Fort Worth’s ‘oldest car’ still in pristine shape after almost 100 years

A short-lived TV sitcom of the 1960s was based on the premise that a man’s mother is reincarnated as the family car, a 1928 Porter. The show died a quick death, but the idea of a spiritual connection between a man’s mother and a car is not so far-fetched. It describes Cliff Magers, Mattie Magers, and a 1927 Chevrolet that was practically a family member for many years.

If you still own a 1980s or ‘90s gas-guzzler, you’re not even close to owning Fort Worth’s oldest car. The vehicle holding that title is not a classic, restored 1965 Ford Mustang or 1966 Pontiac GTO, but a 1927 Chevy coupe that still has its original engine and most of the original parts. It was built and purchased from the Chevrolet plant right here in Fort Worth. The four-cylinder vehicle was Chevrolet’s answer to the Ford’s Model A that came out the same year. It cost $795 off the showroom floor, but the buyer did not pay that for it.

This car was a gift to Mattie Pettigrew Magers from her son Clifton W. “Cliff” Magors (1900-1987), owner of Northside Chevrolet near the Stockyards. (That original building at 23rd and North Main is still standing.) One of Fort Worth’s most successful car dealers and a Chamber of Commerce “Businessman of the Year,” he was also marshal of the Southwestern Exposition and Fat Stock Show for many years. He had no way of knowing the vehicle he gave his mother would be her prized possession for the next 30 years. She was still driving it regularly when she died in 1957. The only major repair on it she ever had to do was a “motor overhaul” in 1940 that cost her $78.46. Otherwise, all she ever did was change the oil, keep the radiator filled, and replace the tires occasionally. It still had the original spare tire in 1948.

That was the year the Fort Worth Press recognized the car as the city’s oldest automobile still in daily use, a title it bestowed after running a contest among its readers. It was a way to highlight surging car sales after World War II. No one could buy a new car during the war, and as soon as Detroit geared up again for peacetime production, people wanted to trade in the old jalopy for a new set of wheels. But not Mattie. Why get rid of a perfectly good automobile? It had once taken her to Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, and home again. Press columnist Jack Gordon said 77-year-old Magers and her 22-year-old car were both “still going strong.” The story included a photo of the proud owner and her set of wheels. As the winner of the contest, she won a new set of tires, a new paint job (which she didn’t use), new seat covers, and 50 gallons of gas. It was such a feel-good story Chevrolet could have used it as an advertising campaign for how reliable its cars were.

The car never sat in the garage. Besides taking it to church every Sunday, Mattie used it for trips to Wichita Falls to visit relatives and to Eagle Mountain Lake with her lady friends to go fishing. And looking ahead to Jan and Dean’s “Little Old Lady from Pasadena” (1966), she liked to drive fast. “It doesn’t really start to percolate,” she said, until it gets up to 40 mph.

The car remained in the family until it was sold to an antique car collector in 1963. It returned to the family in 1997 and has been shown in numerous antique car shows ever since. With its shiny chrome and original gray paint job, it never fails to attract an appreciative crowd. The car passed into the hands of a close friend after the death of Mattie’s grandson, Ricky Magors (1947-2016). Though no longer in the family’s possession, it is still affectionately known as “Mother Magers.”

The car has always been a prized family member. Mattie Magers even wrote a heartfelt poem to her precious:

I love you, my little Chevy

For all the things you’ve done.

When other cars were stopping,

You have never failed to run.

You have climbed up Lookout Mountain.

You have brought me down its side.

You have never failed to take me

Where anyone else could ride.

On each Sunday morning

I touch you with my toe.

You start humming your little tune,

And off to church we go.

When the services are over

And we are homeward bound,

I never worry a minute.

I know we will make the round.

When I look upon your coat of gray

I can see you are growing old.

You have been everything to me.

You are worth your weight in gold.

She signed it, “Lovingly your mistress.”

Mattie, Cliff, and Ricky are all buried in little Burke Cemetery on Bryant-Irvin Road, which dates to 1867.

The car’s owner, Jim Bailey, keeps it in pristine shape, hoping to someday gift it to the Texas Cowboy Hall of Fame and Sterquell Wagon Collection in the Stockyards where it would join Amon Carter’s Cadillac. Everyone who knows its story wants the car to remain in Fort Worth forever. This has been its home since 1927.

Author-historian Richard Selcer is a Fort Worth native and proud graduate of Paschal High and TCU.