Flat Out Press - Books about Hot Rods & Custom Cars

Bobbed Job - Hot Rod Magazine 1958

Flat Out is a "favourite book"

We're happy to learn that Flat Out has been named a "favourite book" by Peter Stevens of the British magazine Classic & Sports Cars.

In the May 2009 issue Stevens says:

As an avid collector and reader of books I have loads of favourites, but this is a standout...this paperback captures the feel of early hot-rodding like no other book. To me, the whole essence of a hot rod is that it represents one enthusiast's idea of how a 'faster than stock' car should be, and Flat Out is packed with images the represent that philosophy.

The Dukes Club

The Dukes club of Portland wins the prize for the most beautiful plaque. It is a reproduction of a Ford flathead cylinder head, scaled down to about a quarter as large as the actual head. Like a racing head it's finned. It's also more substantial than most plaques, being over 1" thick (and 10 1/4" wide and 5 1/2" high).

The design of the head led to some problems. A member tapped and threaded the area for spark plugs, and added actual spark plugs. A couple other members followed suit. Then one guy added red wires to his spark plugs.

The club, like all clubs, wanted the plaques to be uniform, but at first changes were accepted, even encouraged. I have a copy of the club minutes of April 14, 1954, when "Freddie Krecklow moved that it does not make any difference whether the sparkplug holes are tapped or not. Motion carried." But when members began adding plug wires the club tried to get the plaques back to their original condition.
The Dukes did not evolve from the Mobileers, but it got some of the earlier club's members. Don Krueger had been a Mobileer, and he became a leading member of the Dukes. Krueger told me: "We met in the meeting room at the north end of Montavilla Park, which was convenient because most of the members were from the Montavilla area. The meeting room had cooking utensils, silverware, dishes, every-thing. We didn't eat there but we could.

"I think we met there once a month, but if something was coming up, like the Portland Roadster Show we might have another meeting, twice a month. Sometimes we met at different members' homes. Lots of times. We met at Steve Weber's house, at 128th and East Burnside. And at Jimmy Davis' house at 150th and Prescott--that's when he had that 1956 corvette.

"We had our club banquets in different places. One year we had it at Top O Scott golf course. We had music and all that. We also had them at Amato's Supper Club on Broadway, and one year in the banquet room at East Side Bowling."
Excerpted from Jacket & Plaque: Portland Rod & Custom Clubs of the 'Fifties
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

Jacket & Plaque: Portland Rod & Custom Clubs of the 'Fifties

Albert Drake's newest book Jacket & Plaque: Portland Rod & Custom Clubs of the 'Fifties is now available!

Car clubs were a phenomenon of the 1950s. They were rare in the 40s, and had mostly disappeared by the 60s, but during the 50s car clubs were a source of inspiration, cameraderie, and participation in the emerging hot rod culture. When Drake began to track down the clubs he remembered only a handful from Portland in the 50s. To date he has located over 150 clubs around Oregon, all from the Fifties, and assuming very club had at least 10 members, that means there were perhaps 1300 active hot rodders on the streets.

Jacket & Plaque is an extensive survey of the clubs in the Northwest. From the early stirrings of the pre-War Oregon Roadster Club, to the Asphalt Monsters, Mobileers and Leadfoots of the late 40s, to the explosion of hot rod clubs in the 50s, this book gives a good idea of what hot rodding was like during the "good old days."

In addition to the clubs, the book has chapters on the birth of the Northwest Timing Association, Multnomah Hot Rod Council, and other interesting trivia about the burgeoning hot rod culture.

With over 350 illustrations and black and white photos of dash plaques, jacket patches, hot rodders and memorabilia this book represents a lifetime of research.

Read an excerpt from Jacket & Plaque.

272 pages, perfect-bound (December 2008)
Throttlers Press; ISBN: 0-936892-22-6; Signed copy...$24.95

Albert Drake at the 53rd Annual Portland Roadster Show

Albert Drake will be selling and signing books at the 53rd Annual Portland Roadster Show at the Oregon Convention Center. March 6, 2009 - March 8, 2009.

Drop by and say hello!

History

When I began reading Hot Rod Magazine in 1950 I wanted to know more about the history of the cars. Those pieces consisted of photos, captions and maybe a couple paragraphs of text. The magazine treated every car as if it were new, and while most were; now and then a rod would appear that seemed to have a history. Almost from the beginning I became obsessed with knowing whatever could be known about a rod or custom. To do any kind of research takes time, which is why even today one reads vague histories. A writer or editor declares that a particular car dates from, say the ‘Fifties, but offers not a shred of documentation.

