A $50 Plymouth Savoy and the Cost of a Teenage Burnout

Noted by Dan Bridger · 300 reads

A 1955 Plymouth Savoy looked like a bargain at $50. One ill judged burnout broke its reverse gear and turned the car into a lesson.

A $50 Plymouth Savoy and the Cost of a Teenage Burnout

For a teenager eager to own a car, a clean 1955 Plymouth Savoy for $50 sounded like a rare find. The bargain lasted only a few days before a show off attempt at a burnout destroyed the car’s reverse gear. The Savoy could still move forward, but its owner had bought himself a noisy mechanical problem and a lesson in what a car can’t forgive.

A first car bought on trust

I got my driver’s license at 16, near the end of 1968. I was in my junior year of high school and had a motorcycle for everyday transportation, but weather sometimes meant borrowing one of my parents’ two cars. One was a 1957 Chrysler New Yorker, which I would own later. Having access to a family car helped, but I wanted one that was mine.

Two weeks before my senior year began in 1969, I started working at a Clark station. My boss, Chuck Oleson, heard from one of his elderly regular customers that the man planned to stop driving and sell his car. The customer lived a couple of blocks north of the station on Hopkins. Chuck made the introduction, and I went to look.

The Plymouth waiting in the driveway was a four-door 1955 Savoy. It was remarkably clean, with no rust and an interior that looked almost new beneath plastic covers on the bench seats. Under the hood sat a straight-six engine, paired with a three-on-the-tree manual transmission. The interior picture in the original post shows an automatic, rather than the manual setup in this car. I don’t remember the mileage precisely, but I believe it was not much more than 50,000.

The owner asked $50, on the condition that I promised to look after it. I had the money and agreed. At 16, I was too young to own and register the car myself, so I brought the title home and asked my father to come see it. He took a look, decided it was a good deal, signed off, and helped bring it home.

The transmission takes the hit

I had the car only a few days when I drove it to Chuck’s station to show the guys my purchase. Being 16, I wanted the Savoy to make an impression. I floored the gas and popped the clutch, hoping for a burnout. The straight-six only managed to squeak the tires.

That wasn’t enough for me. I put the car in reverse, thinking that shifting the weight would make it easier to spin the rear tires and produce a smoky backward burnout. Instead, I blew the reverse gear in the transmission.

Pieces of the broken gear remained inside the transmission. The car could still travel in forward gears, but metal fragments in the oil made a loud, harsh clatter whenever it moved. I drove it that way for about a month, unsure when the transmission might seize. At the time, I didn’t know how to repair cars. A friend started showing me how to fix or replace the parts I damaged on later cars the following year.

The Savoy’s problem wasn’t a mystery that needed diagnosing: I knew what I’d done. Still, I gave my father a story about the transmission simply coming apart while I was backing up. I’m sure he understood the real cause, but he let me off gently. He told me the car wasn’t worth repairing, then followed me to Larry’s junkyard. The Plymouth joined two other vehicles there.

A short ownership and a lasting reminder

My first car was a striking find: clean body, tidy interior, and a price I could afford. But the $50 purchase didn’t make me a capable mechanic or give the transmission any extra strength. I treated the car as a prop for a performance, and the damaged gear quickly changed what the bargain meant. For about a month, every forward trip came with a reminder in the form of that banging noise.

Later, I got to know Larry, the junkyard owner, because I bought plenty of parts from him to repair other cars. The Savoy was one of three vehicles that ended up at his yard, but it was the one that taught me an early lesson about taking responsibility for what I broke. I didn’t see the elderly seller again, which spared me the awkwardness of explaining how quickly his car had reached the junkyard.

That lesson arrived before I knew how to turn a wrench: an old car can be a good deal and still demand care, and a short moment of showing off can undo the value of the whole purchase. The Savoy lasted only days in my hands, but its failed reverse gear became part of the education that followed.

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Source: Dan Bridger · dbridgerhot.blogspot.com

A first car bought on trust

The transmission takes the hit

A short ownership and a lasting reminder

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