Memory Lane – Hudson Commodore

By Roger Boylan


My recent week-long road test of a Chrysler Sebring convertible revived faint memories of another American convertible I once knew, long ago: a 1949 Hudson Commodore.

This boat-like conveyance, quite upscale for the time, boasted Hudson’s then-famous straight-six engine, the finest, creamiest powerplant from the finest American car manufacturer of the day after Lincoln and Studebaker. An off-white Commodore convertible very much like the one in the picture, with red leather interior, three on the tree, and all-tube in-dash radio, belonged to my mother. It transported us in the ’50s up and down the East Coast, from New York and Delaware, where most relatives were, to Miami, Florida, where my father was trying his hand at running a radio station and my mother was a freelance journalist.

She always drove the Hudson; Dad disdained it, I don’t remember why. Of course, he was never less than quirky in his automotive tastes, once owning a Morris, a Fiat, and an MG at the same time, a less-than-brilliant deployment of unreliable resources that guaranteed frequent paralysis of his entire car fleet. But back in the ’50s, along the palm-lined boulevards of burgeoning Miami, he drove a little blue-and-white Nash Rambler, itself boasting Hudson DNA; in 1954, the Nash-Kelvinator Corporation and Hudson united to form American Motors Corporation. Then, in ’57, the Hudson brand disappeared altogether and AMC went on to dizzying heights (Jeep) and depths (the Pacer). By that time we were resident in Paris, where Dad was trying his hand at something else, not radio stations.

Officially, now that time has orphaned me, the Hudson is now mine, but I have no idea where it is, or even if it still exists. All I know is that I was never informed of its demise. Placed in storage in Delaware by my father in the ’70s, its documentation disappeared over the course of the deaths and upheavals and relocations of the intervening years. I saw it once, in the late ’70s, not long after returning to the U.S. At the time, it was in surprisingly good condition, with no tires or battery, of course, but leather upholstery un-torn, paint still intact, and solid moving parts. So there it may yet sit, in the cobwebby darkness of an anonymous storage unit, awaiting the deliverance that will probably only come with the wrecker’s ball. Too bad; restored, it would look good on a Hollywood back lot.

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Author: Roger Boylan

Aside from being the only Autosavant writer with a Wikipedia page, Roger Boylan is an American writer who was raised in Ireland, France, and Switzerland and attended the University of Ulster and the University of Edinburgh. His novel “Killoyle” was published in 1997 by Dalkey Archive Press and has been reprinted four times. In 2003, a sequel, “The Great Pint-Pulling Olympiad,” was published by Grove Press, New York. Roger’s latest novel, “The Adorations,” in which a Swiss professor named Gustave, Adolf Hitler, Hitler’s mistress, the Archangel Michael, and a journalistic sexpot meet at the intersection of history and fantasy, has been published as an e-book and is now available on and other online bookstores. Boylan's light-hearted memoir, "Run Like Blazes," has also been published as a Kindle e-book and is also now available on

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  1. My two year old knows a tiny bit about Hudsons thanks to the movie Cars; just last night, he was playing with a Doc Hudson toy car, and asking me to make him talk.

  2. My uncle has a Hudson, but unlike the one in the story, his is perfect. I think he puts about 600 miles a year on it. Nice road car as long as you don’t need to stop suddenly and the road is a straight one. It just sort of levitates above the road as you go along. I think Hudsons were noted for their handling in the era in which they were produced, because they were much lower to the ground than other cars. But that was a long, long time ago. It is a big boat now.

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