If you watch the girls’ videos you’ve likely seen Chitter’s truck. It’s a 1986 Chevrolet Custom Deluxe. She’s crazy about the truck, and so is her Daddy.
And I like it pretty good myself.
The truck reminds me of all the trucks I rode in as a girl.
When I was really small Pap had a green step-side truck. I loved to stand on the step and hang on to the bed of the truck. Since I was so small my head barely reached above the bed rail.
That was the only truck Pap had of his own while I was growing up, but he often drove home various trucks from the oil companies he worked for.
When I was in elementary school it was a red truck (maybe a Ford) that had wooden standards around the back of it. The front window was so crammed full of parts, tools, and papers that you could barely see out the window! If we missed the bus he’d drop us off at school as he went to work.
One time I remember for some reason we were in a really big truck. I don’t think it was a tanker, but Pap did haul gasoline all over the east coast. The only thing I remember is him letting us out down below the old school on the highway since he couldn’t pull into the school parking lot and make the loop.
The Deer Hunter has had more trucks than I can remember since we’ve been married. But the one that Chitter’s reminds me of most is the one he had when we were courting and were first married. It was an 84 Custom Deluxe.
Every time I ride in Chitter’s truck it’s as if I’m in a time warp. I love the roll up windows and the small vent window just in front of them. The spaciousness of the cab is also just wonderful.
Perhaps the best thing about the old truck is the amazing view you can get from the large expanse of glass. The field of vision is so much larger than in modern day vehicles.
Riding along with her one evening last week I was struck by the beauty of Appalachia in summer and beyond tickled that I could see it up close and personal as we drove down the road.
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Hi Tipper and family. I’ve been busy and have had a lot going on lately and thankfully catching up on your posts. I so enjoy them! My sister and I have our dad in a nursing home in Powder Springs, Ga and our mother in Twin City, Ga near Statesboro, both with special needs. I was sorry to hear that Granny hasn’t been feeling well. I will be praying. On a different note when my cousin and I were around ten years old, my dad gave us a ride to our granny and papaw’s house in his 70 some model Ford Ton truck. It was in the Summertime and we giggled the whole way because the windshield wipers were going crazy moving back and forth and it wasn’t even raining, but was a sunny day : )
Mine and my late wife’s first date (Dec 1975) was in a truck. It was a 1950(?) 1 ton flatbed Dodge with a cattle bed owned by my soon to be brother-in-law). We put bails of hay up against the wooden cattle rack all the way around and filled it up with bundled up kids from Sawmill Hill Freewill Baptist Church at Lauada. I drove around slowly, stopping at various places, while the kids sang Christmas Carols. Almost half a century has passed since that pleasant memory appeared. It remains clear in my mind.
One more memory that is not so pleasant about that truck. My brother-in-law need some gravel for his driveway. He wanted me to take it over to Hewitt’s and get a load. “How much do you want?” “All you can get on it.” We put cheap plywood around the bed to keep the gravel from falling out and off I went. I told them at the quarry to fill it up. “Are you sure?” “That’s what he said!” So he did. Almost 10 tons of gravel on a 1 ton truck. That’s what they normally haul on twin or triple axle. The springs on the back of the old truck couldn’t hold the load and collapsed. But, I had to make it work, so off I go.
You know how that road is from Hewitt’s to the Nantahala Outdoor Center is. There is no straight places long enough for cars to pass me. I was creeping along at about 10 or 15 MPH. I was leading a long procession and didn’t have a place to pull off and let them by. As far back as I could see cars were lined up and there was probably more behind them. I went on past the Outdoor Center and started up out of the Gorge but the truck barely had the energy to move. I had one more lower gear but was afraid to try to shift down because if I missed it, I knew I couldn’t get started again and if I got to rolling back the brakes wouldn’t stop me. But the old truck kept chugging along. I guess it didn’t want me to have to bail out because without me it would suffer serious consequences. We finally got to the top where the road flattened out a bit. But, that’s just a brief respite.
We had two significant descending grades to negotiate. The mountain that begins at Nantahala Village and ends down where #28 joins in. It’s not long but it’s steep. Steep enough to burn the brakes off a 1950 Dodge truck with 20,000 pounds of busted up rock on the back. I geared down to granny and tried to use the brakes as little as possibly. We made it to the bottom but had to rest there as the brakes were hot and stinking and the engine was starting to overheat. The floorboard was hot so I figure the transmission was too. So we rested a while at John Allen’s old store building which was no longer operating.
