Like many young lads in the 1950s, Bill Layman fell under the spell of the burgeoning hot rod and custom movement. He may have been hooked harder than most considering his dad's Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, body shop specialized in customs and hot rods. From the time he turned 12 in 1953, Bill spent much of his free time there.

It's pretty easy to change a vehicle's style. Do a little cutting and welding here, some parts swapping there, and you're bound to make any car look different. Making tasteful and purposeful changes is a bit more challenging, however; it requires talent and restraint to truly enhance a car's design.

When it comes to choosing a custom car project, it's hard to go wrong with a 1959 model anything. American auto design reached a zenith of bizarre styling that year, fueled by heated competition, aeronautical influences, and the nation's race to space. Fins grew bigger, bodies longer and wider, and ornamentation as intricate as ever, culminating in bold designs that were definitely not for the faint of heart.

Custom Rodder has profiled many significant car builders and vehicles in this column the past several years. For our finale issue, however, it's only fitting to share the history of the man behind the National Rod & Custom Car Hall of Fame Museum, Darryl Starbird.

Wonder Wagon"I am not a famous guy, but I thought you would be interested in one of my rare rides," writes Stuart Clark, of Chehalis, Washington. Rare, indeed-Chevrolet didn't build a two-door Impala station wagon in 1959, though Stuart's longroof has been decked out in Impala attire. It also wears Indigo Blue and Viper Silver paint, gray tweed upholstery, and 17- and 18-inch American Torq-Thrust wheels. Mechanical updates include power steering, disc brakes, dropped spindles, and a 468ci big-block backed by a TH350. "Just when you think you have seen all Chevy models," Stuart says, "this low, sleek ride comes cruising by and people say, 'Man, where did that come from!'"

'49 Chevy FleetlineLet's get this "Stylines" sendoff started in style with a classy Chevy. The Fleetline has such a nice profile that I left the roof unchopped, though I deleted all the trim except for the top-accentuating beltline brightwork. Up front I inserted a floating '54 Chevy grille flanked by frenched headlights, with the bumper stanchions shortened to provide a 1-inch seam between the body and bumper. The rear fenders are extended and carved out to accept custom taillight lenses-kind of a cross between '56 Buick and '56 Packard-in handmade bezels. Let's spray it a vivid Tahition Red over a silver base to make it glow.

One of the things that makes old customs so unique is each has its own singular saga behind it. As these cars change hands, their individual history begins to fade, and all that's left is the car itself. There are a few occasions, however, when the builder of a '50s custom is reunited with his creation a half-century after he first took torch to metal and can personally relate how he built it. This was one of those times.

So-called "contemporary" customs have gone through many phases in the past two decades, from the "dipped" monochromatic look to the pastel-painted, tweed-interior fad to recent styles with big-inch billet wheels and airbag suspensions. While aspects of each trend linger, we're seeing more traditional influences in today's contemporary customs. Chrome bumpers are again in vogue, as are shiny grilles and polished side trim. Richer colors have made comebacks too, along with softer-looking interiors.

Not all '50s cars were born cool. Sure, some started looking good over the years and others earned their keep as alternatives to the mainstream. A few even endeared themselves as loveable ugly ducklings. Then there's the Kaiser sedan.

In Greek mythology, Pandora's Box represents a fundamental human temptation. Opening it was prohibited by the gods, but the desire to reveal its contents proved too enticing for Pandora, who released misery and chaos into the world by lifting the lid.

Though it would be hard to prove, we're willing to wager that there are more chopped '49-51 Mercurys today than there ever were in the '50s. In fact, we're pretty sure chopped versions now outnumber those with stock lids, and sometimes wonder if any original examples survive.

Gary "Chopit" Fioto is a self-taught metal artist who has been perfecting his technique since the tender age of 12. Now in his 50s, he has spent more than three quarters of his life creating automotive and motorcycle masterpieces. Gary is a designer who does not use a drawing board, but instead creates show-winning automotive art from images in his mind. His work has been the subject of dozens of magazine feature articles and he has regularly shared the winner's platform with some of the scene's top players. His personal ride, the wild bubbletop dubbed Beatnik, won the big-ticket Go For The Gold award at Darryl Starbird's Tulsa show in February 2006.

