’55 Chevrolet Bel Air
My first car sported a black hardtop with white leather interior and red accents. It reliably cruised the streets of Birmingham, Ala., on whitewall tires accompanied by the soothing rumble of dual exhausts (smitties). As a 20-year-old career gal, I was top of the mark (in my own mind). I felt like the Red Baroness flying down the highway, windows down, hair flying in the wind, radio blaring and the sweet roar of the mufflers bubbling in the background. This was, is and always will be the prettiest car to come off any assembly line … in my humble opinion. Life was so special.