Oh no, Yeoman, not another blog.
Well, yes.
This one is dedicated to trucks, more specifically work trucks.
I've always had a thing for trucks. And by that I mean real trucks. Not the cards mascarading as trucks that are so common today.
I'm sure I picked this up as a kid.
My father always had a truck. Indeed, he always had a truck when most men of his occupation had cars, and perhaps a truck at home (most did). Most men who did what my father did, and at the time he did it they were all men, drove a car to work day by day. Not my father. He drove a truck.
One of my cousins with my father's 1956 Chevrolet pickup truck.
I don't think my father ever actually owned a car of his own, although he co-owned there with my mother after they were married. Before my grandfather died in the late 1940s, and my father worked as a teenager at the company packing house, my father drove a packing house sedan that had been converted into a truck. It was a 1949 Chevrolet Sedan that had the bonnet removed from the truck, and a box installed.
If that doesn't sound like a truck, rest assured it is. The suspensions on late 40s and early 50s sedans were pretty truck like. I myself had a 1954 Chevrolet Sedan for many years, and I drove it fishing fairly routinely, just like you would a truck. I've owned two other cars since then, and I'd certainly not do that with them.
He had the 1949 prior to going into the Air Force and when he came back out, he bought the truck depicted above, the only new one he ever owned. He had that until some point in the 1960s. I'm told that I cried when he traded it in.
At that time, he acquired a 1965 Chevrolet Camper Special, which oddly enough was a half ton. I recall it well. A stick shift, light green truck with a white tonneau tarp, he had it for many years. I learned how to drive on it. Indeed, when I was old enough to test for my license at age 16, he had only just recently replaced it with a 1972 GMC. I can recall this as I had a hard time with the driving test as I took it on my parent's 1973 Mercury Comet, which I later owned. It was an automatic and I kept going to shift during the test, something which was emphasized by the fact that I was nervous.
I already owned a type of truck at that time, that being what the Army called a 1/4 ton utility truck or vehicle. I.e., a Jeep. Mine was a 1958 M38A1, my first vehicle.
In buying it, I acquired a 4x4, something my father had never owned. Unfortunately for me, or maybe fortunately, the engine was shot when I got it, so like the first car in the ballad
Our Town, it didn't go far. It established a precedence, however. I've never been without a 4x4 since, and I've owned two more Jeeps, one of which I currently drive almost every day.
The 58 M38A1 was ultimately replaced by a 1974 F100 4x4 pickup, a light half ton. It's amazing to think that the 74 was "old" when I got it, as couldn't have been more than six or so years old in reality. It was well-used however, and I only drove it for a year or so before I traded it in, myself, for a Dodge D150, the first great truck I ever owned.
Also, a 1974, it was, as Dodge used to advertise, "job ready". Suspended more like a modern 3/4 ton, it was rough riding and tough as nails. I drove it well into college, even though by that time I already had a second truck, a 1962 Dodge W300. Ultimately, I sold it to my father, it becoming the only 4x4 truck he ever owned. He drove it until it died, and truth be known, he didn't live much longer after that. It's odd to think that he was younger than I am now when he bought it from me, and used it until both he and it really could go no further.
As you can probably tell, I've owned a lot of trucks over the years. If you stick to just pickup trucks, I've owned seven of them, of which four were half tons and the remainder one tons (or heavier). All have been 4x4s. If you include Jeeps as little trucks, which I think they are, I've owned an additional three.
I'm likely done buying them. The last one I bought that I regularly drive I've had now almost twenty years. Petroleum vehicles are coming to an end, and at age 60, I'm also coming to an end.
But I've never gotten over my love for real trucks, and hence this blog on them.
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