When Santa arrived in Grass Valley to prepare for the Roamin Angels’ 17th Annual Toy Drive on December 6th, he was a bit worried. Sure, there will be a mini car show of classics and street rods for everyone to see and enjoy. There would be hot dogs and popcorn for those who brought unwrapped toys or a donation. But with no snow for his sleigh, how could he be sure the toys delivered to the PG&E parking lot from 8 AM until 3 PM could be delivered to all the children? Then Elwood, his elf-in-charge, made a few calls. Through his contacts with the Roamin Angels, he found that Larry C. had a ‘50 Ford F1 pickup in primo condition.

Larry had originally bought it in 1982 to use as a work truck for his construction business, so it was used to hauling heavy loads. After Larry became a real estate agent in 1993, he was able to make it into a street rod. He filled in all the seams, “frenched” the turn signals so that they blend with the body and “shaved” the door handles. Next he dropped in a beefed-up 302 CID Ford engine and four-speed AOD auto trans mated to 4.11:1 gears in the rear end. Elwood kicked the tires on the 20" rear wheels and asked Larry, “So, how well does this baby run?” Larry grinned. “Well enough. But it also handles great with the Volare front end that has power disc brakes. Do you think you will have much of a load?”

Elwood shrugged. “Well, the Big Guy has put on a little more weight lately. All those milk-and-cookie stops, you know. And a lot more kiddies need Santa’s help or they will have no Christmas this year, so I hope there will be a lot of toys. But times are rough. I just hope people don’t forget to help their neighbor this year. You know, some people forget helping anyone else if it means not having my mucho grande latte with a swirl of chocolate syrup.”

“But if Santa is there, won’t the people come?” Larry asked. “He is going to be there, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah, he’ll be there. Never misses a photo op,” Elwood mumbled as he kicked a pine cone. “Parents can bring their cameras and take a picture of the man in red with their kid.”
“But he does a lot for the Christmas spirit,” Larry continues. “I mean, without him, wouldn’t a lot of people forget about doing things like bringing unwrapped toys and donations to things like the Roamin Angels’ Toy Drive?”
“Sure, sure. And he gets to ride around in a cool truck with power steering, power brakes and a tilt wheel to make room for his ‘bowl full of jelly’ belly while I assemble toys at the North Pole.” “Santa will be there all day, talking to the children. Isn’t that what he is supposed to do?”
Elwood nodded his head disgustedly. “Yeah, yeah. I guess so.”
“So what’s your problem?”
“Look at your truck,” Elwood said, pointing at the bright-red pickup. “I have to wear these green tights and a stocking cap while he cruises around in a cool truck that even matches his clothes. Why didn’t you paint it green?”
“My wife, Terrie, likes the way it looks. And I’d rather please her than you.” Larry shrugged. “And Santa thinks it’s a great color, too.”
Elwood shook his head. “He spends his life helping kids and everyone thinks he’s a hero.” Larry draped his arm across Elwood’s shoulder. “Would that more people would think that way, especially this year when times are tough.”
Elwood sighed. “Sure. The Big Guy does care. But I understand the Salvation Army has about fifty percent more people needing help this year. It’s just that he’s too stuck in the red. People need to give more green.”

Santa was pleased at the smooth, clean lines of this pickup. He also liked that the cab was enclosed. “I always get a red nose when I drive the sleigh. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

Santa found the Ford Ranger seats very comfortable and the Stewart Warner gauges easy to read in the custom dash. When he turned on the Vintage Air A/C, he commented, “Now this feels like home, like the North Pole.”

Santa noted that these eight cylinders had more get up and go than eight reindeer. He did have a problem with the Demon carburetor. “Why don’t they make an Angel carburetor,” he asked.

Story & photos by Ron C.© 2008