The first care I ever drove with any kind of regularity was a Ford Thunderbird. That big, blue piece of crap is the source of my hate of Fords since. However, I can admit when something is pretty.
I keep seeing this care in the underground parking by the grocery store.
It probably belongs to someone working there. The other day the garage was empty enough that I could take pictures without other cars blocking my view.
Ford was probably trying to conjure the image of genteel landowners from the old country. I dunno. I'd have to ask my royalist friends if this is something they could imagine their gentry back in the fifties.
Now, that's what I call a tail light. And check out that wood paneling.