Drew Pulled the Trigger

Written by Drew Mashburn

Henry Ford's "Tin Lizzy," the Ford Model T, was a game-changer for the common man because of its fairly low price tag and reliability. It was built from 1908 through 1927. Then, Henry switched it up to the Ford Model A, which was manufactured from 1928 through 1931. I rolled off my mom and dad's assembly line in 1951. So, to me, Model T’s were really old school, but Model A’s were only twenty-some years old.  

Lots of folks drive twenty-some-year-old automobiles. My Dad was one of them upon my arrival. Well, actually, my Dad was on active Naval duty in the Korean Conflict when Mom popped me out. Dad and I didn't meet for the first time until I was seven months old. So, his car just sat for a few months while he was away. The first car I remember him owning was not a car at all, but a 1930 or 1931 Ford Model A pickup. The two model years look almost identical. He must have liked his pickup a lot, or maybe it was all he could afford at the time because when it gave up the ghost, he bought another one. I don't really know if I remember both of them or just the second one.  

I do have some memories (all in the Ojai Valley) concerning Dad's A pickup I'll share with you.  

The front windshield on the Model A is hinged at the top. It’s locked in place with a couple of big, round handles. When unlocked, the windshield may be pushed out a couple of inches at the bottom. This allows outside air to enter the passenger compartment to cool it and remove condensation from the inside of the windshield. A's didn't have air-conditioning or defrosters. I can faintly remember standing, when I was a really little boy, on the floor with my chin resting on the dashboard while the air flowed into the cab. As most of you are aware, it gets pretty dang hot at times around this neck of the woods.  

Model A’s have running boards on their sides between the front and back fenders. I remember Dad setting Mitch and me on a running board when his pickup was parked along the curb in front of our home, then hauling out a clear jug of solvent. He drenched a rag in the solvent, then scrubbed us clean. Thank Goodness nobody around us had a burning match! Mitch hasn't been normal since he was scrubbed. Maybe Dad overdid it!  

I'm the eldest (you may call me old, but NEVER "elderly") of six siblings. But, when only my little brother, Mitch, and I existed (the 'good old days' as Mitch and I refer to them), Mom and Dad took us to Santa Paula Canyon to play in the creek. There are oil seeps in that canyon that run into the creek. Mitch and I got black tarry oil all over our bodies. I'll bet this was around 1956 when we lived on East Aliso Street. Our home backed up to the main baseball diamond at Sarzotti Park...but I digress! 

Dad built a small wooden rowboat a couple of years or so before I was born. He built it because the dam for Lake Matilija was completed in 1948. Dad enjoyed fishing and the solitude of being on the water. Oh, I might mention that Dad was born in Ventura simply because there wasn't a hospital in the Ojai Valley in 1925. He pretty much resided in the Ojai Valley his entire life. I recall Dad and I towing his little boat on a trailer behind his Model A pickup to Lake Matilija in Matilija Canyon. The lake is about five miles up the Maricopa Highway (AKA: Hwy. 33) from the "Y" intersection. The "Y" is a term mainly used by old-timers like myself.

In case you're unfamiliar, The "Y" is the intersection of Highways 33 and 150 at the VON'S shopping center. Anyway, if you're familiar with Matilija Canyon, you know that Matilja Canyon Road is a very narrow, winding road that leads up the mountainside from the South side of the highway.  At the top of the incline, a super sharp 20 MPH curve enters the canyon (where one can first see the lake), then heads steeply down the mountainside. In the mid-1950s, the road was even narrower and still dirtier. It freaked me out as Dad wound his way downhill to the boat launch ramp at the mountain's base and the mouth of Rattlesnake Canyon. I swear, I thought we were gonna just slough off the side of that extremely narrow (one-way, as I recall) road, then roll like a snowball down into the lake! Oh, yeah...and I remember Dad leaving me on the docks holding the rope attached to his boat while he parked the A pickup and the boat trailer. I also remember Dad rowing us towards where Matilija Creek entered the lake. One time, there was a sunfish in the bottom of the boat. Its colors were beautiful. I picked it up and got a punctured finger by its dorsal fin. It hurt something fierce, but I didn't tell Dad. I just manned it up at about five years old. No way at that time did it ever cross my mind I would one day be the last Park Ranger stationed at the now long gone Matilija Lake Park, which included two campgrounds and the lake. I was there from August 1974 to February 1978. Guess what? While I lived in the "Park Ranger Residence," I owned a 1928 Ford Model 'AA' dump truck. It was so low-geared it coulda climbed a telephone pole if it could get the traction!   

