“Del Rey” means “the king’s” in Spanish. “Delray” is a neighborhood in Detroit. The Chevrolet Delray was the cheapest Chevy offered in 1958, even below the Biscayne, but the first Chevrolet Delray, as seen on these pages, was a premium version of the 1954 Two-Ten-series—a worthy Club Coupe, despite its body being shared with the plainer two-door sedan. That was a change from the visually similar 1953 model year, when the Club Coupe had been a true coupe, replete with close-coupled roofline and longer decklid.
In fact, the word “Delray” never appears on this car. Brochures called it the Club Coupe, but magazine ads used the name—quirky spelling and all. The fancy, mid-price Chevy existed through 1957. They’re best remembered, when they are, for their proprietary all-vinyl interior.
How this Surf Green Delray came to exist is lost to time. Maybe it was foisted on some unwilling dealer as a part of the 1953-’54 sales war that saw Ford claim top producer of 1954 cars, but Chevrolet claim top sales for the same year. That it survives, partially restored, is a testament to a near-identical, long-gone car that was sitting on a used-car lot in Nashville, Tennesee, in January of 1959. Tom Haglage was home on leave from the U.S. Navy, “a newly minted Petty Officer,” and about to marry his high-school girlfriend Mary Paul Unland. The newlyweds would need a car to return west, to where his ship was homeported in San Diego, and his father-in-law had promised
