwards, we moved to North Carolina for my specialty training, and soon welcomed our first baby, bringing her home from the hospital in the Chevy. While in Chapel Hill, we enjoyed our membership in the Central Carolina (old) Car Club, reflecting our passion for automobile history.

In 1976, we relocated to Louisville for work at the University of Louisville. Fast forward more than four decades later, and yes, two more babies were brought home in the Chevy. Due to upholstery deterioration, my wife insisted on renewing the seat covers in 1980 before the last baby was taken home. Our kids learned to drive its stick shift before being allowed to use an automatic. They affectionately named it “The Green Bomb.” Tragically, my son, who passed away in a car accident, repaired the carburetor in 1996 and took care of wiring and cooling system repairs. The Chevy served as ceremonial transportation at one daughter’s engagement party.

Although both of our girls have moved away, they came home to practice stick shifting in the Chevy before beginning jobs that required manual transmission skills—one as a nanny with access only to the employer’s car, and the other for driving tractors and trucks on the farm.

The Chevy also serves as a “sled” during Santa Claus gigs around Louisville. After retiring from the University of Louisville, I joined KYANA in 2016. More than three decades after the replacement of the 1980 seat covers, they wore through again during the early COVID-19 times. Our trusted mechanic, Kenny Mitsch, did an excellent job replacing them with spiffy new seat covers that feel perfect. As a beloved driver, the Chevy still bears an old dent from being parked at my Texas high school, as well as others from near Louisville General Hospital and many shopping center door dings. I keep my dad’s original car key, now worn smooth to the point that the brand identity stamping is no longer visible.

Back in Texas in 1993, my folks purchased a Ford Taurus, equipped with dual front airbags, which served them into their old age. My mom passed in 2009, but before that, she had me sign for ownership of the Ford, a classic “little old lady’s car” with less than 40,000 actual miles over its 16 years. This car came back to Kentucky with me. Now, for over a decade, I proudly own two of my mother’s automobiles, each possessing sentimental value, cherished memories, and reliability. How wonderful! Currently, the Chevy “sleeps” in our garage, avoiding outings in rain or snow, while the Ford faces all of Kentucky’s weather.