This is pretty obviously not a real car, let alone cream-colored with a green interior. Remove all that writing and the Continental kit, call it pale yellow instead of white, green up the seats, and it's close . . .

Model Quest Rating for this item:   .933

                Make        Model      Year         Color            Detail/Scale       Gestalt       Rating
Original    Ford         Conv.        1953        Yellow                                                        
Sample       10             10          1953  10   White  8          1:43  10              8             56/60

To the best of my knowledge and recollection, there is just one photo (previously misplaced) of the actual car, a 3½" by 5" black and white number shot in front of the family home on Monteith, up the street from USC. Some kind of "...Hills" community. Holmby? It's now an upscale African-American enclave. When my family lived there the house across the street was owned by Harry Belafonte. At least that is what the realtor told them.

(View Park, just north of Windsor Hills) (The Los Angeles Times Sunday edition of 07-19-2015, California section, has a front-page story calling View Park "The Black Beverly Hills". There is apparently a move to add it to the register of Historic Places, as it is 84% black. Some are proud to have such an honor bestowed; others fear the accolade will encourage whites to move in and ruin the spirit of the place.)

(WIKIPedia: "On July 12, 2016 View Park was listed on the National Register of Historic Places, an initiative led by View Park Conservancy in which almost 700 View Park residents donated over $100,000 to complete the historic work needed to complete the neighborhood's nomination. View Park is the largest National Register historic district in the Country based on African American and county history, and the largest in California in terms of total property owners.")

Frank Lloyd Wright had a hand in the house's design, they said. It had a sun porch overlooking an extensive garden running down a hill, a resident Scrub Jay missing the top half of its bill, and indirect lighting in the living room. The garage was in kind of a basement, stairs from its inside door led to a hallway, forming a perfect reservoir for fumes whenever a car entered or left.

I have only the vaguest of memories of the rest of the house's layout. I was in the Air Force when the family moved there and spent just a few days in it, not many more hours than my friends, who visited in my absence.

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