The next hurtle was Hutchins Hill (named for Robert Hutchins’ folks). Not exactly what I would call a hill, it fell off more like a mountain to me. All the way down to the Little Tennessee River. Not hardy as bad as the mountain we had just come down but twice as long and with a couple of curves where the rock of the road bank overhung the pavement. There was one place one the westbound side where the mountainside had eroded away back under the guardrails and the edge of the pavement was breaking up. If I had lost control the truck and I would have flown over the mountain taking the guardrail with us. But the old truck didn’t fail me and I didn’t fail me. Another mile and we were home. Not my home, the truck’s home.
You know, I am a 1950 model too. They made ’em tough back then.
God bless you Tipper, I got high triglycerides and toothache, infection, God help me in Jesus name, dangerous levels of triglycerides, God bless Granny
My boyfriend at the time—later to become my husband had so many cars from a Blue Ford Galaxie, to a VW square back to his pride a Ford white truck. I remember the cab being very roomy, and we’d go to the drive in movie when they still existed, getting in the back and watching whatever was the movie of the day. Thanks for sharing your memories. My prayers go out to you and your family at this time.
I had a 64 Ford galaxy, color code y, I think it was, God bless you and your family in Jesus name
There’s nothing like having a truck. It’s great for so many things. My husband is a right down true Ford man. He wouldn’t have nothing else. I like Toyota myself. He dad is a Chevy man. He has some old ones that don’t run in the back of his yard. Vans , trucks and cars. He probably has a fortune with all of em.
I love Katie’s truck! Daddy always kept a pickup, and it was always a Chevy. We’d take it into town in the summertime and sell watermelons out of the back of it. It was used for so many things, but the fondest memories were getting to ride in the back and then learning how to drive it. When my husband used to have trucks, they were always a Ford. Daddy would say, “Robert sure loves a Ford, wish he would try a Chevy.” It was all in good fun. I love the older trucks with the roll up windows and that little vent window. I wish I owned one today. Nothing more fun than riding down country roads in a pickup truck, especially an old one. Tell Katie to hang on to that truck, it’s priceless!! She’s doing a great job fixing it also!!
The days of vent and crank up or down windows and 2 -60 air conditioning. For the younger generations this is rolling down 2 windows and doing 60 mph. My father in law would say if it’s not a Ford park it on the other side of the road, not in my yard. He once owned an old probably 40’s or early 50’s Dodge truck that he claimed would not start if a dog peed on a wheel. Riding in the in the open beds of these trucks and the vent and roll down widows sure were a lot of fun. Teenagers liked to catch their passenger with their hand outside the widow and would pull over close to shoulder of the old country roads hoping that a tall weed or bush would smack their hand. A lot of ugly words would get said by passenger if this happen while the driver laughed. When I look back to these days I can’t help but think of the fun although sometimes dangerous we had black then. One other thing, I remember when riding with my best friend in a 65 Chevy truck, a country road full of white chickens , a dare and him shifting the truck to second gear and floor boarding the gas pedal. Thank goodness our parents never found out, 50 years later our butts would still be burning.
I enjoyed your walk down memory lane about old trucks. My older brother had an old Dodge pick up truck (his only vehicle then). He courted his wife in that truck. They were married 65 years. We used to tease him by singing Hank Williams’ song “Tennessee Border.” He paid me to clean the interior of the truck before his Saturday night dates. I got to keep any change I found, and I often ate or pilfered the remains of a bag of dried apricots. Hadn’t thought of that in many years.
Praying for Granny and all of you.
Memories of riding on tailgate of my dad’s truck which was held in place by chains. All good until he hit a bump or terrace row in pasture and you found yourself on the ground or next to the cab because the tailgate bounced. Just wondering…Tipper have you or could you do a cooking video on how you fry chicken? Thanks
Robert-I never have but hope to in the future:)
I enjoyed reading this. The reminiscing and then the last three paragraphs especially. The way you speak about up close and personal and seeing the beauty just from riding in an older truck – things like that that can bring back memories – of all kinds, but the simple and innocent memories particularly. Good times.
There is something comforting about and makes my heart smile, so to speak, to reminisce about the simple things especially when something from the past brings it to mind.
There is something wonderful about those trucks. The huge windshield and the long bench seat. Brings back a time gone by. Know that we are praying for Granny! She reminds me so much of my Grandmother. Please keep us all posted as you know more. You guys are family!
Tipper, trucks have always played a big part in my family’s life as well. I have wonderful memories of times I’ve spent in trucks, all sizes, for work and pleasure. There is a difference perspective from the window of a truck, you can see so much more. I was thinking about all the fun songs about trucks and the sad one by Lee Brice. “I Drive Your Truck”. I got a kick out of watching Katie working under her truck.
