PUMPKIN PATCH CARS!

or
Memories in Safety Orange.

COLUMN SHIFTS By K. Peddlar Bridges, The Auto-Poet.

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Just, why would anybody paint a car orange or safety orange to be more exact, is beyond me? This question could most likely open us up to hours of debate and wonderment, but, the simple fact is ... people do. Now, this is the Halloween Season and the last I knew, the Halloween Season colors were Black and Orange ... Pumpkin Orange to be exact, whitch is pretty near Safety Orange? I can never think of the color of Safety orange without thinking of my old 53 Ford Ranch Wagon, which I always lovingly called, " The Pumpkin, " in reference to its bright orange paint job. The pumpkin was one of those bright orange vehicles, that I always think of as Pumpkin Patch Cars. The Pumpkin didn't roll off the assembly line as a bright Orange vehicle, but rolled its first miles as a Sea Mist Green Wagon.

The gentleman who bought the car new, drove it until around 1959, and then passed away, at what we could believe was a relatively early age. A relatively and early age, we can believe, because his brother took possession of the 53 in 1959 and drove it until 1999. But, after forty years of driving the Ford and riding with his brother's memory, the brother at 87 years of age, was not too sure of how many more miles he and the Old Ford had left ahead of them. So, he sold the 53 Ranch Wagon to E&B Auto Body in Gonic NH or, "The Boys from Gonic," as I always like to call them. By the time the Boys from Gonic bought the Ford, the Old Gentleman had painted the car a pale-white ... a pale-white with a paint brush paint job, I might add. So, Ed the owner of the E&B shop decided that the Ford needed a paint job. To me, it always seemed ( with the Boys from Gonic, ) that the next car, that came through the shop, ended up rolling out looking just like the feature car, in the last magazine they had just read? I bought the nosed and bright orange 53 Ford Ranch Wagon, ( a mirror image of a recent Hot Rod Magazine feature ... no doubt? ) at a fair price. Ed and the Boys had painted the side windows of the Ranch Wagon bright orange to match the rest of the car. So, the Old Ford looked more like a Ford Courier Sedan, than A Ranch Wagon. They also tuned and lubed the old Ford fine and the Old Ford's Flathead V-8 engine ran smooth and its three on the tree, column shift, slid through the gears. And my friend that was with me, when I picked the old Wagon up, said the first time that Old Familiar back home Flathead Engine fired up, that he saw my eyes flash brighter than the Old Fords bright colored orange paint job! In truth, way down inside ... where I live ... that Old Fords Flathead Engine's sound, turned me back to 14 again. As soon as I got the Old Ford home, I went out and purchased the largest Harley-Davidson decals ( well over a foot each, ) I could. I placed one decal over each far rear side window and one on the rear tailgate, so it became my Harley Machine.

The 53 was what they refer to as a 20 footer or number three. But, I never minded, as I alluded to before, it was my ride back home car. For several years, I kept the 53 in an old cow barn up in Maine. I was spending the summers camping at Potter's Campground in Lebanon Maine. The Campground had several back trail roads that led down to the fishing streams. So, heading down the back trail with the wicker picnic basket, the plaid blanket and with the wooden camp kitchen box set on the tail gate and the radio built in to an old soft drinks' cooler playing the hits from the fiftys' ... even my 70 odd year old Mother and Aunt ... had the re-time of their lives.

The day came that I sold the 53 to a Gentleman from somewhere down in Connecticut. The last time I saw the car, it was riding on a flatbed heading south for a total rehab and custom build. I often think of the 53 and the Old gentleman with the paint brush and his dedication and devotion to his late brother's memory and the 53. I also think of the joy the 53 gave me in the years that I owned it, and my 70 + year old Mother and Aunt, bouncing on the seat, as we rode down the back road trail heading for the fishing stream with the wicker picnic basket in the rear, them gigling like school girls, because they were taking the ride back home with me. It also gives me great comfort, that I had confidence in the fact that the Gentleman who bought the 53 would stear true to his dream and that the 53 is most likely rolling into a cruise night show, somewhere in America, as we speak. Family, Friends and Memories ... It can all be summed up in the simple phrase, I had written on the paper bag book cover on my math book in the 7th grade ... " Flatheads are Forever!" And so are their memories.

All photos by Mark Fisher of Beverly Mass.

Published by Roadpoet eMagazine / roadpoet.com Contact info at roadpoetmagazine@webtv.net

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