I don’t know much about the old Cotton Club that was so famous in the Harlem Renaissance, but I do know that the one that’s sitting on 125th street isn’t the one you’re thinking of. It got built in ’78 and the name only cashes in on the old glory of the bygone original.
And this ’66 Suburban cashes in on fond feelings of the past, too. For one thing, it’s just huge. This Chevy must be the biggest two-door I’ve ever seen; it was a challenge to fit the whole thing in the frame when I went climbing around on the back staircases of the Cotton Club. I see it there most times I go by. They both have well-worn histories and a well-worn look. They also share the same kind of presence that is both hard to stop staring at and hard to take a picture of.
I don’t really know anything about this 1966 Chevrolet. I don’t really know anything about the Cotton Club either. They still both make me really feel something.