In the 1950s, the formation of hot rod organizations like the National Hot Rod Association (NHRA) was an important step toward respectability, but much work needed to be done. When night fell and cruisers gathered at the drive-ins, the scene often became loud and rowdy, and sometimes got out of control.

This caused concern for city fathers, police, and neighboring residents. Street racing was a frequent occurrence, and so were accidents. It was illegal, dangerous, exciting, and fun -- a sure cocktail for disaster. But this wasn't the only thing drawing the ire of parents and the constabulary.

Some hot rodders and custom car owners adopted a look, brought back with them from the war. They wore leather jackets, blue jeans, and T-shirts with cigarette packs rolled into sleeves. It has become a cliché, but at the time it was meant to convey an antisocial, edgy distinction from what was acceptable. The look was part of the point of the whole hot rod and custom car phenomenon: To create a different lifestyle for adolescents from that of their parents. It was teenage rebellion. It was the beginning of the youth culture.

Though similar in appearance and ideology, there were differences between hot rodders and custom car owners. Hot rodders bought their parts from speed shops and performed most of the work on their cars themselves. The custom car crowd sought out the expertise of shops that performed mild-to-wild body alterations. And therein lies the difference and the rub.

Some rodders felt disdain for custom cars because they were "low and slow" and most of the work was performed by outside shops, not the owners themselves. They derided custom cars as "lead barges" or "lead sleds" due to their sometimes abundant use of lead as a body filler.

Custom car owners shot back at hot rodders with names like "shot rods" and "Ricky racers." Rodders tended to be "gearheads" that weren't as interested in the aesthetics of their cars as custom car fans. Custom guys concentrated on looks and cared little for performance. These two groups are intertwined in our modern view of their activities, but they were actually quite different and could be antagonistic toward each other.

Some feel that the custom car was a direct offshoot of the hot rod. That view doesn't jibe with the vastly different approaches the two factions had toward their cars. Yes, some rodders drove custom cars and vice versa, but it wasn't the norm. Owning two cars was beyond the reach of most hard-working young men. And the abilities required to master engine and chassis modifications, as well as body customizing and fabrication, were rarely found in a single person, or even among a whole peer group.

That's where the custom car shops came in. Barris Kustoms was the best known of the early custom shops. Located in Lynwood, California, the shop was in what some call "the nest" for its concentration of custom-related enterprises. Gaylord's Custom Upholstery, which specialized in Carson-type tops, was just around the corner from Barris Kustoms, and Larry Watson, Ed Schelhaas, and Dean Jeffries were also located within the nest.

Also in the L.A.-area were Link Paola, Jimmy Summers, the Carson Top Shop, Gil and Al Ayala, and Valley Custom. Northern California had its players, too. Gene Winfield operated out of Modesto, and Joe Bailon and Joe Wilhelm worked in the Bay Area.

By the mid 1950s, Dean Jeffries, Von Dutch, Ed "Big Daddy" Roth, Junior Conway, Dick Jackson, and Larry Watson were all plying their custom painting and/or pinstriping talents either at Barris' or within the nest. Some, like Von Dutch, were already established names, and the rest would become famous in the custom car world as the '50s progressed.

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