Another year is gone, and I haven’t published a single car feature. This album has every cruise night I attended this summer. The crop of cars this year were great as they always are. I had opportunity to photograph some really nice antiques and hot rods. The Frankfort Car Club and the Chamber of Commerce sponsor Cruise Night as a weekly event on Thursday evenings throughout the summer. Attendance is very good on balmy summer evenings. This summer we had a disproportionate amount Thursdays when it threatened to rain. Rain always keeps the cars and the crowds at home. Some of the nights were too hot to walk around, even in the evening.
Yesterday, after supper I took a long walk into town. I went by way of the mushroom water tower on route thirty and then south to the Old Plank Road Trail. I arrived in historic Frankfort and saw the remnants of cruise night. At least what was left of cruise night. It was after seven when I ambled into town and the sun was only a glow of pink in the western sky. There were still a few die-hard car guys sitting around chatting in front of their hot-rods. There were about six in all. Too dark to take pictures I thought. I kept walking to Oak Street and Kansas. There across the street was Francesca’s Fortunato restaurant lit up with mini-lights. Patrons sat on the new sidewalk seating area enjoying the warm humid evening while eating and drinking with friends. Neat, I thought to myself as I continued to walk. Then the same scene unfolded in front of the Smokey-Barq restaurant on the opposite corner. I’ve got to take a picture I told myself. I will be sorry if I don’t at least try. Besides, what have I got to lose, a few electrons? The only camera was in my phone. What the heck, point and shoot. Surprise, an image froze on the screen. That started me thinking about another photo essay on Frankfort.
Here are the few pictures I took.
Smokey Barq with a crowd of patrons in the outdoor seating on balmy September evening.
Smokey Barq specializes in barb-b-que recipes and sauces from around the United States.
Frankfort Bowling Alley with six lanes and a billiard parlor is on the second floor. On the first floor, just below are several shops. One of the most unique and popular is the Dog Barkery.
The Granary Tower is a village landmark. It is the only original part of the old post and beam granary building that burned in the 1970’s.
The Trolley Barn on White Street at Kansas in low setting sunlight. It is dark enough to have the lights on.
Inside the Trolley Barn a single business is still open and busy.
A group guitar class underway in Down Home Guitars.
Pricey guitars on display in the “for serious buyers only” room.
The Frankfort Deli in the Trolley Barn. The Deli is one of the oldest businesses in town run by a Mom and Pop.
That’s all folks.
You may read my writing about Frankfort, many times I whine about the high cost of living and the latest infra-structure improvement we don’t need, but overall I love this little (16550 souls) town, and will most likely be buried from here.
Our first visit to Frankfort Cruise night was a huge disappointment. Usually, the place is jammed with cars. Hot Rodders begin streaming in as early as two o’clock to get a prime spot. The parking lots, and streets are all filled with classics. People come from all around just to gawk, talk to the owners, and to enjoy a pleasant summer night out. This night there was but a smattering of cars, and even fewer people.
Why? All I can figure is that our record setting temperature of 103 degrees did it. The heat was oppressive, and we got there too early. The sun was still too high to get any good pictures.
I snapped a few photos before Peggy and I escaped into the new ice cream shop called Mamma Rosetta’s for a peach gelato. Next week promises to be a better day. How did that song go from the musical Lil Orphan Annie, “tomorrow, tomorrow, it’s always a day away. . . .”
There is something about nineteen thirty-two and thirty-four vintage Ford hot rods that turns me on. It must be related to the fact that those were the most predominant cars of my childhood. My dad never owned a Ford of that vintage but some of my neighbors did. Back then very few neighbors owned a car.
Maybe it is because as a lad of ten, I watched a seventeen year old kid who lived at the alley end of the block build a thirty-four three window coupé into a hot rod. He even took it to Bonneville and had a brass plaque proclaiming his ninety-three mph run. What ever it is, these cars turn me on. There is nothing more beautiful than a hot thirty-four coupé or a deuce sportster.
Here is a collection of the finest cars that visit Frankfort’s Cruise Night.
