Georgia Barn Is Packed With Classic Goodies: '50 Bel Air, '64 Pontiac Le Mans, '65 Impala

When you’re sixteen, the first of four, and your father hands you the keys to his 1955 Chevrolet Two-Ten four-door sedan and makes it your first car, the whole world is at your feet (brake and accelerator pedals). Mike is a seventy-year-old gearhead from Georgia who has amassed a neat collection of old cars, and each and every one of them has a story to tell. Little did he know back in 1970, when he was accepted into the drivers’ secret society, that he would go on to become a piston addict of monumental proportions.

For example, that ’55 was his first hot rod after ditching the original six-cylinder ‘Blue Flame’ 123-hp (125-PS) Chevy plant and throwing in something a bit more exciting. A 396 big-cube V8 (6.5-liter) mated to a four-speed manual was the upgrade he made. The Two-Ten was the middle-of-the-road option for the 1955 Chevrolet line-up, selling around 800,000 units that year, just marginally more than the ‘show car.’

It didn’t last long, though, as one year later, he was faced with yet another life-changing moment: marriage. At 17, he was very happy about the ’55, but his future wife didn’t have a car, so Mike turned his pockets inside out and came up with $3,075, which he expedited to a Chevrolet dealer in exchange for a 1970 Monte Carlo. The 402-cubic-inch 396 eight-cylinder currently in the car is the same one from 54 years ago.

When Mike purchased the Monte Carlo, he didn’t cut short on expenses, so he got a nice one: power windows, bucket seats, AM/FM stereo sound system, automatic leveling, and no console. The one-year-old car had 15,000 miles on the clock (around 24,000 kilometers), and Mike and his wife put another 230 thousand on it (over 370,000 kilometers). Although it is covered in decades’ worth of barn dust – like the rest of the cars in the collection – the Monte Carlo is his favorite. One of his grandsons is interested in putting it back on the road.

Getting a wife didn’t diminish his love for cars but postponed some of his car-centered plans. The 1966 Plymouth Satellite sitting in the same barn is still waiting for the rest of its restoration. At some point, the car was in a body shop when Mike received a very subtle hint from his Mrs. When the Georgia collector brought home this 383 V8 four-speed Mopar, the car was covered in primer.

Naturally, he carried the car to a body shop to get it a fresh coat of paint, but the woman took notice of the car’s absence and gently informed her husband – in a sweet, typical Southern manner - about priorities: ‘If that car gets shiny before my bathroom does, you’re in a world of hurt.’ And the Satellite is still waiting for that shine.

The family car stories don’t end with the 1970 Monte Carlo – in fact, Mike owns several other cars passed on to him. Like a six-window 1960 Cadillac Sedan DeVille that was once his mother’s daily rig. She bought it in 1965, and Mike drove it to high school (on prom night). But, like many of his cars, the Caddy was parked in this collapsing barn some two decades ago – and never touched since. I’m curious if the 390 cubic-inch V8, the venerable 6.5-liter Caddy, is still any good (it probably is, but it might need some convincing before getting up and running).

A similar story is behind the 1964 Pontiac Tempest Le Mans (no, it’s not a GTO) convertible he bought at a swap meet, around the same year the Cadillac was retired. It’s an automatic car with a 350 V8 (that came out in 1968), but it doesn’t run, unfortunately. It would make a nice project if the man were willing to thin his herd, as would the ’65 Corvair sitting alongside the Poncho. The Pontiac actually has a twin brother in the barn, hidden under a tarp to protect the paint job. I guess two OK cars could make one solid driver.

Mike has been into hot rodding throughout his life – the 1955 Chevy frame holding a 250-hp 327 V8 is sufficient evidence – and at one point, he bought a 1939 two-door Chevy sedan with a Cadillac engine in it. This relic has a nice little story: it was owned by a gearhead who wanted to fix it but kept postponing the job (eerie similarity) until he put the car up for sale.

Mike showed up and was greeted by the owner’s spouse, who informed him of the price: the Master Deluxe with its front independent suspension was priced at the exorbitant cost of 25 bucks. ‘But he’ll take $20,’ was the catchphrase that sealed the deal. That was 1971—the same year he bought the Monte Carlo—and Mike towed the car to the barn.

A ’65 Impala Caprice is another of Mike’s haphazard pile of classics – the first year for the nameplate. The Caprice was the luxury trim for the four-door hardtop Impala – a trend that began with the Bel Air, a trim name for two-door hardtops first. Then, the 1958 Impala appeared as a trim level for the hardtop Chevy Bel Air, and so on.

This particular car sports the standard engine, the small 283 V8 rated at 195 horses back in the day. However, more muscular options were available, such as the 250-hp 327 (like the one sitting on that ’55 frame) and a pair of 396 big-blocks. The 6.5-liter Chevy V8 debuted that same year (1965), and in the Caprice, two versions were offered – a 325-hp and the rowdy 425-hp heavy puncher.

Mike also has some nice-looking cars in his shed, like a 1950 Chevrolet Deluxe Bel Air. That’s right, a first-year, top-of-the-line two-door hardtop Chevrolet automobile. I don’t know if this car has been driven by its current owner in the dozen years that he’s had it, but at least he cares for this one more than the others. And yes, that side script is not original; it was added later.

Since his first car was a Chevrolet – which he still has - it’s only natural that this unlikely Georgia collector became a Chevy man. A 1955 Bowtie wagon (owned since 1982) is one more piece of GM Americana classic, but he also has a few oddball cars. The 1963 Dodge Dart wagon is not one of them, but it holds tremendous sentimental value – it belonged to his father-in-law, who bought it new 61 years ago.

The misfits would be a 1967 Ford Anglia, a 1976 Triumph Spitfire, a Farmall tractor, a Rough front loader, and a 1956 Ford F-350 tow truck, which is a rarity among its kind due to its Stringfellow wrecker. Lastly, the 1959 Rambler Super Club Sedan (that he got from a friend of his, who inherited it from his grandfather) used to be a fuel economy champion.

In 1959, a similar model equipped with an overdrive transmission set the bar at 35.4 mpg (6.72 liters/100 km), driving 2,837 miles (4,566 kilometers) from Los Angeles to Miami. The 195.6 cubic-inch L-heat Six (3.2-liter) was a thrifty single-barrel performer, with 90 hp and 150 lb-ft (91 PS, 203 Nm), thanks to its massively undersquare architecture (3.13 x 4.24 inches / 79.5x 109.75 mm).