Speak for yourself, Mr. ABD!
In high school, I had a pal from a farm outside of town, who drove a Model A, well, just everywhere. We all drove that puppy.
Representative factoid: One below-zero winter's night in the early 40s, we (a bunch o' the guys) were en route to a basketball game - our little downstate Illinois town had a championship team. Suddenly, the car lurched a bit and the somewhat surprised passenger assembly observed one of its wheels rolling merrily down the road in the headlights. Too cold to do "much". No spare lug nuts in any hidden recesses. So we did what any red-blooded American boys would do. We 1) stopped laughing and 2) took 1 ea "exrra" nut off the 3 other wheels, installed them, and went on our merry way. Years and years later, on a visit home, I asked my pal whatever happened to that trusty Model A. He said it was still in use on his farm as a "utility vehicle", w/o a body, and still with 3 lug nuts only on each wheel. Memories, memories.
I saw a Tucker on an LA street when I was an undergraduate. "Cool" would not have
encompassed its immediate impression, when – say – compared to my maroon, 2-door, Chevy
PowerGlide! coupe.
From what I remember about the "real" events of Tucker and his automobile, the "reel" portrayal was typical Hollywood fantasy . . . essentially semi-unrecognizable hyperbole.
One problem, a 1948 automobile, purchased
new by a Californian would/should (if memory serves) have a black/orange license plate. The blue/orange versions came later. So that may be a flaw in the writer's memoir. But, that's minor when considering the whole interesting account.
Thanks for posting
PS:
More pics than you can imagine, here . . .
Tucker photosCheck especially the one with the open doors in the bottom row on Page 11, of that site.
Preston Tucker was a genius, born 30+ years too soon, apparently.