Tag: Kingman

Caddy ’58 Picture of the Week

Today is mother’s day, and I thought about writing something snarky about the holiday because during my morning routine of The Online Photographer I read about Anna Jarvis—the woman that worked tirelessly to get the second Sunday in May set aside for all families to honor their mothers. The twist in Anna’s story is that she spent the rest of her life trying to get Mother’s Day abolished because it had become too commercialized.

Evelyn Moore Witkowski
Evelyn Moore Witkowski – She was a middle child of six and a mother of four. Happy Mother’s Day mom.

I did think about my mom today because Queen Anne and I would drive to Kingman—if they were in town—to take them out for lunch or dinner. Father’s Day was much easier because dad’s birthday, mom’s birthday, and my grandmother’s birthday were only days apart. We’d get a three-fer on that visit, but there was only one honored guest on our Mother’s Day visits.

I got my mom a can of rubbing compound this time. Since she’s gone now, she doesn’t need any more gifts, and I need to touch up Archie’s Arizona-Pin-Stripes. I’ll do that while Anne is at lunch with her friends. They found a restaurant that’s giving away meals for moms today. We don’t have any kids, but Anne will do anything for a hamburger.

I need to spiff up the cars because I feel guilty after looking at all of the show cars in Kingman last weekend. (See how I did that: Mother’s day-Kingman-car show?) I really shouldn’t go to automotive events. For weeks afterward, I fantasize how it would be nice to have a project car. This week I even spent time Googling prices, and what I found out is that they’re expensive.

Fortunately, at my age, moments of clarity set in before a used car salesman grabs my wallet. To be honest, I don’t have the skills or tools to do a full restoration myself. I would have to hire someone or spend lots of time and money at Harbor Freight (then wait until that peculiar odor dissipates). Besides, when I change the oil on our cars, I have to take Anne’s cell phone, so I can summon her to get me off the ground. But, wouldn’t it be nice to drive a ’53 Buick Skylark ragtop down Main Street on a warm Saturday night with my best girl smacking gum in my right ear?

Tail fin of a 1958 Caddilac
Caddy ’58 – Although they’re not as tall as those on the 1959 version, there’s still plenty of space on this canvas to reflect the yellow hot-rod next door.

I’ll resign my self to being a car show spectator and taking artistic pictures of them—like this week’s featured image called Caddy ’58. The 1958 Cadillac isn’t prized like the ’59 version, with its two-story tail fins and bullet brake lights. Although these fins aren’t as tall, they still provide a large enough canvas to reflect the yellow hot-rod parked in the next stall. I thought about having a contest and give a print to the first person that identified the car’s make and year, but I remembered that I already gave away the answer in the image’s name and title of this post. So instead, riddle me this, what make and the year is the yellow car reflected in the caddy’s fin?

You can see a larger version of Caddy ‘58 on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy viewing this week’s post and next week; we’ll show another image from our Kingman visit.

Until next time — jw

Red Henry J Picture of the Week

Route 66 Fun Run In Kingman
Route 66 Fun Run In Kingman – For the last 35 years, proud antique car owners gather in Seligman to participate in a fun run and show their cars in Seligman, Kingman, Oatman, and Needles.

My folks lived in Kingman from time to time, so it’s been a common source for many of my stories in the past. After they retired, mom and dad bought a trailer so they could travel the country—or that was the plan. What they did was to split time between Georgia—where my sister lives—and Arizona. It’s not clear to me, but I think they wanted to be close to their kids—however not too close.

They didn’t move on any schedule. Whenever my mom would get a hair up her butt, my dad would call to announce they were leaving. We didn’t know it then, but she was in the early stages of dementia, and something could trigger an episode of paranoia, and then they’d pack up at a moment’s notice. Within a year, they’d be back at the same trailer park where they always stayed. Their random migrations never made sense. We believed they were crazy, which—in the case of my mom—turned out to be more valid than we could have ever suspected.

Since their passing nearly a half-decade ago, we no longer had any reason to stop in Kingman, but last November, when I featured Seligman as our featured destination, I wrote about the Route 66 revival and gathering of classic car and hot rod enthusiasts each year that make a pilgrimage to their Mecca—the Mother Road. Nearly a thousand collector cars gather in Seligman to drive the last contiguous 150 miles of Route 66. They turn a three-hour drive into a weekend event by making show-stops in Kingman, Oatman, and Needles. This Fun-Run has been going on for thirty-eight years, and it happened again this weekend. Since Kingman is up the road (it’s closer than Mesa), I decided to play with the shiny cars, and just to be mean, I dragged Anne along with me.

Red Henry J
Red Henry J – Look closely, and you’ll see the Hotel Beale reflected in the red paint of an old Henry J.

For this show, the city of Kingman blocked off the downtown streets and parked the cars diagonally on each side. The car owners set up chairs in the shade on the sidewalks, while the looky-loos (including us) walked up and down the streets. As we walked through the displays, two things stood out. These were old (my age) white men. No Gen X or Millennials participated in the event. After talking with several owners, I got the impression that they didn’t want to drive those cars. They considered them investments, and the worst thing you could do is to add road miles. For example, I talked to the owner of a Dodge Duster that had a blown drag-race motor and sponsor decals down the sides.

I asked, “What’s your best quarter-mile time?”

“Oh, it’s never been on a drag strip. It’s a show car.”

I cringed and glanced at the roll-cage and thought, “What’s the point?”

On our way to see the cars, I told Anne that I wanted to take photographs capturing the vehicle’s essence. Abstracts that you could show to any car-guy and they could name the auto’s make, model, and year. I wasn’t trying to document the vehicle’s visit to the show. I was looking for graphic art. I feel that I succeeded with this week’s featured image that I call Red Henry J. At first glance it seems like a simple shot of a chrome name badge against the red background. If you look closely, however, you can make out the Hotel Beale reflection in the red paint—even though the Internet jpg version loses much of the original’s detail.

Anne had never heard of Henry J’s, so I explained that hot-rodders liked them because they were small and light. They stuffed big engines in them for drag racing, much like what Carol Shelby did for Cobras. You can see the Henry J parked in the middle of the opening shot above. You can also see the Web version of Red Henry J by clicking here. I hope you enjoy viewing this week’s post and next week; we’ll show another image from our afternoon in Kingman.

Until next time — jw