I could’ve sat there in the grass for an hour, just staring at what I was looking at. This could’ve easily been the 1930s…there was no noise except for my breathing and a slight rustle of a breeze passing through the trees. The only thing that could’ve helped this moment along was laundry hanging out to dry and maybe some time-appropriate music on a record player faintly nearby. Moments like these are exceptionally difficult to create and even harder to explain…when you shoot one subject matter, you tend to focus on the now, what is directly in front of your eyes. In a rare moment, however, you feel like you’ve been transported back in time, and if it wasn’t for the modern camera I was shooting this 1936 Chevrolet Standard Coupe Pick-Up with (and the fact that I’ll never run a filtered or visually modified picture here), you’d swear it too.

The Chevrolet itself is something to behold. The colors are appropriately demure, the Coker-prepped artillery wheels and white-wall radial tires look dead-on, and if it wasn’t for the tiny little marker/turn signal lights underneath the headlights, you’d wonder how an eighty-two year old car managed to survive this long looking that good. Or, you might have taken pause at “Coupe Pick-Up”. Don’t worry, I did too. 

For many, the coupe utility vehicles first appear in the United States in 1957 with the arrival of the Ford Ranchero, a two-door Courier wagon with the roof removed aft of the doors. Chevrolet followed up in 1959 with the El Camino, which followed suit by modifying the two-door Brookwood station wagon. But these were not the first coupe utilities…Ford Australia famously produced the first one in 1934 and Holden followed suit one year later. Chevrolet believed that a dual-purpose vehicle was desired by consumers and took the Standard Coupe, relocated the spare tire to the front-right fender, and grafted on a five-foot truck bed. Sedan springs were used in the rear to better support the weight that the Standard Coupe Pick-Up was expected to haul, step points were added to the bumper, and with a 79-horsepower 207ci six-cylinder and three-speed manual transmission, was out the door and into customer’s hands for $535 (2018 dollars: $9,699). So, what benefit was there to a hacked-up car that was more expensive than a half-ton truck? The “car” part provided comfort and ease of operation back when there was a noticeable difference between car and truck, and the “truck” part came into play not only during work, but when gas rationing was a way of life during World War II, because it had a bed, it would be eligible for a ration sticker as a commercial vehicle. 

Visually, other than the fresh paint and some minor details that only a dedicated gearhead would pick up, it would be easy to note the Standard as a survivor. But if you think that this proto-ute is all original, I can show you some beautiful ocean-view coastline out in Arizona. You see, the owner of this car…she wants to drive it, everywhere. And at the age of 75, an old six-cylinder and three-speed manual isn’t going to do the trick, and neither will 1936-spec brakes, regardless that Chevrolet had hydraulic brakes at that time. Certain elements, like the the bodywork that Jason Graham Hot Rods in Portland, Tennessee performed and the paint that Ronnie Jones laid down stand true to the Standard’s timeless character.  But then you dive into the mechanicals, and sorry, but it’s all modern: a 6.0L GM engine and 4L60 automatic, a Heidt’s front suspension, four-wheel disc brakes, power steering, power windows, Vintage Air, and as I was told, a sound system that has “everything that a Bluetooth stereo hides” and you find a perfectly viable driver, just one with vintage curves and a talking point that is sure to start conversations wherever the ute goes.

A project that ate up three years which involved a ton of research, lots of parts-hunting and preparation, the Standard has details that will leave even the most knowledgeable looking twice. Take those taillights…and that, automatically, warrants a second look because the Standard Coupe Pick-Up only came with one. The right-hand light assembly was sourced from a parts car in Mexico, where Standards came with two lights. The step plates on the rear bumper were made based off of the design of the originals. And then there is the history of the car, involving it’s original purchase by the Happy Goodman Family, who were a traveling gospel band out of Madisonville, Kentucky at the time the Chevrolet was purchased. The Standard was specifically chosen to be the luggage-hauling vehicle for the group as they traveled around place to place.

How many of these coupe utilities are left? It is believed that Chevrolet made 3,183 Standard Coupe Pick-Ups, and potentially eight or nine actually still exist in any known condition. So seeing this thing in person alone is a moment I wouldn’t have expected, much less as I saw it…which, for all I could know, could have easily been the summer of 1936 as I was seeing things as I sat in the grass. Had there been a hint of old-time gospel music on the air, I’d be convinced that I had managed to time-travel for just a moment.