My Old 48' Chevy Truck
In 1968, I traded with some guy
my red and white 60' Rambler
for his 48' Chevy pickup truck.
To start it, you had to reach under the dash and
grab two wires with alligator clips on the ends.
When they were hooked together — voilà,
that beast of a motor came to life.
If you made a quick left turn,
the passenger door flew open.
But, a quick right and the door slammed shut.
Ooooooooooooh — it was love at first sight.
A driving experience that
always put me on cloud nine.
That truck I can’t seem to forget.
Musty, dusty, rusty — a unique smell
of worn out mohair upholstery,
gasoline, old grease ,
testosterone and sweat.
Just picture all of this fancy ambiance— — -
Windows all rolled down offering a
sweet hot summer breeze, while
driving to who know where,
no shoes, unbuttoned shirt, Levi shorts,
rocking waist length hair, getting
goosebumps screaming “La Grange”,
by ZZ Top’s with no remorse, and grinding a
three speed gearshift set on the floor.
It made a lot of noises but it worked just fine.
If you heard the sound, you’d know what I mean.
You almost could hear the pistons explode
one cylinder at a time –and
it said chug, chug, chug, chug —
I may be old but I run fine.
A four banger with 90 horse,
but power and mileage was A-OK.
Would you believe how many
windows this little truck had –
two windshields, two side wind wings,
two side roll ups,
two little porthole windows on either side
of a big rear window.
I loved that nine window truck , flaws and all.
It was the lightest duty truck that Chevy made.
It weighed 1900 pounds and cost $1200 when new.
In 1948 you could choose from a few colors.
The picture I used shows the truck in yellow.
Mine was an ugly green festooned
with randomly placed spots of rust.
It had no turn signals.
I remember just for laughs,
when sitting at a stop sign,
I screamed out the window
right turn, or left turn,
as an audible turn signal.
I sold my beloved truck to a young girl.
I think she fell in love with the truck too.
She paid me $200 in quarters.
She was a waitress and
these were quarters that
were among tips she recieved.
Now — 55 years later,
I hope that 75-year-old young girl
is still driving around in my beloved
rare 48' Chevy nine window pickup.
I hope that truck has not been melted down
to possibly make coat hangers as
that would make me so sad.
