Soon after Jerry met his engagement obligations, he started to work on what would be the couple’s charriot to their honeymoon – a ‘34 Ford roadster. In seven months time, he built the “coral flame” red roadster featuring a full race 295-inch Merc motor, ‘40 box and rear, and Lincoln brakes. It was all rapped up with a perfect stance and a smooth and clean body. The result is a subtle car focusing on both comfort and performance.

Jerry got his day in May of 1953 when Hot Rod Magazine featured his baby. Check it out:

Now, here’s the fun part – Apparently, this little roadster has been found in near unmolested and mint condition. Details as I get them.

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I mean, everyone has their thing – some fellas like flashy, others dig on mechanical extremes, others purely on function, and others still purely on style. Above everything else, I’ve always sided on the side of sinister/evil intentions. At first notion, this might leave you wondering about my tastes… Skulls? Spider webs? Flames? Is Ryan talking about themes?

Not really. I think, I’m talking about ego.

Let’s just get right down to brass tacks here gentlemen. Why do we put up with all of these old cars and the shit that comes with them? If you really step outside of yourself and give an honest assessment, I think it would be hard to argue that your ego doesn’t play some kind of part in your love. When you dream about driving that roadster project of yours, you dream about rolling down the boulevard with your arm on the door sill, cigarette hanging from your mouth, and the wind blowing in your hair. Turn the corner and there’s that broad… ohh that broad… and she’s seeing you in something you created, something that you appreciate. She’s seeing an extension of you and one that is literally shouting from the mountain tops. Hell, you might be able to get in her pants with such an extension in place.

It’s a classic ego trip. None of us are above it.

It’s also a war. In my humble opinion and regardless of your personal style, simplicity is the absolute key to creating a car that leaves a legacy. Think about the cars of our past that still feel fresh today – Sam’s Merc, Doane’s roadster, Barney’s race car, etc… They are all different. They all have different feels, different purposes, and different motives. However, they all do share one common characteristic – simplicity due to restraint.

And restraint seems easy enough, right? Just stop doing shit to your car. Let it breathe like wine. Let it be itself.

But it’s not that easy. Ego gets in the way.

An example is due. A guy with similar tastes to mine is building a ‘29 sedan. He wants it to look fast while sitting still. He wants it to leave an impression of evil intentions. He paints it black and gets the stance just perfect. It looks right, but the ego wants more. He chops it severely, he gets the top of the tires sitting way past the quarter reveal, he ads some stickers that shout the message, etc… More is more, right?

At this point, the war is lost. It’s all for naught. What started out as a simple exercise of style and function turned into an arms race with the ego. A little ole Ford will never win an arms race with something as dynamic as a man’s ego. It just won’t happen. The victim, of course, is the car. Its potential is lost.

All of this is very melodramatic and I’m not trying to paint a black and white picture, but I believe the theory to be true – egoless cars create the longest lasting impressions. Or maybe it’s just my own ego that is causing me to strive for cars with little personality… or, at least, personalities that match my own.

Either way, I find it all fascinating in a strange and obscure way. I love old cars.

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Before heading south, however, our two heros decided that it would be prudent to stop in Detroit and shake the hand of the man that made their journey possible – Henry Ford. They pulled right up in front of Ford, walked inside, and asked for Henry. You can only imagine the look on the receptionist’s face. One way or another though, the fellas succeeded. The cranky ole Henry Ford made his way down from his top floor office and hung out long enough for the Argentineans to get their picture taken with him. Here’s proof:

No word on whether or not our men made it all the way home.

This morning it dawned on me – that was the Corvette SS that Hot Rod Magazine featured in 1957. I quickly fired up the computer and started researching the car as I’ve never really paid it much attention. Something about seeing it in motion with Elvis at the wheel made me want to learn more. I didn’t make it far in my Google search before I found a GM educational video on YouTube. It completely satisfied my curiosity.

The car is awkward in it’s beauty and I’m sure it never amounted to much, but there is something incredibly fascinating about literally watching what a limitless budget could do in the mid to late 1950’s. It’s fantastic.

Of course, Bob is looking for history on the car. If you’ve seen it or just want to read more about the car, please check out the thread on the H.A.M.B.

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Hi all you Jalopy Journal Guys & Lady’s… My name is Ron Kellogg. I’ve been in this GREAT hobby and have had a love of cars ever since maybe 6 or 7 years old and have never changed. I’ve owned over 300 cars in my life time and have been backed up by my Great wife Sonya of 52 years as well as a son & daughter. Together, they have all put up with my obsession for many years. Ryan has been kind enough to give me the opportunity to show off a sampling of my photo collection in a monthly column here on The Jalopy Journal – each will feature photography from a collection that is well over 1 million strong and taken by some of the best talent history has to offer.

Today, we are going to take a look at Dean Batchelor.

Dean was a man that I very much enjoyed knowing. He was a leader in the art of photos as well as writing and inspired many throughout the world of hot rodding. However, there was a side to Dean that most didn’t know about. He was hero.

Dean Batchelor joined the Army Air Corp in 1942 and became one of the ten needed to outfit a B-17 Flying Fortress. Once in England, Batchelor (at age 22) became a gunner & radio man in the 92nd Bomb Group of the 8th Air Force. The B-17 they had been assigned had already taken its prior crew on 25 missions. The plane, named Flake Happy, performed better than any B-17 they had flown in training and Dean had always said that it was because their flight mechanic was a “Hop Up” guy.

The Flake Happy completed 12 missions with Dean on board and never saw a German aircraft. However, the Germans were excellent with their anti-aircraft guns and upon return to friendly territory, Dean would inevitably find holes all over the aircraft. In fact, the crew’s navigator was replaced for a mission scheduled on July 16, 1944 after being injured by flak. The mission was a big one featuring over almost 2000 Allied aircraft – 442 B-17’s, 85 P-38’s, 85 P-47’s, and 101 P-51’s. Their mission was to knock out a BMW plant and stop its aircraft making business.

The crew approached the target at 25,000 feet. Flak hit from seemingly every direction – both engine #1 and #2 were severely damaged. The pilot was able to feather the #1 engine, but the #2 engine was unresponsive to any commands. They dropped their bombs and headed for an emergency landing in Switzerland. The Flake Happy wouldn’t make it.

The crew ended up crash landing in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. Upon approach, both wings were torn off by sturdy trees. As they slammed against the ground, the fuselage broken into two. It was as violent as you can imagine, but amazingly the entire crew survived without injury. However, the Flake Happy was not quite out of the woods yet.

Surrounded by germans, the crew found themselves on a 9 hour flight to Munich. The Russians were moving in fast to liberate, but the Germans decided to put their prisoners of war in motion. They marched 10,000 men a total of 487 miles over 80 days. Dean kept a log of the entire journey. They stayed in barns and open fields during the winter months of Europe. He had diarrhea for 28 days in a row. He lost 30 pounds. As other men got sick, they were marched off and never seen again. Finally, the group reached U.S. troops and the nightmare was over. Dean and crew survived.

Once back in the states, Dean and his dad took a one year road trip and saw the USA in their… Well, you gotta think it was a Ford – don’t you?

I last saw Dean in Palm Springs just two days before his fatal heart attack. In November of 1994, I was incredibly proud to have been the high bidder on his photo archive. In the future, I plan to share many of these photos (covering the early days of hot rodding, sports car racing, drag racing, and dry lakes racing) with you guys here on The Jalopy Journal.

Here’s just a quick sampling:

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To learn more about Ron and his auto archives or to buy some pretty incredible prints, check out Kellogg Auto Archives.