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My First Car: Cruising in a 1940 Oldsmobile
By Fred H. Deusch

The story starts in the spring of 1950. I was eighteen, without a license or a car. In July I was supposed to help drive from Rhode Island to Denver, Colorado. Finally my father taught me to drive in his 1940 F-40 series two-door Oldsmobile. By June I passed the driver's license test and the following month five of us headed out for Denver, Colorado. I can no longer remember just how many days we were on the road, however, I do remember that our average speed for the time spent driving was all of 35 miles-per-hour. Remember, in 1950 you had to drive through the cities, not on freeways, but on city streets. When we reached the outskirts of Denver late in the evening, we pulled off the two-lane road and parked in a field to get some shut-eye and save a few bucks by not renting a cabin for the night. (Motels were not yet in vogue.) The following morning we were awakened by cows sticking their noses through our open car windows. We had found a cow field to spend the night in. After spending three days at a convention we headed back to Rhode Island.

Up until this time I was quite content traveling by bus, trolley or foot power wherever I wanted to go. Now I was ready to ask Dad, "Can I use the car tonight?" Borrowing the family car was not acceptable to my father. Instead, he offered to sell me the car for $500 provided I got insurance on it, all I needed was another $100 and I would have my own car. I had already been working for over a year so I was able to make the deal.

One of the first things the Olds needed was four new tires. The tires on the car may have been originals as no tread was left on them. As an apprentice toolmaker my paycheck was quite small, new tires were still very hard to come by because of the Korean War and priced out of my market. However, there was a good market in retreads. Four of them once again cleaned out my funds. The sad thing was that over the next two or three months, three of the tires had blowouts and I never could wear out the fourth. Riding the bus and trolleys for a $1.50 weekly pass didn't seem so bad to me now, but I was also learning that buses, trolleys and girls didn't make the grade too well so I stuck with the Olds.

During the years of World War II the Olds was used for getting my father and mother to work and back and little else. I doubt that the Olds ever got hot enough to turn on the heater. Although used car salesmen love to tell stories like this to sell low mileage cars the engines were usually pretty tired if not completely shot. The Olds fell in the middle of tired and shot. I used to buy re-refined oil, 2 gallons for a buck, at a local Atlantic gas station. What oil didn't burn dripped out through the front oil seal. It's hard to believe that in 1940 Oldsmobile still used a felt oil seal at the front of the engine.

Towards the end of the summer of 1950, a friend wanted to overhaul the engine in his 1937 Chevrolet. Why not do both his engine and my Olds engine? So, with more guts than money or knowledge we had a go at it.

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