My 1st vehicle was a 1953 Chevy truck which started a tradition. All my vehicles since with a brief moment of weakness have been trucks. Bowties ( Chevy) were always the favorite until they start rusting faster than I could get them paid for. As daddy always said a pickup is as handy as a shirt pocket ( sometimes too handy when friends need something moved).
I absolutely love old trucks too. Owning one is on my bucket list when we move out of the city and to the hills. I remember playing with my cousins in the back of my grandfather’s truck in Andrews when he came home for lunch from the car wash and laundromat he owned in town. My memories of being in Andrews with my grandparents are my most cherished.
Back in the sixties my boyfriend drove a 64 blue Ford truck with red panels. I thought that was the prettiest truck I’d ever seen. I’d sit on the front porch watching for that blue truck to come around that curve and my heart would just flutter when I saw it! Of course he was going fast, like all the boys did, and my daddy would say “I’m telling that boy to slow down or you’re not going anywhere with him.”
Oh the joy of love back in the day and such good memories. Although Katie’s truck is a chevy, I love it. Oh and by the way, I married that guy that drove the Ford truck
Ah, vent windows that blew air in your face if it was opened wide as possible! Back before a/c was in our vehicles.
My late half loved old trucks too. Easier to work on, mechanic wise, without the computer chips etc. And plenty of elbow room for engine work. But as he got older, he drifted towards new F150 & 250s and felt just as happy not having to work on them. Said he was getting too old & summers too hot. On weekends, he’d grab his fishing gear and drive 1 hr. to the east coast to get a fish or too for his dinner.
Aren’t those little side windows the coolest things? I can’t blame Chitter for being crazy in love with her truck. Daddy always owned trucks and had just one car all his life. The car was a brown Studebaker that would never start. Four little weak kids and mom had to push it every morning so daddy could go to work. I was glad he didn’t keep it very long because I missed riding in the back of the trucks.
Praying for Granny to get good results at the doctors visit.
Country memories often involve trucks, like the green F150 column shift I passed my drivers test in. Or the old Willys jeep Dad had for years. They become characters in the story of our lives. Been a long time since I noticed a vehicle with a vent window. I think some people call them ‘cubby’ windows. They work well which is why I guess they are no longer made?
Old trucks in Appalachia are a prized treasure. For years my dad had an old 4W drive Farm Use truck, and our entertainment on visits was to get in that old truck and drive around to where different trees of Chinquapins and Chestnuts were located to gather nuts. Dad kept Honeybuns and coffee in a thermos for snacking. There was also a vacant house on the property that still had old fruit trees, and we would explore. Not far from that vacant house on a bank on the dirt road there was a pitiful coal seam where at one time the family had dug out coal to heat the home. Up about half-way Dad had built a bench in case we decided to walk instead. I still miss that old truck we named Egbert. In looking back, I could not have imagined that I was living the dream back then. Such simple pleasures, even though I feared the creatures nesting in Egbert would come out in the truck cab at any time. You could see the remnants of their nests. We can’t go back. but we can give the young ones free experiences that will enrich and guide them later in life. I think someone said it better than me when they said, “The best things in life are free.”
Prayers for Granny! Take care and God bless ❣️
Old Ford pickups remind me of my Daddy and Grandaddy. I would love to have a late 70s or early 80s Ford.
This comment is for both Kara and Johnny Mayo. Kara I assumed since this is about trucks your granddaddy’s Falcon would have been a Falcon Ranchero, I image today these are rare and a restored one or one in good shape would be worth a lot of money. I drove my grandaddy’s 63 Falcon car with manual transmission when taking my driver’s license test. Johnny I never owned a hot rod but always thought if I did I would like to have a 32 Ford coupe or a T bucket. My father in law’s 1965 Ford truck has a truck bed full of sentimental family value. Before my mother in law died she wanted my grandson (her great grandson) to have this truck. She told him I feel like you will be more likely to keep and take care of it, I know you loved your great granddaddy. I was told the same thing about the 94 I mentioned earlier, my wife’s aunt said she wanted her husband’s truck kept in the family. Remember before extended cabs and the mid 70’s when the truck gas tanks were mounted in the cab right behind the seat. Back then a lot more men smoked and I heard my father in law say there was many times he would leave a lit Coleman lantern in the floorboard of a truck to help warm the inside of truck up faster after coon hunting. I never knew of any of these causing any problems. My wife said she never understood how her daddy, mother and 5 young girls all sit in the cab of this 65 truck.
