Remembering Wich's Stand & Hawthorne Blvd., 1962
I lived in Kenosha, Wisconsin, in my early teens. At age 14 and 15, my buddies and I were already dreaming about two things: gals and cars.
Before I could even drive, we used to stand on the corner in downtown Kenosha admiring all the older teenagers’ hopped-up cars go by. They weren’t the sleek street rods of today, but more like rat rods. Everybody knew that the best way to get a good looking gal was to have cool wheels: I wanted to be the one driving a hot rod down the main drag with a pretty girlfriend by my side.
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