Ah, me. Just sitting around reminiscing can be therapeutic, and it often provides the basis for a story that might be, for some, familiar. Let's use the metamorphosis of my 1948 Chrysler convertible as an example:
We have to go back a couple of projects before the 'vert to shed some light on the reasoning for my possession of the car in the first place. It was somewhere in the early nineties, and four of us wanted to attend the Street Rod Nationals. The problem was, the only car available was my '30 Model A sedan; it was severely chopped and we four probably topped out at a half-ton - before dinner. Luggage? Hah!
So, the search was on, and it led me to a suitable '48 DeSoto, a 350 Buick-powered 4-door which could handle the load, if we could reassemble it in time; a couple of weeks were all we had. Anyhow, the thrashing began, succeeded, and we made it safely to the Nationals, which were held in Louisville. The car served me, and us, well for a couple of years - but I had to admit it really wasn't prime rodding material, even though I favor the offbeat marques.
When a fellow advised me of a similar car, though a coupe, I was intrigued enough to re-align my spring trip to Knoxville to enable me to check it out en route - and I liked what I saw. It was serving as a "yard car" in a junk yard, and it ran well as a stocker, but with no brakes other than the parking brake. Hauled home, it eventually became a very nice street rod, complete with a subframe, 360 engine, air conditioning and, in time, a professionally-installed interior. Painted aubergine and strawberry cream, it was nice enough, and different enough, to warrant a few spots in some magazines.
As I was enjoying my "orphan", a friend, believing I favored the marque, suggested we pool our funds and buy another '48 Mopar - the Chrysler. A frantic mother was wanting to get rid of it before her sons sold another car from her late husband's collection to further their chemically-related investments. She wanted cash - and soon; there were lawyers' fees to be paid.
So we bought it, with the thought we'd take the "new" car to York, sell it there and divide any profit. Problem was, no one paid the car any heed; it might as well have been invisible. (It was still a coupe) I watched with intense interest as person after person passed it by; a few almost stumbled into it by mistake, looking past it at a more desirable vehicle.
So I drove it back home - it actually ran very well, and everything worked. I decided it needed some alterations from its original form - still thinking of selling it - and went to work splitting the exhaust and adding two more carburetors to the intake manifold. At about this time, the guy who urged me to partner on the car wanted out, so I bought his share, thus eliminating any qualms about its future; everything done from here on would be my decision, and I had some ideas.
The triple carbs and dual exhausts were neat, and I added a nine-inch Ford rear end with 3.0 gears for better driving comfort - but the bottom line was I had two 1948 Mopar coupes, one more than I needed.
Seeing another fellow driving his '38 Chevy convertible, one he had converted from a coupe, got the juices flowing. Numerous conversations convinced me this was the way to go; his preliminary work involved strengthening the body and chassis to make up for the loss of integrity when the roof was removed, and I liked his attention to safety issues. And I believed the conversion from coupe to convertible would increase the car's attractiveness. A chop of 3 1/2 inches wouldn't hurt; those cars were too high, anyway.
A couple of weeks later I drove my open-air hot rod home, and began seriously looking into the future: what did I want, and how would I get it? I needed a top and a modern power-plant to get me from A to B in quick order. I had noticed a couple of Chryslers at the Nationals using Cadillac engines, and they seemed to fit well, even in my "small" Windsor, which came from the factory using a 6 cylinder engine, unlike the bigger "8" New Yorkers.
So I put the word out: I was looking for either a Hemi (I saw a '48 with one of those monsters - supercharged - tucked neatly between the fenders; it ran no hood and the image was almost frightening) or a Caddy - the bigger the better.
The Caddy was less than two miles away; another rodder, unaware I was on the prowl, was about to junk a perfectly good - as I'd discover - 500 incher. When we opened it up, you could have eaten off the inside of the valve covers; my luck doesn't usually run this way.
Over the winter the GM subframe was installed, and the powerplant, and a custom radiator built locally was added, and I found front seats from a T-Bird that functioned as designed - I was at the ready, as they say.
My pathetic attempt to build a fiberglass roof was intercepted, thankfully, by those who knew the whys and wherefores, and the second try was successful; my brother Rick had worked with Corvettes for long enough to understand the characteristics of 'glass, and the top is now covered expertly in a white convertible material by a shop that specializes in this sort of thing - I'm proud of it and glad my hard-headedness was overridden. Much as I want to do it all myself - there are people out there who do a much better job in their field.
Which brings us to the paint: I painted it myself, except for the front fenders. My expertise with acrylic lacquer isn't exactly legendary, but I was satisfied with the result - until I saw the difference Rick's spray gun made using urethane on those fenders; they were awesome. Still, I thought I'd enjoy the car as is for a while, and we started adding flames - urethane - knowing a better appearance was somewhere down the road, and in a different color.
Unfortunately - I use that word too much, it seems - "down the road" took on a new meaning, and I got sidetracked - often. I put together a 1948 Oldsmobile as a challenge, and helped others with minor projects where I could. (Rodders know where I'm coming from on this subject) So the Chrysler has been in a kind of limbo, though it's been driven, in primer, for too many years to count. But that's coming to an end as well. With all the mechanical issues now solved, digital gauges added, and my "helping out" projects on hold, it was time to put some color on the old, faithful Chrysler. The job is now completed; the hood, trunk and windshield areas have been sprayed a deep orange metallic, with lots of pearl added for emphasis. The fenders and doors - and bumpers, grille, etc. received an equally deep pearlescent root beer, though Chrysler Corporation refers to the shade in question as "Cognac. " I like the name by itself; it says something about the uniqueness of the automobile. We - my brother Rick applied the finish - added some gold pearl to the mix; it came with a 2% copper pearl in the factory formula. I bought the wheels I wanted in Louisville during the 2008 Street Rod Nationals, but they wouldn't fit - the back spacing on the rear wheels wasn't sufficient to clear the fenders; the nine inch Ford diferential was too wide. I've exchanged them for another style - more expensive but custom built to my specifications, and they should be in place by mid-September.
I'm enclosing a few photos of the Chrysler as it was and as it is, and one of the '48 DeSoto coupe which preceded it; it's been sold. Keep in mind this wasn't a convertible at the outset - I have a photo of it taken when it was "new" to me, before its first trip to York; it's made many since.