Sometimes we can’t know. This 1946 Ford coupe was customized shortly after it came from the factory. It has had extensive bodywork, the side and fender trim has been blanked out, it’s been nosed and decked, the taillights have been removed, the holes filled and the lens and bezel mounted low on the trunk lid. The front end has been modified to accommodate the 1946 Chevrolet grill; this was a favorite grill swap just after the war. The car has a beautiful paint job, probably light blue or green, with white sidewalls and stock hubcaps.

It’s an outstanding car, and appeared at a time when such cars were still rare. Anyone who saw it should remember it. The car ran a Road Angels plaque, a club that started in 1950. I joined the Road Angels in July, 1951. I never saw this car. I have shown this photo to most of the older guys in the club and no one remember the car. I showed it to Bill Cahill; the photo was taken in his parents’ driveway – his dad owned the sedan delivery at right – and he could not identify the car.
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

Ray Van Dorn’s Dragster

Drag racing got started in Oregon in Eugene in 1949 and at the Scappoose strip in 1952; the cars ranged from hot coupes and roadsters to late model stockers. There were no dragsters until 1953, when several guys showed up with stripped-down cars with big engines built solely for covering the quarter-mile as quickly as possible.

Ray Van Dorn of Portland had been racing his 1950 Ford coupe with a 276 flathead. He decided he wanted to go faster and knew he could get the fastest speed out of a car like the one the Bean Bandits were running in So-Cal. Don “Duck” Collins was a race car builder in Portland and he built a chassis using Shelby tubing, Ford front and rear end, center steering and the engine moved back several inches. Van Dorn put his 276 Merc in the dragster and race the car at the Scappoose quarter-mile drags and the Madras half-mile runs; he said it went straight as an arrow.

In 1954 Van Dorn had Bill Peterson build a light, streamlined body for the car. Peterson adapted the front part of a surplus drop tank for the nose. The dragster was painted orange with white trim; it was the first dragster to have a sponsor. It ran 128 mph at Scappoose and 138 mph at Madras. In 1955 Van Dorn borrowed Don Ellis’ supercharged Studebaker V-8 engine. When the Drag Safari came to Oregon Van Dorn won his class, turning 127 mph on gas.
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

Bob Feeley

A few years ago I was looking at photos taken in the late 1930s of some young guys and their dolled-up cars. One of the neatest, a 1930 Ford roadster with sheet metal changes and a Riley head, belonged to Bob Feeley. It took me a month to realize that I went to school with a Bob Feeley, and that the guy in the photos must be his father.

The Bob Feeley I knew was somewhat unattractive, with a weasely look and bad skin and already a heavy smoker. He was also a funny kid and had a couple cute girl friends; one I found out years later, he had got pregnant and she had to leave school and return in her senior year. That was a major scandal in those days.

The reason for Bob's popularity had to do with his car, a clean green 1941 Chevrolet coupe with white sidewalls and duals. Most guys did not have a car in high school, and those who did had a lot of junk. Bob's '41 Chev stood out. Always spotless, it was a car that girls loved to ride in.

We graduated in 1953, and Bob soon had a gorgeous 1950 Ford convertible; it was leaded, lowered and painted a deep maroon. I hung out with him occasionally, and I remember one night when we were cruising around and he got a ticket for dual pipes. His parents' house was on a street adjoining a busy intersection, and I'd often go past it to beat the traffic. The Ford disappeared and a nifty 1954 Studebaker was in the driveway; I can't recall whether it had been altered, but it was always spotless.

Then Bob and lots or other guys disappeared. In 1963 I was in a Fred Meyer store shopping with my wife and there was Bob Feeley. He looked just the way he'd looked years earlier, we talked a while, then parted. I didn't see him again, nor did I think about him until I found the old photo of a neat Model A roadster. Thirty years had passed, but just for the heck or it I looked up his name in the phone book; there it was, with an address a block or two from where he had lived years before. A woman answered, and said that Bob Feeley had died of a heart attack a couple years earlier. Something wasn't right, and I asked how old he had been. Ninety-one, she said. I figured it out: she had been married to the guy in the old photo, and was the step-mother or the Bob Feeley I knew. I explained who I was, and asked about Bob junior.

Oh, she said, he committed suicide. He'd lost his job, he was about to lose his car and he shot himself. In 1973, she said.

I had thought I was on the track or some good information, but it all came to a dead end. What affected me most or all was the realization that I wanted to tell someone about Bob but there was no one to tell.

The photo shows Bob Feely Sr.'s 1930 Model A roadster. Both front and rear fenders have been reworked, as have the side panels. Streamlined headlights, cut-down spare tire, and fancy wheel trim. The Engine was a four port Riley.
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

A $25 Hot Rod

Sometimes even I forget how cheap a car could be in the good old bad days. In February, 1952 I bought a complete, running 1929 Ford roadster for only $25.00!

