As with my 2 previous installments of this “American Car” series, I begin with a personal anecdote. It was 1961.  I had recently graduated from high school, and had an apartment in Santa Rosa, CA.   A friend lived in an adjacent apartment, and one afternoon we took a drive in his 1951 Chevrolet Sedan.  This was an old 4-door that he had inherited from his parents, nondescript and gray, with a shabby interior and absolutely no qualities that would turn your head, except for the slight engine knock, which a mechanic would immediately notice.   Well, on the way home, the oil pressure started to drop, and the knock in the engine became more noticeable.  The stream of smoke that the car always left behind grew more and more alarming.  The water temperature started to climb.  But did my friend stop at a service station to investigate the problem and add oil and water?  Of course not.  We were only five miles from home, and he had some oil in the garage.  He was sure he could “make it.”  Continue reading →