From brother to brother, and junker to jewel
The boys rounded the corner and there was their prize. The lackluster clunker wasn't much to look at, but the teenagers didn't care.
The 1956 Chevrolet Bel Air meant one thing to the two boys: motoring freedom. The year was 1968 and Rick Johnson was all of 13 years old.
That morning, Rick tagged along with big brother Michael on a walk to take a look at the car in person. Michael was turning 16 and was eager for a set of wheels.
The seller told the brothers he wanted $350 and handed them the keys to check it out. After endless cranking, the engine wouldn't start. When his brother said “Let's go,” Rick assumed they were passing on the deal. But instead of returning home, they walked a few blocks to a local auto parts store.
Michael purchased a cheap set of points and returned to the Chevy. Armed with a screwdriver he found in the car, he went to work replacing the faulty distributor.
“I remember him gapping the points with a matchbook,” Rick said. “Next thing I know, it fired right up!”
Crafty Michael failed to mention his hasty but successful repair during the negotiation. He convinced the seller to let the “non-running” vehicle go for a paltry $75. It was his, although not legally; the Chevy would be titled in their mother's name. She let him drive it to school for a few years before he got married and moved away.
Before leaving, Michael blew the transmission and shoved the car in the family's backyard. “I wanted it so bad,” Rick said. “I kept bugging my mom until finally she said yes.”
Rick was resourceful and his first step was to seek out Uncle Tommy. His uncle owned a junkyard and gave him a transmission. The 15-year-old got it installed but still lacked a driver's license. Knowing he wouldn't be tooling around anytime soon, Rick decided to gut the entire vehicle.
Six months later, Michael returned home. Walking into the garage and seeing his brother sitting in a sea of “his” car's parts is not what he expected.
“What are you doing with my car!?” Michael exclaimed. Without skipping a beat, Rick recalls replying: “Your car? It's mine — go ask mom!”
That seemed to settle the matter, so Rick was able to continue his overhaul. Wanting more power, the leadfoot installed a Corvette's 327-cubic-inch V-8 underhood. More big plans were in the works but the project dragged on.
Eventually, his father's patience reached a boiling point as the half-completed heap sat, hogging up the family garage. Rick remembers one day in particular.
“Dad said, 'That piece of junk won't make it one block down the street! Get it out of here!' ” His father didn't know Rick actually had gotten the rumbling hot rod running.
“I jumped in and did the biggest burnout down the driveway, down the street and back again!,” Rick said. “I pulled into the garage, grabbed the keys and took off running!”
As Rick, who now lives in Northlake, got older, the classic ended up on the back burner, collecting dust in storage. In the 1990s he deemed it time for a full and proper overhaul. All four of his children took part in the process and gained their dad's gearhead personality.
The black Bel Air beauty took first place at one of its first shows out.
“We gave mom the trophy,” Rick said. “She was so proud and always knew one day it would be this nice.”
• Share your car's story with Matt at auto@dailyherald.com.