(By Greg Rourke) – Let me share a story with you about how dumb I am. Or at the very least, the lack of foresight I once had.
Back in high school I had the opportunity I had to buy a 55 Chevy. No, it wasn’t brand new, wise guys, I’m not THAT old. The time was 1975 and I had a newly minted drivers license in my pocket. I got wind of a 55 Nomad for sale, cheap. Of course I had to investigate that. Back then, a “driver” example Nomad could have easily been had for under $5000. The story was this one didn’t run and the owner just wanted it gone. For $100. I couldn’t get there fast enough.
So what did I find? A four door station wagon. “All wagons are Nomads” the seller helpfully informed me. Incorrect. This example was the lowest of the low station wagons. Options included a connecting rod through the side of the inliner block. On the plus side was a supposedly running 235 Chevy six, dripping oil on the floor of the Wayback. This car was dry desert Nevada fresh, rock solid with zero rust. It expired on the way to Illinois.
I turned it down. One hundred American dollars, no sale to young smartass Greg. Because who the hell wanted a four door station wagon, even if it was a 55 Chevy?