This is all Truman Bradley's fault. He asked me to write a piece about the car I had in the 1950's. Now the problem started when I talked to Ron Latham about when and where we all began. Many people think that the start of hot rodding in North Burnaby started with the Dragons and the Igniters. Not so. In 1949 or 50, depending on who you talk to, the local police department started a car club called the North Burnaby Auto Safety Club. Among it's members were Ron Latham, Ron Vivian and myself. I was sure that the police just wanted to get us all together to see who we were so they could record our movements. I always had the conspiracy theory in the back of my mind even then. The meetings were held in the jail which was located in the 4300 block of Hastings. Few had cars, but all had an interest in what made them tick. While this club did not last too long, it cemented friendships that have lasted until today.

Ron Vivian went on to the igniters and Ron Latham and I went to the Dragons. About the same time I met with Chuck Robinson who lived in the neighborhood. On one of my back alley explorations I happened upon Chuck and some friends working on a car in Chuck's garage. I stood in the alley for a while until someone noticed me and invited me in. This was the beginning of a friendship with Chuck that exists today. He introduced me to the BCCCA and many of it's members. This was also the beginning of my love for drag racing. I did not have a drivers licence so Chuck took me every where he went. This proved to be quite an education for an impressionable person like myself.

I finally bought a 1934 three window coupe that had belonged to Larry McBride. Some of the BCCCA members were nice enough to tow my car to Abottsford to the drags. (I still did not have a licence) There were many experiences that I will write about at another time.

One of the members was Tony Unger. He had built a beautiful 1931 Ford Roadster. This car was the nicest Hot Rod I had ever seen. Unfortunately Tony had an accident going to the interior one weekend and wrecked the roadster. Chuck bought the wreck and started to re-assemble it. I was always around so Chuck asked me to help. Part way through the project Chuck suggested that I buy the car that I had coveted when Tony first built it. I did not wait for him to change his mind. A quick trip to the bank and the car was mine. Chuck helped me finish it. We painted it gloss black. This was done at the Igniters club house. (now Norburn Electric )

The car was one of the few full fendered hot rods of it's day. When I entered it in the 1956 Motorama there wasn't even a class for it. The top was chopped. There was a full compliment of Stewart Warner gauges in a hand made dash. The gear shift was on the column. To make the shifter fit it was mounted upside down. This made the shift pattern backwards. Fine for me, but confusing for anyone else who tried to drive it. The Interior was black and white tuck and roll. The rumble seat was also done the same. At the Motorama there was a pinstriper from Tacoma named Les Curry who drew a cats face on the rear lid. The car became known as the Black Cat. The engine was a 296 cubic inch flat head with Offenhauser equipment. It had much of the chrome that Tony had originally put on it. The brakes were Kinmount discs. This is where the memory starts to dim. I owned this car until 1958 when I sold it and another 1934 three window full fendered coupe to the Thompson brothers.( Truman will tell you about the '34 if you ask him) I took a 1948 Chev Fleetline on trade. With the money I had left over I bought two motorcycles and went racing.

I did not give hot rods another thought until Brian Zuck from Ace Tattoos said that I should get back into it. He told me they were not caned Hot Rods anymore. I should refer to them by a more subdued name, Street Rod. The car that 1 have today is much the same as the Black Cat. It now has a steel top (I got tired of getting wet) The engine is modern, but I still have the full fenders and rumble seat that I liked nearly fifty years ago. Old habits die hard.

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