How a Cream-Puff Caddy Introduced Me to Elegance
Today, the average price of a home in Brentwood, California, is $2.7 million. Back in 1975, though, a typewriter salesman could afford one. I recall that distinctly, because this one-owner, garage-kept 1950 Cadillac Series 62 sedan was purchased from just such a gentleman, for $350, and he named the price.
After learning about the Caddy, I begged a ride to his Brentwood residence to complete the deal, then drove home and dug into my favorite work—car detailing. The chrome and stainless—lots of it, thanks to GM design honcho Harley Earl’s penchant for brightwork—polished up beautifully, and the 25-year-old lacquer responded nicely to rubbing compound, waxing, and buffing (Turtle Wax all the way!).
The car’s only blemish, besides a cloudy headlight and one door that had been resprayed a slightly incorrect Corinth Blue, was—and I’m not joking—a grease-stained rear seat. Because that’s where the demonstrator typewriters always rode, and over time they left their mark.
Materials in the Fleetwood-designed, two-tone interior were magnificent: wool carpets and upholstery, napped cotton headliner, tasteful chrome dashboard features, an ivory-like steering wheel and levers. After its vacuum tubes warmed up, the Delco radio demonstrated fine reception of classical music, news reports on the U.S. withdrawal from Vietnam, and even disco (barf!).
Modeling Cadillac’s immediate postwar design language, everything about the car registered as calm, elegant, and “old money.” Even the electrics seemed old-world; using six volts, the illumination was categorically serene, from the headlights to the soft interior and instrument lights. Even the starter for the 331-cubic-inch, 160-hp V-8 was unhurried at best. Befitting its pampered life, the Caddy nonetheless started, ran, and drove wonderfully. Smooth-riding on a yawning 126-inch wheelbase, it truly was the “Standard of the World,” as the Cadillac Motor Car Division advertised.
Besides a noisy muffler, only one service issue arose. When the hidden brake master cylinder went dry, the pedal sailed right to the floor while I was approaching a four-way stop. In a panic, I blasted the horn, swung hard right, and, lacking seatbelts, hoped for the best. (I didn’t think of yanking the emergency brake.) Luckily, no harm came of the crisis.
Although the Cadillac didn’t stick around long, a lesson imparted by that near-miss did: On older vehicles that predate various sensors and warning lights, keep tabs on everything. Because, left to their own devices, these cars will neither warn nor save you. En garde!
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Back in my college days (late 70s), my buddy bought a 56 Plymouth Savoy from his aunt. He rescued it from a barn and got it in running order. We took a great journey from Ohio thru Carolinas, Florida, Louisiana, Oklahoma, then back to Ohio. We stayed with our relatives and friends all along the way. No major problems and we still talk about the trip to this day.
I bought my 52 when i was 15 from a estate sale for $1800 Dad took me there cause i didnt have my licence yet. As dad and i was backing out of the driveway dad said to the grandson Did You get everything out of the trunk which the grandson said no. We stopped and opened the trunk and there were 3 sets of bamboo golf clubs which the grandson said WOW then took them out. Stupid dad couldnt keep his mouth shut. I still own this car today but no bamboo clubs. I think those clubs should have been mine. After you buy a car dont open the trunk till you get home and hope Hoffa aint in there.
I grew up on older cars, oddly I have cars now that I am still finding warning lights on after owning them for over a decade. The low fuel, and the windshield washer fluid lights come to mind.