So Gleason got creative. One year the entry gifts were oversized screen-printed golf umbrellas in the event colors. For the 20th she gave away stadium blankets embroidered with the event logo. "I spend the better half of their entry fee just buying something wonderful for them," she said. "They always look at us and ask, 'This is ours?' The next year we did a bag so everybody would have something to put all their stuff in."
The trophies are also unique. The first ones were literally unique; she attached various car parts-a '53 Chevy glovebox lid, a hood ornament, and a hubcap-to wooden plaques. Availability led her to simpler trophies over the years, but when an unappreciative attendee threw his plaque back in protest, she started looking. "We wanted people to feel like they were rock stars," she said. "Well I found a guy who makes gold records for the real people. I buy the frames and cut the mat and glue the records in myself." First place gets a gold record. Second and third get a gold 45 (the records are platinum for the 25th anniversary next year, by the way). "Those are just the little twisted things in your brain that make you ask, 'How can we be different than everybody else,'" she admitted.
That race car attitude on...
That race car attitude on Ray Simpson's '41 Willys pickup is no accident; it was a gasser in its day. He restored it to early specs but with a few newer parts and faithful to replace what went missing over the years. For the record, this thing looks evil when in motion.
When you consider the formal dance that repeats itself on Saturday night and the Aspirin Rally the following morning, Lost in the '50s starts to look like quite a lot of work. And it is, according to Gleason.
Whether it's the city fathers, the sheriff, or even the governor, "Every year they try to throw a brick wall in my way," she continued. For example, when the sheriff joked that it would be safer if she just closed the whole town for the weekend, Gleason and her crew appealed to the local businesses, filed the appropriate paperwork, and got the whole downtown area for the show. "They tell me I can't do something," she said. "Well don't tell me I can't do something." For another example of her fortitude, consider that a major highway splits the town. For that evening, though, heavy trucks and all conceded to the show traffic.
It's not money that makes that sort of thing possible; it's a labor of love. Nor is it money that makes people return year after year. If there's a single component that makes Lost in the '50s successful, it's hospitality. This little town of 7,000 practically doubles every third weekend of May. And for those four days, everybody is a local.
Bill and Wendy Jabs have a...
Bill and Wendy Jabs have a number of cool cars, including a real '40 sedan delivery. But we'll take their '34 Australian-bodied Ford Ute. It has speed goodies, juicers, and a stretched axle, but the car remains mostly stock right down to its pump-in-head Flathead and original gearbox.
Patsy Kachanoski owns both...
Patsy Kachanoski owns both of these rigs, and both are rare. The foreground is a '49 Chevy Canopy Express. The background truck is a '58 GMC 3/4-ton 4x4 with power steering, a Hydramatic, and uncommon accessory 17.5 taper-bead wheels.
Had we not known GM destroyed...
Had we not known GM destroyed it, we'd swear the prototype '54 Corvette Nomad survived. What made it especially convincing was the condition. It wasn't thrashed, but it wasn't concours-perfect either. We would have loved to track down the owner just to hear the story.
Lyle and Esther Brown's '66...
Lyle and Esther Brown's '66 Ford is the prototype for the practical custom pickup. It's an original-paint custom-cab made even rarer by an automatic transmission. A Camaro subframe gives it better looks and manners.
Early Chevy IIs are sharp...
Early Chevy IIs are sharp but so seldom are done well. Grant Peterson's '66 is the exception. Those wheels don't just look fancy; they're real forgings from Boze and they measure 18 and 20 inches in diameter. It also has a pretty nasty small-block, Wilwoods, and a modern IFS suspension going for it.
Delbert McDaniels probably...
Delbert McDaniels probably thought we were admiring his '35 Dodge pickup, but we were really sizing it up. Let's see, Adam Young could stretch the axle, I have a Red Ram, and I know a guy trying to sell a set of original straight-spoke Americans with fresh tires...