It was a straight and solid body mounted on a 1937 Willys chassis and powered by a Jeep engine. It was someone's idea of neat transportation and it had a radio, heater, top and reworked fenders. It even had those things that some of us never got put back on a car, such as the emergency brake, horn, license plate, light and windshield wipers.

As soon as I could, I took all those things off. I also got rid of the grille, hood and headlights. I was determined to make the car into a stripped-down California hot rod such as the examples I'd seen in magazines. I had no money to do anything to the car, but it cost nothing to remove parts. Mostly I drove it. The car lacked license plates and insurance, but cops were seen infrequently, which was one reason that time was called the good old bad days. After school I drove it all around the neighborhood and beyond, keeping mostly to the side streets, taking corners at speed. I would have continued in that way except that one of those infrequently seen cops came around the corner and gave me a ticket. He also said he never wanted to see that car again. (See Fifties Flashback for a fuller version of this story.)
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

Smooth

A smooth car from the cover of the April, 1952 issue of Hot Rod Magazine.

Today everyone from TV anchor people to college professors use the word "cool" to describe a person, place or thing. It springs easily to the lips, and of course part of the reason it's used is because it reflects well on the user, indicating that he or she is cool. It's an example of a word that is overused, until it has no effect.

Cool probably dates from the late 1950s, from the Beatnik era, when it did gain currency. But early in the decade it was not used as I recall. I remember people saying "smooth" something that would later be called cool. Hot rods and custom cars were smooth, and they were: no excess trim, no spot lights, louvers or flames to interrupt the car's lines. My friend, Norm Cahill, always described a good-looking car as smooth. He also used it to describe articles of clothing or a certain guy. It also described Norm, who always wore a white T-shirt, white pegged cords and either Armishaw saddles or highly-polished smooth-toed cordovans. “He's a smooth cat,” Norm would say, or about a moment of time, "smooth."
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

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Hanna's Ford Roadster

Until I came across this photo, I'd completely forgotten about this roadster; even now I remember it only dimly. It’s a 1930-31 Ford roadster, a model seldom rodded, with a ‘32 grill, which fit easily. The absence of a headlight bar is unusual, as are the whitewall tires, which were expensive. The engine is a Flathead V-8, and I assume it's big because the car is running in B class. The photo was taken at the Scappoose drag strip in 1952 or, more likely, 1953. The car did not set any records so far as I can remember. It was not in any of the early car shows. It was never in a magazine. Any yet, with its metallic blue paint job, it could have been shown.

The guy behind the wheel is Danny Hanna, who was in the Road Angels, the club to which I belonged. He may have owned the car. A few years later Hanna opened a car wash in Portland. He soon had several. Then he began manufacturing all the parts needed to set up a car wash, and he opened car washes under his own name or for other people all over the world. By the 1980s Hanna Car Wash Company owned three Lear jets. By the 1990s things happened and the company went under.
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

Al Drake's A-V8

In February 21, 1951 I bought my first car, a '29 Ford roadster with a '36 Ford V-8 engine and transmission. I had had my eye on the car for weeks; it was parked on the sidewalk across the street from the Oregon Theater, where I worked. Before work I'd often walk over and look at the car, and while there was much I didn't know about cars I could recognize a few things. It was full-fendered, with wells in the front fenders for spare tires. It had a 1939 Ford dash, genuine red leather interior, with rolls and pleats on the seat, dual pipes and a chopped top. It had solid side panels (good) which had been opened up with three tapered, half-round pieces on each side (bad) to let the engine chrome heat out. The chrome grill seemed to be a combination of Chrysler and Packard pieces. Someone had added metal to the lower edges of the front and rear fenders, behind the tires, so that the fenders resembled 1933-34 Ford fenders. The title indicated that the car originated in California. Years later I realized that the work had been done circa 1935-36, which was when a guy would want his Model A fenders to look like later Ford fenders.

Of course I got rid of the front fenders, grill, hood and dashboard as soon as I could. I wanted to get rid of the General Jumbo wheels too (they're worth big bucks today). I would now have left the car the way it was, but I wanted my hot rod to look like the car I'd seen in magazines. I had ideas but my father had the knowledge and ability to carry out my ideas. I bought a perfect 1932 Ford grill and shell, and a used '32 radiator. My father took the dashboard from a 1940 Ford and fitted it to the Model A.

