First, I would like to give you a little history. Back in the early sixties, like 1959 or so, I began to get interested in cars from a how-to standpoint. My dad took his car to the Sinclair station for oil changes and so forth, so I kinda got involved with my next door neighbor, Bill. He was the car nut in our area. He and his buddy Ron were equivalent to gearheads today. Bill and Ron were 12 years or so older than our group, so they were like car gods. Well, Ron had a '55 Imperial that he would completely dechrome twice a year when he redid the Blue Coral. It took a week to wax it. At the time, I couldn't understand why the car was missing all that chrome. He would visit Bill and it looked so odd to see a stripped Imperial in front of our house.

Bill himself had a '56 Dodge D-500, little 2 door sedan, with a Chrysler Hemi under the hood. At this point, let's just say Bill had health problems, and did not work. So, all his time was spent playing with the Dodge. He nicknamed it the Stagecoach. All my buddies, Jerry, Micky, Glenn, Les, Moose and others all hung out in Bill's garage, learning how to do car stuff. Bill would remove the Hemi every fall and completely disassemble the engine and store all the parts, oiled down, all lined up, piece by piece, on the basement floor. In spring it was blueprinted back together. And the fun would begin again. The Stagecoach never saw salt, it never had an engine in winter. Now, my friend Jerry, surprised Bill one day, by removing the paint from the radiator tank and polishing the brass to a mirror finish. That was so cool. Well, in the mid-sixties, Bill passed away, and his best friend Ron drove the Stagecoach in the funeral, ahead of the hearse. Around this time, I got married, had a trip to Southeast Asia, and basically moved on. I had heard that Ron had acquired the Stagecoach from Bill's mom, but that's all I knew. Forgot about it, except whenever I saw my friend Jerry, the Stagecoach always came into the conversation.

Fast forward, about 37 years. This past September I was at a Friday night cruise-in at Rolling Meadows, where Sharon and I go most Friday nights. I was interested in taking some infrared photos and had the camera set up for that. I met two camera people I know and was discussing infrared with them. Something caused me to look away. I stopped talking mid-sentence and told them, "Excuse me, I have to go now, talk to you later." I started running through the huge parking lot, between all the cruise cars, row after row, chasing-you guessed it-the Stagecoach. Some of the cruise people said, "What's up?" I said, "I see the car I worked on in the sixties." They said, "Oh you worked on one like that." I replied, "NO, I worked on THAT car." I kept running, finally catching up and frantically trying to reset my camera to regular color. I began shooting picture after picture of this '56 Dodge D-500.

After about five minutes the driver was getting somewhat annoyed. I walked around the car, went right into his face and said, "This was Bill's car." He looked at me and replied, "I bought it from Bill's mom." I returned, "Don't tell me you are Ronnie," to which he said, "I AM Ronnie." Well needless to say we had a great reunion. He showed me the bill of sale from Henry Susk Dodge in Chicago with my neighbor Bill's name on it. The car has 17,000 miles on it, never been restored, doesn't need any. Ron also still has the Imperial too, in the same condition. Next day I called my friend Jerry, asked how he was. He said he was feeling good. I told him to sit down, I had news. He coolly responded, "You saw the Stagecoach." I told him, "Yeah, and the radiator is still polished brass."

"The Stagecoach" by Dennis Arendt, appeared in the January, 2004, issue of the Chicagoland Corvair Enthusiasts newsletter, the Airhorn. This article may be reproduced in other club's newsletters or web sites, as long as the source is attributed to the Chicagoland Corvair Enthusiasts Airhorn.

The Stagecoach, as seen last year at a Rolling Meadows cruise night.

The Stagecoach

By Dennis Arendt