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1948 Chevrolet Stylemaster
The saga of my Chevrolet Stylemaster begins in June of 1947 at the GM plant in Oakland, which opened in 1916 and built cars and trucks until its closure in 1963.
My great-uncle Howard bought the car in California, but a year later he and his family were transferred to Hawaii and the car was put into storage. When he returned in 1952 he bought a new car, so my father bought the Stylemaster and the next chapter began.
Our daily car was a Plymouth from the 1930s, so the Chevy was destined to become our "Sunday car." At a very young age I received my indoctrination into car repair, helping Dad fix flats with the patches you clamped on to the tube and lit on fire to melt them onto the tube.
As the years went by and the family grew to six, the Sunday drives over the winding O'Shaughnessy Boulevard to Grandma's were a thrill-ride for us kids. Dad was always sure to take the turns sharply, so we would all slide across the back seat. If you were by the window you got squeezed. Of course, this was in the days before seat belts.
My two sisters, brother and myself all learned how to drive on this car. On Mom's first lesson she ran over a bird, and that story lived on forever. After high school graduation in 1966, I was itching for my own car and was allowed to have the Chevy on the condition that I paint it.
After countless weeks of sanding, priming and sanding some more in our garage, a family friend sprayed two coats of enamel. I will never forget how good the car looked.
In 1974 I was the best man at my brother's wedding and I drove him to the church and then to the reception in the Chevy. After that, the Chevy was used periodically but it was basically retired. The last vehicle registration was in 1982, and the Stylemaster sat in the garage for the next 27 years until we sold our family home.
A little work and some elbow grease got it running. It was a nostalgic experience to hear the motor, the truck-like whine of the transmission, the distinctive thump at the release of the brake pedal, and the unwieldy attitude of a car that was engineered with 62-year-old technology.
As you can tell, this car has been an integral piece of our family's history. Last year the front end was rebuilt with the addition of disc brakes, but beyond that it remains pretty much original. Even the factory spotlight still works.
Last year my niece asked if I could drive her to her wedding like I did for her father years before. A few months before the wedding I found myself sanding and priming, but this time I had my son to help out. The Chevy is black with teal green to match the bridesmaids' dresses, and it looks great.
On a rainy Saturday in February, with a new paint job, off to Novato we went, getting plenty of looks and thumbs up. I got the bride to the church on time, and the ride to the reception was nostalgic as we remembered her parents' wedding 37 years before.
My great-uncle Howard bought the car in California, but a year later he and his family were transferred to Hawaii and the car was put into storage. When he returned in 1952 he bought a new car, so my father bought the Stylemaster and the next chapter began.
Our daily car was a Plymouth from the 1930s, so the Chevy was destined to become our "Sunday car." At a very young age I received my indoctrination into car repair, helping Dad fix flats with the patches you clamped on to the tube and lit on fire to melt them onto the tube.
As the years went by and the family grew to six, the Sunday drives over the winding O'Shaughnessy Boulevard to Grandma's were a thrill-ride for us kids. Dad was always sure to take the turns sharply, so we would all slide across the back seat. If you were by the window you got squeezed. Of course, this was in the days before seat belts.
My two sisters, brother and myself all learned how to drive on this car. On Mom's first lesson she ran over a bird, and that story lived on forever. After high school graduation in 1966, I was itching for my own car and was allowed to have the Chevy on the condition that I paint it.
After countless weeks of sanding, priming and sanding some more in our garage, a family friend sprayed two coats of enamel. I will never forget how good the car looked.
In 1974 I was the best man at my brother's wedding and I drove him to the church and then to the reception in the Chevy. After that, the Chevy was used periodically but it was basically retired. The last vehicle registration was in 1982, and the Stylemaster sat in the garage for the next 27 years until we sold our family home.
A little work and some elbow grease got it running. It was a nostalgic experience to hear the motor, the truck-like whine of the transmission, the distinctive thump at the release of the brake pedal, and the unwieldy attitude of a car that was engineered with 62-year-old technology.
As you can tell, this car has been an integral piece of our family's history. Last year the front end was rebuilt with the addition of disc brakes, but beyond that it remains pretty much original. Even the factory spotlight still works.
Last year my niece asked if I could drive her to her wedding like I did for her father years before. A few months before the wedding I found myself sanding and priming, but this time I had my son to help out. The Chevy is black with teal green to match the bridesmaids' dresses, and it looks great.
On a rainy Saturday in February, with a new paint job, off to Novato we went, getting plenty of looks and thumbs up. I got the bride to the church on time, and the ride to the reception was nostalgic as we remembered her parents' wedding 37 years before.
My Ride - 1948 Chevrolet Stylemaster
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