The '39 Ford V-8
This is a story about our first car. I am sure that many of you of our generation would have similar stories to tell. First, I have to describe the financial situation in which we were in.
The G.I. Bill provided means for me to graduate from Concord College in southern West Virginia in 1950. With a small savings from my time in the Navy, I entered West Virginia University in a Master’s program. Doing everything possible to get by, including some help from my parents and a job in the Botany Department identifying Alaskan tundra plants in their collection. I received a Master’s Degree in the spring of 1951.
With about all financial resources gone, and instructors position was offered by Salem College, Salem, W. VA and so I began my first teaching experience in July, 1951. I had no car and lived in a boarding house near the College. Mary had just completed her A.B. and Master’s Degree at W. VA University and returned to her home in Pennsboro, about 30 miles from Salem. We were married in November and planned to take a train to Pittsburgh for a short honeymoon.
A Miss Whipple of the Salem College faculty offered her car to us and we drove to Niagara Falls for a long weekend. We returned to a barrack’s apartment by the college and spent our last money on groceries. I received a check about a week later. For several months, we had no car.
Mary’s father had been mayor of Pennsboro and during his regime, a 39 Ford V-8 was abandoned in the town. It remained on a street for some time and he had it pulled to a garage at his home. After two years there, no word had come from its previous owner.
In the spring of 1952, Mary’s father, Mr. Hogue, directed me while I removed the oil pan, the shattered burned bearings, ground the crank shaft smooth and replaced the bearings.
There were no keys, so a light dimmer was rigged on the floor board, hot-wired and the ignition could be turned on and off by pushing the dimmer down for off and again down for on, by the left foot.
The early 39 Fords had the starter under the gas adjustment. The windshield wiper was air driven and it functioned sometimes.
Other problems included a nonfunctioning speedometer, the absence of most of the floor board on the driver’s side and windows on both the front doors out of their track. The windows would roll up but had to be helped down, cookie sheets for the floor board and front doors from a coupe temporarily solved those problems.
I put new gaskets at the manifold and where the exhaust pipe was attached. Exhaust fumes remained a constant headache throughout our 2 year ownership of the V-8. The shoe on my left food would not take a shine!
A major problem we confronted was how to license the now working Ford. Mr. Hogue knew someone that had junked the same model but had kept the title. That title was transferred to me and W. VA plates were obtained. The clutch was well worn, which combined with broken emergency brakes made for some interesting stops and starts in hilly country.
Questionable brakes, windshield wipers, lighting, no speedometer, and a powerful V-8 engine, in a light car, led to some very interesting times. It’s a wonder that we had no accidents nor were we ever stopped by the police.
On one occasion, we traveled on a narrow road, slowed because of a warning sign about road work ahead and then resumed speed after a time when it seemed that the sign no longer mattered. Around a sharp bend, a road grader occupied the entire road. We almost were able to stop before nudging the scrapper blade.
Another time as we topped a hill on U.S. Route 50 and looked ahead to see a stopped school bus at the bottom of a long hill, I immediately started braking. We were saved when we went around the bus which had begun to move forward.
One early winter night with Mary and her sister in the back seat (where there were fewer fumes), I drove from southern W.VA to Mary’s home – some 160 miles away. The windshield wipers failed to work against the falling show. I drove those miles on curvy mountain roads with my face out the side window.
In the early summer of 1953, it became necessary for me to travel to Pennsylvania State University, a distance of about 175 miles from Salem. After nightfall on the return trip, there wasn’t enough current in the battery to operate the head lights and the motor at the same time. Luckily, it was a moonlight night and I drove many miles with the lights off. Lights were turned on with approaching headlights or when in town. Sometimes the lights had to be on too long and the motor would die because the battery was dead. I was given a push several times to get going again. Weary eyed and exhausted, I arrived in Salem at 2:30 a.m.
With a rebuilt starter, generator, and improved wiring, Mary, our five month old daughter, Catherine, and I went to Penn State University in late summer of 1956. All of our belongings were in the V-8. We moved into a 29 foot housetrailer, already in place, our home for three years. My parents loaned us $1,850 to buy the trailer. A teaching assistantship of $121 a month was the income for the three of us for the first year.
We learned after a short time at Penn State that all cars would have to be inspected for licensing. The V-8 would never pass. We sold it for $25 worth of gas, that would buy about 100 gallons. The gas station owner took the motor from the Ford and put it in a pick-up. Our next car was a 1950 Pontiac ($750) and, in 1956, it brought all our belongings to Tiffin and Heidelberg College.
I have described our beginning life together to demonstrate primarily the conditions of so many during that period of time. In the trailer park at Penn State, there were many, many veterans and others in similar straits. Many couples started out with no vehicle and few personal belongings. We were given an opportunity for higher education by the G.I. Bill. My two older brothers received advanced degrees also by the courtesy of the same G.I. Bill.
Mary and I are sure that many of you have similar stories. We would appreciate receiving them either by letter at 110 Mohawk Street or by e-mail at plilly@heidelberg.edu
– Percy