“Grandpa, what’s that?” My four-year-old grandson asked as he patted the old, pitted chrome ’56 Chevy hood ornament mounted on my riding lawnmower. “Well, that’s called a hood bird. Come with me, I’ll tell you about it.”
I lowered the open the hood of my ’57 Belair and pointed to the wind splits.
He stood on Uncle Larry’s wooden box stool and watched as I explained.
“This is a 1957 Chevy and these two things are called “wind-splits.” The hood bird on the
lawnmower is from a car that is one year older than this one, a 1956 Chevy. It didn’t have wind splits, it had the hood bird instead and it goes right here,” I said as I patted the front center of the hood.
This is a special moment for a grandpa. I was surprised at the rush of sentimental feelings it brought – sentimental about what? My grandson may or may not remember details from this lesson, but maybe one day years from now when he sees a car of this vintage he will remember me.