In 1966, when I was fifteen, Dad asked me, "So, Drew...you'll be getting your driver's license pretty soon. Have you given any thought to what kind of car you're going to buy?" Without skipping a beat, I enthusiastically replied, "I want to get a '30 or '31 Model A pickup just like the ones you had when I was a little boy!" Immediately, Dad shot back loudly with disgust, "A Model A?! They don't even have juice brakes! They have mechanical brakes! Do you know what those are?!" Then, he went on some more about how much improved modern cars were over Model A's. He pointed out that Model A only has a four-cylinder engine while modern cars have six or eight-cylinders. He just couldn't grasp my wanting to own an A. I informed Dad that a Ford Model A club had been formed in Los Angeles. Dad was not able to fathom such and told me I must be mistaken. That is until I managed to get my hands on some of the club's literature and then showed him. He viewed Model A's as just old beaters; over the hill. I reminded Dad there were many Ford Model T clubs throughout America. Of course, he knew so.

Nevertheless, he had a difficult time understanding how inexpensive, somewhat primitive A's were now considered collectible vehicles. So, did I buy an A Pickup? Nope, because all my buddies began riding small motorcycles. Back in those days, one could obtain a learner's permit at fifteen-and-a-half years old. With it, one could drive a motorcycle alone or with a licensed driver on it, but no unlicensed person could be on the bike with you. I spent the few bucks I had accumulated for an A pickup on a 1961 Yamaha 80cc motorcycle. No regrets. My buds and I had a BLAST riding all over the Ojai Valley.  

I did buy a 1929 Model A standard four-door sedan when I was about twenty years old. I got it running but never drove it on the street because, like an idiot, I decided to restore it. I disassembled it. I shoulda just tossed some old blankets over the material-bare seat-springs and driven that baby! "Young and dumb..." comes to mind. I wound up selling it to Dad. He did a little restoring of it but sold it to Dick Miller. Mr. Miller finished the restoration but never licensed it. He sold it to a neighbor who recently sold it to a guy who doesn't live in the Ojai Valley. That's okay. I wanted a pickup anyway, not a sedan.  

So, the years zipped by. I never bought an A pickup. I came close a few times, especially since my retirement in mid-September 2015. I told my son, Forest, to watch for an A pickup. I told him what I wanted: A non-restored, well-maintained, '30 or '31 (NOT a '28 or '29) daily driver, without any rust through and not all bent up. I even had my cousin, Kevin Mashburn, keepin' an eye open for me. Kevin's a car guy, too, but he prefers newer vehicles. Dork! Anyway, Forest finally located one in Huntington Beach. He figured I'd never pull the trigger if I didn't get serious about this one. Forest and I drove down there to check it out. Stephen Chompff met us at his storage unit, where he kept the A pickup for his family. The A had been his Dad's (Gus's). Stephen's Dad bought the A ten years prior but had passed three years earlier. Stephen told me he and his family drove the A a little, but not much, during the first two years since his Dad passed. Stephen told me that A had been safely housed in the storage unit for the past year. When Stephen lifted the storage unit's door, I almost shouted, "I'll take it!" because, even though I could only see the rear of the pickup, I could see it was EXACTLY what I wanted! We came to an agreement over a fair price. I told Stephen I'd have to figure out how to get the A transported to my Meiners Oaks home. He agreed to take a deposit and remove his listing for the little pickup from Craigslist. About two weeks later, I had an automobile transportation company haul the A to my home. That was this last May.  

So far, I've shown the Model A Pickup in three local car shows. Believe me, it'll be in more! 

Hey, I almost forgot. I've got a disassembled 1931 Ford Model AA stake bed truck in my garage. I've had it since I was seventeen years old.  I'm seventy-three now. You do the math!  I still haven't got it back together. This past July 4, I mentioned this to the President of the Ventura County Model A Ford Club. He quickly stated, "You're right on schedule!"  

Ahooooga!!!