All 5 of my brothers plus dad loved cars during my growing-up years in Beaumont, Texas. I want to share two of the cars that were responsible for my continuing fascination now well into the sixth decade.
Dad was a machinist extraordinaire and made sure my mother had the best. My oldest brother was very artistic, loved motorcycles and going fast! He served his country in the Air Force throughout the Korean conflict. When he came home, he went to work for Dad and saved enough to obtain a slightly used Jaguar roadster.
My first vivid car memory is a Sunday afternoon, barely 12 years old, driving the coolest car on the planet on an unfinished road that is now a stretch of Interstate 10 between Beaumont and Houston. My big brother teaching me how to drive … years later he was my Best Man when Joy and I were married.
Eddy taught me to drive and to respect the responsibility that goes along with piloting over a ton of steel at speed surrounded by other missiles operating independently in all directions. Great fun that can immediately turn tragic. He was tough on me!
That Red Jag was indeed special … fast, loud, shifting gears, close to the ground, no windows, top down … it was a 4-wheel motorcycle! It was the only one in town, and I loved it!
Eddy let me drive it a lot if he was in the car. So, when I was old enough to make it legal and get a Texas driver’s license, he would not let me take the test in the only car I knew. You could get a license at 14 in 1959 … I had to ask Mom if she would let me take the test in her 1958 Cadillac Fleetwood Sixty Special.
You could not find two cars that were more different than this pair. My first moment behind the wheel of the Cadillac felt like I was driving the garage itself. No gears to shift, silent and air-conditioned. A rare option at the time. It was a living room on wheels.
Nearly 20’ long … I was a skinny little kid that looked ridiculous behind the wheel. Mom was not allowed to go with me and “Marshall Dillon” for the test. I remember him being a huge figure, but that is probably a time warp. Mom said he was very “sweet”; he allowed me to pass the parallel parking test even though I tipped the rear pylon. My excuse was that I wouldn’t have come close in a regular car. I got my license!
It took years of searching to locate two examples that are exact duplicates of these two special cars. The Jaguar is a 1951 XK 120 … so named because it would go that fast. It was the fastest mass-produced car in the world at the time. Only 7631 were built between 1949 and 1954. It is now revered as the first “super” car.
Its size, proportions, and overall layout were the format for other sports cars to come, including the first Corvette in 1953, with a wheelbase of 102”, weighing 2744 pounds.
The engine was a revolutionary 210 cubic inch, 160 Horsepower, dual overhead cam inline 6 built specifically for the XK120 … it continued in production for nearly 40 years. Styling was also revolutionary, still considered a masterpiece that is lauded for its simplicity and sculpture.
We acquired the Jaguar at an auction in Arlington … totally unexpected. One of the last cars to go across the block. When I saw it, I knew it had to be fate. It was late in the day, small crowd, no reserve … great buy and the car is magnificent.
The 1958 Cadillac was just the latest in a string of great cars at our house in the 50s. Mom was very short and viewed the road peering through the steering wheel and the horn ring. Cadillac was the undisputed king of American cars after World War II throughout the 70s. The “Sixty Special” was introduced in 1938 and was the top-of-the-line mass production model until 1993. This was before the onslaught of imported luxury brands from Mercedes and BMW and later to include Lexus and Infiniti.
It’s a very big machine: 5000 pounds … and it was expensive at $7500 … over $90,000 in today’s dollars. It had every available power assist option: steering, brakes, seat, side windows, vent windows, trunk latch, antenna, automatic headlight dimmer, and air conditioning.
I searched for 4 years to find the right car … a black one in New Jersey, a green one in California. Mom’s was white, and painting one would just not be a good idea.
I gave up temporarily. Months later, I visited a friend in Fort Worth. He had a great shop/garage with one car under restoration and a couple of others under covers. I noticed one of those hidden cars had two sharp points draped in canvas. I peeked, and not only was it a ’58 Caddy, it also was a Sixty Special, and it was white!
It was not for sale, but after days of pestering my friend … he caved in and agreed to let me give it a new home. I picked it up and was thrilled that he had fully detailed it and installed a new carburetor … now THAT’S a friend.
These two memory cars will always have a special place in my garage and my heart … just like my brother and mother.