You might think someone who buys and sells cars for a living would view all vehicles as mere commodities-merchandise on which to make a profit. We're sure that's the case for some car dealers, but we've also met quite a few who are true enthusiasts and keep handfuls (sometimes fleets) of cool personal rides stashed away in private collections. So where does a car dealer go when he wants a special-order ride? When he's John Sullivan-owner of John L. Sullivan Chevrolet in Roseville, California-he turns to the bearded one: Boyd Coddington.

If you've been inducted into a fraternity like the National Rod and Custom Car Hall of Fame, it means you've accomplished something. Most folks don't make it into even one Hall of Fame, so what about someone who has gained admission into five? You might think you'd never know someone with those kind of credentials, but you'd be wrong-just about everybody knows Gene Winfield.

Eight Ball Dodge"The year was 1958, and I was cruising around the Chicago area in my '53 Dodge Coronet," writes Arthur Schultz. The car was Arthur's first, a gift from his uncle. "My uncle gave it to me because it was broken down by the side of the road," Arthur recalls. "My father, grandfather, and I went to get it. With a few tools and a set of jumper cables, we got the Dodge running-all it needed was a new battery." Arthur's friends helped him fix it up by lowering the suspension, adding wide whitewalls, Olds hubcaps, cruiser skirts, and shaving the hood and trunk before spraying on fresh black paint. "1958 was a great year for me," Arthur concludes. We can see why.

I had been itching to do a traditional, non-billet, non-tech car for some time, and had this '56 Dodge racing around in my head for months. That got me to thinking about other non-Chevy Tri-Fives ('55-57 models), so I whipped together a slick '56 Ford companion.

It's Good To Have Friends In High Places.

Think for a moment about the terminology you hear when discussing custom cars. The hobby has, in a way, been upgraded, to borrow a buzzword. Builders used to talk about making parts; now those components are custom fabricated. Paint was mixed years ago, but now it's blended. Those of us who chronicle this hobby gladly employ such words and phrases to add color and spice to stories.

It's Good To Have Friends In High Places. Chad Walen's buddy, Lee Breckheimer, was a crop duster in North Dakota who often used his lofty views to scout out old cars for Chad and his uncle. "He found everything you can imagine," Chad says, "from a '34 Ford Tudor sedan, to '48-53 Chevy trucks, Nashes, Buicks, Pontiacs, etc. Back on the ground, we would all jump in the truck and go find them."

Cool as they are, there are many reasons not to build '63-65 Rivieras these days. Much like '49-51 Mercs, you can argue that the best ones have already been built, and attempting to one-up prior examples will just ruin the car's natural good looks. Furthermore, those clean, Bill Mitchell-penned factory lines make it easy to contend that the best custom Rivs are mild ones, of which there are many.

Roger and Marie O'Dell are the consummate Southern California car enthusiast couple. Roger grew up in the custom hotbed of Bellflower in the late '50s and early '60s, and since then has dabbled in all aspects of the hobby-rods, customs, restos, and even drag racing. His Bellflower background and long-term membership in the Sultans car club mean he's eminently connected, and he can cite guys like Larry Watson, Steve Stanford, and Sam Foose as friends.

For all the talk about custom enthusiasts being "lost in the '50s," in reality many aficionados today never experienced that decade. Kirby Wilcox is representative of those who grew up in the '60s (or later) and prefer more performance-edged cruisers.

Attention, Custom Rodder readers! Do not mistake this slick '55 Ford Ranch Wagon for a show car. It's a daily driver. Come rain, come shine, and yes, even come snow, Donny Seyfer cruises his mod-motored wagon around Wheat Ridge, Colorado.

Growing up in Brighton, Massachusetts, in the late '60s, Mike Murray was drawn to the musclecar scene thanks to numerous vicious street machines tearing up his town's streets. Although these cars possessed demonic power, they lacked the graceful lines worn by another style of car Mike fell for: customs. For years his passion gravitated between the two, until eventually he realized the seemingly different styles could be combined-true horsepower and handling packaged in artistic custom style. As the years passed, he began gathering up a fleet of '50s and '60s Fords (eight so far) that he plans to rebuild into killer custom rods.

When talking flames, certain names invariably pop up: Jeffries, Dutch, and Watson, to name a few. While those guys were setting the standards with crab claws and seaweed flame designs, a teenager and nascent car nut keenly watched their actions. Little did they know-or did he know for that matter-that this car-hungry California kid would ultimately become one of the foremost flame-painting practitioners and northern California customizers. That kid was Rod Powell.