My father traded a bulldozer blade for a 1937 Ford coupe with a worn-out 1949 Ford engine. We completely rebuilt that engine: bored .040, new rod, main and cam bearings, reground valves with Johnson adjustable tappets, new 10" clutch and pressure plate, the works! I bought a new Edmunds dual intake manifold for $37.50, which was half the price of the complete car. Plating was cheap and I had quite a few things chromed, including the oil filter, generator, cut out, etc. The engine was red, with chrome acorn nuts, water hoses and air cleaners and it looked lovely and ran great
A local sheet metal shop made the pieces below the body (my father's idea) and a nice three-piece hood. We had the car running by mid-June, 1951 and painted it red in the driveway. It was nicely finished, with paint and upholstery, and was much nicer than many of the hot rods on the street. I'm still amazed that we got the car finished in five months. I don't know where we got the money: I earned 50 cents an hour at the theater, and my father took home only $50 a week from the service station.
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

Eddie Duhon’s ‘39 Ford

I saw Eddie Duhon’s 1939 Ford four door convertible at one of the first legal drag races in Eugene, Oregon in the summer of 1951. It had black paint, with areas of gray primer, and the top was loose and flapped in the wind. It probably did not have hub caps. The back bumper was missing, and the car had to be pushed in reverse. The grill was missing, as was the hood, and that big flathead was revealed to the world. It had Evans heads and triple manifold, even a magneto--serious stuff in the early 'Fifties. I was terribly excited to be at a real drag race, and much that happened is still vivid in my mind nearly 60 years later. I remember that the car was pushed backward by another car, and the engine caught, roared to life; smoke rose from the engine and Eddie Duhon, looking like a dashing film star with wavy hair and a thin black mustache, revved it, put it in gear and drove to the line. There was that flapping canvas top, engine noise, and as the flag was dropped there was the sound of spinning tires and smoke as the big car left the line and quickly covered the quarter. That year Duhon took first place in the sedan class.

I next saw the '39 a few months later, in March, 1952, when the Ramblers, Duhon's club, and the Road Angels, my club, put on a car show to promote the newly-formed Columbia Timing Association (CTA). Duhon amazed everyone when he drove in a totally rebuilt '39. In a few months he'd built a new engine, had Cliff White build a new padded top and a red and white rolled and pleated interior, painted the car black, did a lot of chrome plating, put on new bumpers and a Packard grill. It was no surprise when the car won the Sweepstakes trophy. What is surprising is that the car was never in another car show nor in a magazine.

In 1958 Duhon was driving to California and the '39 was involved in a serious accident; the entire front end was demolished and there was frame damage. For the next 35 years the car sat. Much of that time it was owned by Ray Foster, and we can thank him for saving the car. But the guy who really saved it was Sam Parker, who had known Duhon in the 1950s and had helped him put an Olds engine in the car in 1958. Sam had tried to buy the car for years, and, on the chance that he might someday get it, had bought things that would be needed to restore it, things like a Packard grill, a 1950 Ford Crestliner steering wheel, yards of old style canvas for the top, etc. Sam, and his son, Bryan, did a ground. up restoration, taking pains to make the car identical to the way it had appeared in 1952. When it was done, Eddie Duhon came to Oregon to look at the car he had not seen for nearly 40 years and he gave the job his approval.
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.

Not a Rat Rod

In the fall of 1951 I had a wreck with my roadster, which resulted in a bent front axle, a ruined radius rod and broken header pipe. It could have been fixed in short order, but I towed the car to my father’s service station in Oswego (now called Lake Oswego) and dismantled it. I had big plans for the hot rod but I had little money. Then, in the spring of 1952, my father passed away. I had been walking and hitchhiking the 20 miles from my house to Oswego to work on the car but the work progressed slowly.

The first thing I did was to fire up the torch and channel the body. Then I bought a new dropped axle and installed it. I tried to make suitable radius rods but they were beyond my ability. Late in the summer of 1952 the station was sold and I had to get the roadster out of there. I towed it home, and then made arrangements to take it to a garage not far from my house. R&S Automotive was owned by a guy named Smith and Keith Randol, a race car builder who ten years later built the chassis for the "Orange Crate".

Randol built the radius rods, made a steering gear support, put in an electric fuel pump, built an exhaust system and wired the car. He also installed a Smith and Jones (Clay Smith) 272-2 full race camshaft and tuned the engine. It never ran better.

The photo was taken by my mother in the fall of 1952, a year after the accident. I must have been proud of my little roadster, or why else would I have asked her to take the photo? But look at it: in channeling the car I managed to burn the red paint off various parts of the body and rear fenders; that's bare metal showing! Regardless of how it looked, it never ran so well and I raced everybody. What did I have to lose?
Copyright 2008, Albert Drake and Flat Out Press.