It is very beautiful here. I love finding roads I have never traveled just enjoying the trees and flowers.
Older vehicles, similar to ones we rode in as a kid, do bring back strong memories. I learned to drive in my grandfathers ’63 Dodge crew cab pickup. I think crew cabs were very unusual in those years, but he was a civil engineer and did a lot of land surveying and wanted to carry his crew and all the equipment. It had a smell of cheap cigars which also bring back a flood of memories too. My current vehicle is an ’06 Nissan Frontier with manual transmission and crank windows. One time when my daughter was about 8, I had to take her and a bunch of her girlfriends somewhere and one of the girls said from the back seat, “Wow, if you turn this crank, the window goes up and down. That’s so cool!”
My dad was a truck driver when I was a little girl and hauled locust fence posts down to south Georgia. I was a Daddy’s girl and I would listen for the grinding sound of his motor in the evenings as it climbed up the hill on his way home. I would run to meet him and he would stop and let me in. I was so small I could barely reach the running board, but what a happy moment when I climbed into the cab with him. Daddy was home and all was well!
This is a great post, Tipper, as always. My husband has had many trucks throughout our life together, which is coming upon 40 years of marriage in November, Lord willing and nothing happens. We have known each other for 48 years and from the day I met him, he had a truck. I don’t remember the exact year or model it was, but we met in 1974 and he had a red truck which later my oldest brother who was a car mechanic and custom car painter, painted fire flames on the side and from the hood. Later on he added big side pipes, huge wheels, it was the talk of all our friends. He called it Baby Brother. Oh the memories your post brings up of our own memories. You’re the best Tipper! Thank you for sharing your memories, which brings out some of our own good memories too.
Half a world away, though the scenery is so similar to the area I lived a Kid in the SE Queensland/New South Wales border ranges (dirt road then). My Parents brought a Nissan 720 dual cab in ’84, they had to give it up in 2010, when the Authorities deemed them too old to drive, reckon the best vehicle they ever had. Look forward to the final reveal on Chitter’s truck.
Tipper, you’re exactly right about older model trucks! They’re spacious, windows crank, it’s nothing sophisticated and they are easier to work on! They don’t have computer chips, etc. I think the whole electric car thing is utterly ridiculous, but that’s my opinion and I’m certainly entitled to it. I have a ‘17 Tacoma AKA as the death mobile. It has peanut oil coated wires- YES- and rats love nibbling them. Something died in the fenders someplace going on 2 years ago and the smell is still there. New machines are made to make it hard on regular folks I do believe. I buy as many antiques as I can muster cause everything now from clothes you buy out to food you buy out and vehicles and even bed frames and dressers are mostly plywood junk. That’s a fact. Having big problems feeding my comment.
My dad ha a really old truck when I was a teenager. It was a classic old thing maybe from the late 50’s. I was a teenager/young adult in the 70’s so it was a pretty old truck. He loved that truck and called it ol blue. My dad would take my mom to the co-op to buy what they needed for the garden. Great memory.
Linda, my Ol’ Blue was a ’68 Ford. It had a straight 6-cylinder engine. I could stand on the ground inside the engine compartment to change the spark plugs. The fuel tank was behind the bench seat. When the fuel gage float got a hole in it, I replaced it with an aluminum 35 mm film canister, which worked just fine. That old truck got a V-6 engine and new life when I sold it to a family member. He laughed when replacing my improvised headlight adjuster, a piece of deer antler wedged in to aim the beam. I hope country boys can still make do when they have to.
Gotta love those square body Chevys. For that matter, I just love pickup trucks.
My Dad drove an old GMC truck for years and years. When I think about that truck, I think about how it took my dad to work and back over the years and how hard my daddy worked for his family. I think about riding in the tailgate with my friends singing songs during the summer. I think about all us neighborhood kids jumping in the back of his truck for daddy to haul us to the top of the hill just to sled back down in the snow and to be picked up again and again to do it all over. Most of all though, I think about our ride abouts, as we called them, through the mountains. That was something special that he and I just did. My sister and brother never cared about coming with us but we would always find a place to hike and have a picnic. He would tell me the history of places and we would talk about days gone by. It’s something he always shared with his dad and I’m so glad I get to share with him. He’s in real bad health now but I always try to take him for a ride about to the mountains when he’s having a good day. Thank you for sparking all these memories in my heart. Continued prayers for Granny and all of you.
