Ford Model AA Trucks

When Henry Ford finally got over his “any color as long as it’s black” phase and introduced the Model A in late 1927, I imagine a collective sigh of relief swept through America. Here, at last, was a car that could be ordered in colors with names so fancy you’d think you were buying a necktie instead of a family automobile. Bonnie Gray, Andalusite Blue, Chicle Drab, Copra Drab—these sounded more like things you’d hear in a Paris boutique than in Uncle Lester’s barn where he stored his squirrel traps.

Naturally, the first problem with paint colors is that nobody outside the Ford factory had the slightest idea what they really looked like. “Andalusite Blue” could be a dazzling ocean shade—or it could look exactly like the inside of a coal bucket. And when your neighbor proudly announced his new Fordor was finished in “Chicle Drab and Copra Drab,” the polite response was not, “What’s drab about it?” but rather a quiet nod followed by, “Yes, that is indeed a color.”

Shade tree mechanics, of course, are not known for their color coordination. Most of us are satisfied when all four fenders are at least attached to the car at the same time, regardless of hue. Over the years I’ve seen more than one Model A that looked as if it had been assembled from the spare parts section of a carnival ride. I’ve even owned a few. “Patina” is the modern term. Back then, we called it “Couldn’t afford paint.”

One of the great joys of the Model A hobby today is trying to argue with absolute certainty about what shade “Washington Blue” really was in 1930. My friends will bring out dusty paint chips, faded brochures, and highly suspect memories from their grandfathers who “swore up and down” the car was maroon. Meanwhile, I nod wisely while secretly thinking that my father’s old A was some shade of “Whatever the hardware store had on sale.”

Truth be told, Ford’s paint choices were quite handsome when new. A freshly restored Model A with the correct scheme gleams with a kind of understated dignity. Still, the temptation for us backyard painters is always to improve on perfection. I once considered spraying my Model AA truck in “John Deere Green” on the theory that a truck should look like it belongs in a field. My wife, Stacie, advised against it, noting that while Henry Ford may have been many things, he was not in the tractor business.

In the end, whether your Model A is done in Copra Drab, Bonnie Gray, Andalusite Blue—or three different shades of primer and a rattle-can touch-up—it still turns heads and sparks conversations. After all, the real color of a Model A is “Memory.”