Drag Strip Doll!

By Karen Robinson - Indiana, USA representative

Let me see - where did it all begin, my love for the automobile? My parents told me that at age four or five, my father would take me down to the family business, Gardner’s Garage in Murray, Kentucky; you see automobiles are in our blood.  The employees would give me a quarter for every car I could name, and I amassed quite a tidy little sum for a toddler.  I suspect it was at that time I began saving for my first automobile.

My earliest memory of a ‘special’ car was that of a 1936 LaSalle roadster; drop-top with rumble seat, spare tires mounted on the fenders and huge wide whitewall tires - my dad’s project car. Inky (the family dog) and I would get into the LaSalle on a rainy day and drive around the world; there is still something about the smell of damp leather seats and a wet convertible that brings me back to that old LaSalle and Inky yet today. I was about eight years old and absolutely wild about that old car. The other kids were playing with dolls, hide and go seek, and cowboys and Indians, but I turned all that down to sit in that old car and shift those gears. I was going nowhere but looking cool doing it, much like today - I’m still sitting in a classic car trying to look cool.

From then on, cars were constantly on my mind. Growing up on a farm we were surrounded by tractors and farm machinery, not the best choice for transportation but wheels never the less; however, Grandaddy thought only the boys could handle the tractors, but my cousin Brenda and I decided we could learn; I was fourteen, she was twelve. While Grandaddy and his farm hands were elsewhere on the farm we practised until Brenda ran the favourite International harvester through the back of the shed - oops! Practice was over.

Aunt Mary, Brenda’s mother, took pity on us and decided to give us driving lessons.  Every Sunday she drove us to the Dairy Dip for ice cream, but it was not the thought of those sweet, tasty, dripping, sugary concoctions that excited me, it was the knowledge that on those wonderful old country roads home, we would get to take turns learning to drive - Brenda, Steve and I.  Ava was still too young to actively participate, not being able to see over the steering wheel yet, so we just gave her more ice cream and put her in the back seat - same thing we do with her now when she gets in the way! All was well in the world of ‘kiddom’ and driving, then disaster struck - Brenda again! She missed the driveway, ran through the barnyard and over a harrow (a flat square type of drag with vertical 10-inch spikes used for levelling ground) punctured a tire and so ended our lessons. My cousin was certainly holding us back, however you will be happy to know she went on to graduate college and become a teacher and has since managed to drive all over the U.S. without further mishaps. (This is just in case she happens to read this.)

A family friend took up the task from there; she had just graduated from college and started her first teaching job. In case you have noticed a constant reference to teaching whenever a female person is mentioned, that is because back in those days in Kentucky, in small communities, women could either become a teacher, marry a farmer, or escape to the big city. Ava and I escaped to the big city. Now back to wheels: June, our family friend just got her first car, a brand new 1960 Ford Falcon, 2-door, baby blue, 6-cylinder automatic, with black wall tires, centre hubcaps, bench seat… Amazing, I can remember everything about a car from forty-three years ago but couldn’t tell you what I had for breakfast yesterday (ha! selective memory). June and I, together with two best friends Jean and Judy, learned the fundamentals of driving on many gravel roads in the back woods of Kentucky.  I’m ready to solo now, (I think).

At that time the family cars consisted of a 1953 Olds convertible, a ‘55 Ford stick shift (I practised shifting on that Ford in the garage for weeks). Finally, D-Day had arrived; dad is letting me drive. After seventeen or eighteen tries I managed to take off without killing the engine, I missed the turn to the driveway, hit the ditch, narrowly avoided a tree in the front yard and almost run through the front porch! I had remembered to push in the clutch but not the brake - oh, shades of Brenda, I think.

Move on to the big city, Evansville. Fast forward now: graduate, get a job, first car. Dad buys me a 1949 Olds Coupe, however I have to pay him back, every penny.  It was a black, 6-cylinder flathead model with automatic transmission - but changes must be made to transform it from ‘dull’ to ‘cool’ so I change the colour to Fire Engine Red, add dummy spots, huge fuzzy dice, fuzzy mirror muff, teardrop dash knobs and mag wheels. A final touch is to reposition the letters on the hood which read: “OLDSMOBILE” to read: “SOME DOLL”. From then on it was no holds barred. Here’s a list of the stable of automobiles that followed - somewhat in the order that they came.
1957 models were a big feature, beginning with a ‘57 Pontiac Star Chief, then a ‘57 Ford Custom, followed by an Olds of the same vintage, fitted with optional J2 engine. Then, it was time-out for marriage (or maybe not?).  Husband Doug was a car nut too, imagine that, more cars; ‘58 Olds, ‘60 Plymouth convertible, ‘48 Anglia drag car and ‘38 Chevy coupe 327 auto all followed. Next was a ‘29 Model A rod fitted with Buick engine and 4-speed, then a hybrid ‘56 Chevy Nomad with ‘56 Pontiac Safari back end and 327 4-speed. A ‘56 Chevy convertible came next, with a 455 Buick engine and 4-speed. Then it was time to experience some real sixties muscle with a ‘61 Dodge Hemi with 2 4’s and automatic, ‘67 Camaro RS with a 327 4-speed, ‘64 GTO convertible with a 421 full race engine and a 4-speed, ‘65 Olds 442, ‘63 Plymouth Fury with a 413 with a 4-speed, ‘68 Dodge 440 R/T with a 4- speed… And in between, a string of much less memorable ‘55, ‘56, and ‘57 Chevies.

During this period of muscle car madness we bought Ava her first car, a’56 Chevy 2-door hardtop. It was yellow and black 6-cylinder model with standard shift; she didn’t have her license yet, however she had had the fever since the days of being thrown in the back seat with the ice cream. All of these cars were acquired during a six-year period - which should give you some idea of how car crazy we were!

We were well into speed by then; we worked at the local drag strip every Sunday. When we weren’t working we were racing. Ava was working the time clocks in the staging tower at age fourteen. From there we went to circle track and stock car racing; we built and painted our own cars and had lots of help both with the building and sponsorship. However, we always insisted on doing our own painting. At that time women were not allowed to race with men, so they had ‘Powder Puff’ events - but there was nothing powder puff about the way those women drove! It was a dog-eat-dog world, and the gals were out for blood! I had racked up a couple of trophies and a little cash and was at the height of my winning streak when a monstrous pile up on the finish line totalled my Camaro and broke my arm. I won the race but lost my car, and so decided to retire while I was on top.

We got into restoring autos, set up a business and opened what was probably the first ‘all girl body shop’. The opening got a big write-up in the newspaper which (unintentionally) called attention to the fact we were not properly zoned for a body shop – I guess fame has it’s price. So now we have decided to specialise, we didn’t really like building and painting for other people, we preferred building our own - much better! So now we are trying to get set up again, this time to buy, build, and sell our own classic cars. Our parents are gone now, but our father passed on a legacy of love for the automobile that Ava and I have carried on. It may have missed a generation in our kids, but I think our grandchildren have inherited it. Or could this be because we drag them to car shows, tell them how much they love it, and force them to learn the names of all the cars and the statistics that go with them! In conclusion, I surmise that of all man’s inventions the automobile still remains the best.