My daddy never was able to afford a truck when I was at home and growing up, we did good to have a car that only liked a few miles from being in the junk yard. My father in law bought a new 1965 Ford F100 step side and drove it for many years. My grandson now owns it. In my adult life, I have owned a1963 Ford step side, 1975, 1986, and now 1996 all half ton (F100 or F150) Fords
and all red except for the 96 which is blue. The 96 now has around 300,000 miles on it and the engine has not been rebuilt, the odometer broke 10 years ago at 235,000 miles. I always loved a truck with manual transmissions but can no longer drive one because of bad knees that will not let me work a clutch. I recently bought a 1994 F150 fully loaded with extended cab and every option available at that time from my wife’s uncle . It only has 68,000 miles on it but has a few mechanical problems from sitting up so long. He had health problems that lead to his death and the truck was not drove for many years. I would rather have a truck any day than a car especially these new trucks. I mentioned manual transmission, anyone remember the old days when a manual transmission was said to be three on tree, four in the floor with a fifth under the seat, or a granny 4 speed meaning first gear geared very low and usually not used unless heavy loaded?
Randy my first car was like the one in my avatar . . . a ’50 Ford Custom V8 with 3 on the tree. I actually prefer a manual transmission despite having bought quite a few with automatics. I have only ever owned 1 pickup, the ’90 Ford F150 extended cab that I own now. It only has 75,000 miles on it and has a 4 speed with a granny gear. My only complaint is that it has fuel injectors instead of a carburetor.
Robert, I actually like the fuel injectors better than a carburetor, it seemed to me a carburetor would give more trouble, especially with the automatic choke. I believe Ford stopped using carburetors all together on their trucks after 1986. My 86 with the 300 cubic inch straight 6 cylinder had a carburetor that gave me some trouble. I think the V8s had already been switched to fuel injectors. I drove some later models with the same engine that were fuel injected, they all had a lot more power than mine with the carburetor. Ford made this bullet proof engine from about 65 to 96. Unless it is an old time mechanic most of today’s mechanic would not know anything about working on a carburetor. The 94 I mentioned is a 4wheel drive with the 351 fuel injected engine that only gets about 12 miles to the gallon. I can only afford to drive it church on Sunday and then park it outside my window and look at it for the rest of the week, but it shore is pretty!
I find it intriguing how vehicles can evoke such strong memories. Cars & pickups play center stage for so many stories of my life from the time I was very young up to the present. I’ve always loved cars/trucks, especially race cars, hot rods and customs. Even today, one of my greatest pleasures is working & driving my ’32 hi boy hot rod. Old school cars r the best!!
My dad was a rural mailman and had to furnish his own truck. He has Willy’s for awhile and then settled on Ford Broncos. He always carried Bazooka bubble gum in a lunch sack to hand out to kids on his route. In the summer the whole truck smelled like Bazooka. How I long to smell that again and how I wished I had one of his old trucks.
My grandfather had a 1964 Ford Falcon….he would let us ride in the back bed of the truck…we thought that was the greatest thing….feeling that wind on your face in the heat of the summer. Thank you for for reminding me of a wonderful memory ❤️
Was it a Ranchero? My uncle Wayne had a Ranchero. It wasn’t a real truck because it didn’t have a frame under it. It wouldn’t haul any more than a car but it was much easier to get your stuff in or out.
Good for her. Yes, I saw it when she first got it and it reminded me of my Dad’s ’55 Chevy. I helped by handing him the nuts an bolts and some of the lumber when he was building the panels for the back. It was a one ton and I thought it was the biggest back I had ever seen. It allowed quite a few of my friends to ride in the back as he took us for a hay-ride. Wow, did we think we were something….yes, a long long long time ago. I am sure she loves it, you can see it in Chitter’s face and hear it in Matt’s voice. Praying for Granny’s good Doctors visit this week. God Bless
We want to move there so much. Can you tell me if there’s any affordable small homes nearby? We want to move before fall. Any info would be helpful. We are retired by but still able to do things. Thank you.
Deborah japp
Deborah-land and houses in my area have become extremely expensive since the pandemic, at least in relation to what they once were here. I’m not sure how they compare with the rest of the US. I would suggest contacting a real estate agent in the area. Also hopefully someone with more information than me will chime in with some tips about areas that are still affordable. I hope you find a place!!
I remember my Dad’s ton and half 49 Dodge truck flat bed with removable wood sides. He would let shift the floor gear shift while he drove. Such a thrill to ride in it! We would play Army in it after it quit running. When he sold it they actually got it running! I felt like I had lost a childhood friend rusty bumpers and all. Good story Tipper!