There was a time many years ago when young teenagers didn’t own fancy cars. They would inherit a car from their grandparent’s or an obscure uncle that didn’t need the car any longer. A gifted car was both appreciated and cherished for it provided something that was not otherwise easily attainable — the gift of freedom and transportation. When I was young, my preferred means of transportation was to walk or pedal my old Schwinn bicycle. But times have changed.
In the old days, well over 50 years ago, when a car was given to the youngest and newest member of the family, the old car was most likely very old and worn. Many of the vehicles dated back to the 1920s and 1930s and were known as Model A Fords or some type of coupe. The recipient was very pleased and appreciated the old car and would showcase this marvel by riding up and down Main Street with a load of his or her friends aboard. This type of old car was commonly referred to as a “jalopy.”
Though the origin of the name is lost to history, it is a name that I recall in my earlier days. It was very popular for a teenager to simply refer to their car as a jalopy. Not a Ford, not a Chevrolet, but a jalopy. Those old jalopies would hold some serious value today but that is a subject for another story.
As the war years approached and the value of scrap metal escalated, it was patriotic to donate your scrap iron. It helped the war effort and provided some funds for soldiers overseas. People would conduct scrap drives and bring anything with some weight to support the drive. Old iron fences were stripped from the front of once grand Victorian homes and thrown on the scrap pile. Many of the old jalopies that no longer ran were also towed to the local scrap drives and donated in the name of patriotism. As the scrap pile grew so did the eclectic collection of items in the pile.
Late in the year, a tradition was established in Concord. When the harvest was concluded and the cold autumn chill ushered in early darkness each eve this tradition was repeated time and again. The Concord event was known back in the 1940s as the “Junked Jalopy Bonfire” and was held in the field across the street from the present day Everett Arena.
Word would spread to citizens to let them know the old jalopies were needed for the annual bonfire. It was always on a Friday night late in November and people humorously referred to it as the public execution of old jalopies. Some old cars were driven to the field while others were pushed and pulled. This late November annual pilgrimage included an unofficial parade of jalopies traveling along Main Street headed for the great benefit bonfire.
The event was sponsored each year by the Concord Automobile Dealers Association. They
managed it well as they gathered the old jalopies closely together and doused them with a flammable liquid. A match was struck and the crowd erupted in a common cheer as the fire grew in intensity. The cold night warmed, the darkness grew bright with flames as the audience huddled closely. Mesmerized by the flaming jalopies, people found time to forget about their concerns, at least for the moment. This event was not just an event that was conducted for entertainment or disposal of old cars, it was a benefit bonfire that we enjoyed. Proceeds from the scrap metal were turned over to the Concord Community Chest and the funds were distributed to families in need in the Concord area.
I will always remember a story my mother told me years ago. She was in high school when her best friend was gifted an old car. They both graduated in the class of 1951. Her friend’s car was certainly a jalopy but it was a wonderful gift. My mother and her friend would drive all around town. But when a group of boys were sighted down on Main Street, my mother said she would always duck down under the dashboard to hide. She said she didn’t want to be seen in that old jalopy. Those old memories still bring a smile to her face and a chuckle as she tells and retells those stories.
Life was simpler back then and people would gather to support the cause, be it a jalopy bonfire or a barn raising. Kindness was pure and nothing was expected in return. I can only imagine gathering many cars together and igniting them in the name of a local nonprofit today. But it was fun and enjoyable and everyone had a great night out in the field as the jalopies burned. They cheered, they laughed and they always remembered the “Junked Jalopy Bonfire.”