Growing up in the small, rural town of Roseburg, Oregon (population less than 20,000), there never seemed to be much to do as a kid. Well, that is, nothing fun and exciting like we imagined kids had it in bigger towns like Medford and Springfield and small cities like Eugene and Portland. Roseburg was known as the Timber Capital of the Nation; a logging town with an insular economy. It was a perfect town for the everyday outdoorsman. I wasn’t exactly the outdoorsy kind of kid. Sure, my Dad had shown me how to fish and we went hunting and camping. But most of the time, I’d rather stay home and listen to music on the stereo or sit in a folding chair on the river bank and bury my head in a book or magazine. Until Spring…and then it was time for all of the classic car show and shines.
What's a Show and Shine?
A show and shine is a gathering where classic car owners polish and wax the beautiful, curving metal of their cars to glossy perfection and then park the shining gems in a big, open field or parking lot to show off to vintage car enthusiasts. Every Spring, Roseburg would have several show and shines in the area, and we’d usually end up at all of them.
My Father, the Car Nut
My father was a mechanic by trade. Cars were in his blood since his youth. He was the kid in high school who was always buying a jalopy and fixing it up or drawing pictures in class of cars that he wanted to bring to life. He’d dreamed of going to college and getting a degree so that he could design cars at one of the Big Three (Ford, Chrysler, and General Motors). And he probably would have done just that if the war in Vietnam never happened. But that’s a story for another time…
Once my father returned home from Vietnam, he tried other fields of work, but as good as he was at those other jobs—cars were his true calling. So, being the daughter of a single father who is a car nut, I got dragged along to all of the classic car shows. I never minded though because it must be something shared in our blood—I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the rolling curves, the chrome finishes, and the whitewalls on tires. They were magical to me! Seeing those hunks of metal and glass roll across the grass, they just glided like they were floating on air. I couldn’t wrap my head around how something that was so heavy could move with effortless grace.
Today's Picture
Through the years, my love of classic cars grew and my Dad and I had planned to build my first car together; a restored 1966 Ford Mustang in metallic Midnight Blue. Life had other plans for us, though, and that never happened. Such is always the case, right? But I still can’t help but stop and admire a classic car when I see one like this 1974 Cadillac Eldorado convertible that I saw parked on U Street in Washington, D.C.
I’m not sure how many cars my Dad restored while I was a kid, but I do specifically remember all of the hard work, time, and money that goes into restoring a classic car. It really is a labor of love.
This Eldorado didn’t have the smoothest paint job and the wheels are updated instead of stock, but it was easy to see that someone had poured their heart into this car. The number of people staring at me while I squatted low to the ground to get this shot was laughable, but I couldn’t be bothered with their judgement—I was too busy capturing a piece of beautiful car history that had been polished, waxed, and put out to show and shine.
About
Hi, I’m Krystal! I’m a freelance writer and editor originally from the West Coast who’s now living in New York City. I'm stubbornly independent and tend to talk like a sailor, but I'll try to hold my tongue. No guarantees, though.
You can learn more about me here.