The beast in the picture was my first car. It came into my life by way of my Aunt Pat who bought it new in the fall of 1955. She lived with my Mom, Dad and I on Long Island in New York. I was 5 yrs old and helped her wash it every weekend. I was her personal detail guy and in love with that ’56 Bel Aire Chevy. It was my dream as a kid growing up to own such a car. As I grew into a gear-head, it became obvious that having a 55, 56, or 57 Chevy were THE cars to have.

Well, she still had the car when she got married about in 1960. The car was still pristine. She married a lawyer who considered cars to be appliances. When they got married, he sold his clapped out Pontiac and started driving the Chevy……..right into the ground! He never took care of it…didn’t even wash it and I got to watch it slowly disintegrate. They would visit often and finally the car gave it up, blown tranny……right in our driveway. It wouldn't start and was totally trashed out. He turned to me and said,” Here kid, want a car? I’ll sell it to you for a buck”. The deal was done and I started rebuilding her that night.

I turned the car into a great street racer over the years that I drove all the way until 1976. I took it to college and to my first job in Detroit. The salt in Michigan finally rusted the body off the chassis and I gave her a proper burial. It is now 2012 and I still have parts of that car…..simply put, it changed my life forever. Nowadays, when I see a red/white ’56 Bel Aire coupe, I still tear up.

Herb