Mine was a 1952 Buick Super 4 door. 263 OHV straight eight and a DynaFlow transmission. My granddaddy had bought the car from his boss in 1954, since the boss traded every two years. I was brought home from the hospital in it. My granddaddy died in '58 and my grandmother hung onto "Old Betsy."

She kept insurance and tags on it until 1965 and then it just sat in the garage. She would go out and start it up every few weeks or so. Finally, the battery died and it sat for a number of years.She gave it to me when I was 17, in 1971. My dad was an old Buick man and he said the engine was probably frozen. My grandmother sent him down to Western Auto to buy a battery and asked him to try and get it running for me. Dad stuck in the new battery, a six volt 2EE, a long, skinny model that sat net to the fender well, poured gas in the carburetor and and she fired right up! His comment was, "Well, I'll be d--ned!"

He just didn't have the faith that me and my grandmother had.
I drove her for about two years and then got a 1960 Pontiac, as parts were easier to find. I kept the Buick for years. All three of MY children came home from the hospital in it too.

I did add seatbelts so that I could strap down a car seat.
In 2000, I no longer had a garage and the poor old car was going to pieces. I decided to sell her to someone who could enjoy her as much as I did. Of course, now I wish I still had "Old Betsy."