Bob Schmeling and Kent Brooks Shag the Drag in a Black 1960 VW Beetle — Fort Dodge, 1968

Last updated on 17 Apr 2026

Some memories don’t feel like they belong to a calendar—they feel like they belong to a sound. For Bob Schmeling and Kent Brooks, 1968 still hums with the particular music of a Volkswagen engine behind you, Fort Dodge lights ahead, and the steady, patient crawl of Central Avenue when everyone you knew was out “shagging the drag.”

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Bob Schmeling and Kent Brooks Go Back In Time To 1968 To "Shag The Drag" In Fort Dodge IA In Bob's Black 1960 Volkswagen Beetle With A "Playboy Bunny Logo" On The Side Of The Car Bob Schmeling and Kent Brooks both are proudly wearing their 1968 Fort Dodge High School Dodgers Letterman Jackets while riding in the car! The 1960 Volkswagen Beetle is a classic icon often found in its original black factory finish. This year marked several subtle but important refinements to the "Bug," including a move to more user-friendly push-button door handles and a recessed steering wheel for improved safety. Key Specifications & Features Engine & Power: Features a rear-mounted 1,192cc (1.2L) air-cooled flat-four engine producing 36 horsepower, paired with a 4-speed manual transmission. 1960 Updates: Exterior: Introduction of push-button door handles (replacing pull-type) and the first year for the updated Wolfsburg Crest emblem on the front hood. Interior: Recontoured seat backs and a safer, recessed steering wheel. Electrical: Increased generator output from 160 to 180 watts. Factory Colors: Black was a standard option alongside colors like Ruby Red, Pastel Blue, Beryl Green, and Pearl White. Market & Pricing (As of April 2026) The value of a 1960 Beetle varies significantly based on its condition and whether it is a hardtop or convertible: Project Cars: Non-running or rusted examples can start between $500 and $3,000. Solid Drivers: Well-maintained, road-ready versions typically range from $10,000 to $20,500. Restored/Collector Grade: Pristine examples or rare convertibles can reach $27,500 to $42,000+ at auction. --------------------------------- "Shagging the drag" was a cornerstone of social life for teenagers and young adults in Fort Dodge, Iowa, particularly during the 1950s, 60s, and 70s. It was a vibrant cruising tradition where people drove their cars up and down the town's main streets to socialize and show off their vehicles. The Route and Tradition The standard route involved driving Central Avenue, circling the City Square, and heading back east. Key Turnaround Points: Drivers often used the parking lots of The State Bank or the Silver Fox Restaurant to turn around and start their loop again. Traffic Conditions: On weekend nights, traffic was often bumper-to-bumper; a single loop could take 15 to 20 minutes because Central Avenue was so packed. Socializing: The "drag" was where people met friends, listened to loud car stereos, and occasionally engaged in impromptu drag racing. History and Evolution While it peaked in the mid-20th century, the tradition persisted through the early 1990s until a city curfew for minors and restrictions on parking at the square in the mid-90s effectively ended the era. Legacy Events: Today, the tradition is celebrated through nostalgia-based events like the Shag the Drag Summer Run

The car that made the night feel possible

It’s hard to overstate what it meant to roll through town in Bob Schmeling’s black 1960 Volkswagen Beetle—not some anonymous ride, but a Beetle marked with a Playboy bunny logo on the side, like a wink to anyone close enough to notice. It wasn’t just transportation; it was a calling card. In a place where everyone knew everyone, that little detail would have done what the best details always do: start conversations before either of you even opened the door.

The Beetle itself brought its own kind of confidence. With the engine tucked in back and that familiar air-cooled chatter, the car didn’t need to roar to be heard. It had a steady, friendly stubbornness—36 horsepower that wasn’t trying to be the fastest thing on Central Avenue, just the most unforgettable thing rolling by at exactly the right time.

Letterman jackets and the weight of being seen

Bob Schmeling and Kent Brooks wearing their 1968 Fort Dodge High School Dodgers letterman jackets inside that Beetle is the sort of image that sticks because it’s equal parts pride and armor. A jacket like that says you belong somewhere. And on nights like those, when the square was full and every loop brought a new set of eyes, belonging mattered.

Two young men in Dodgers letterman jackets ride in a black 1960 Volkswagen Beetle while cruising Fort Dodge’s Central Avenue at night in 1968. — Bob Schmeling and Kent Brooks, 1968—Dodgers jackets on, Central Avenue ahead, the Beetle carrying the whole night.

There’s also something quietly perfect about the contrast: the neat, official feeling of those jackets against the playful swagger of the bunny logo. It reads like two sides of being a teenager—wanting to be recognized for what you’ve earned, and wanting to be recognized for who you’re becoming.

Central Avenue, the square, and the slow dance of traffic

“Shag the drag” wasn’t about getting somewhere. Bob Schmeling and Kent Brooks were already where they needed to be—right in the middle of Fort Dodge’s weekend heartbeat. Central Avenue, the loop around the City Square, the long, patient crawl that could stretch a single pass into fifteen or twenty minutes when the street turned bumper-to-bumper. That kind of traffic sounds like a problem until you realize it was the point: time made room for faces, for waves, for the small thrill of spotting someone and being spotted back.

And the turnarounds weren’t just logistics—they were rituals. The State Bank lot. The Silver Fox Restaurant. Places that became part of the choreography, where you’d swing the wheel and reset the night, the way you might flip a record back to the start because you weren’t ready for it to end.

Details that only matter because it was your car

There’s a tenderness in remembering the specifics of a machine, especially one tied to a certain season of life. Bob Schmeling’s 1960 Beetle had the push-button door handles—small, practical, almost modest. It also had that recessed steering wheel, a quiet nod to safety that didn’t feel like a lecture, just a design choice you only appreciate later, after you’ve lived long enough to know how quickly a night can turn.

Even the small electrical upgrade—more generator output—feels like it belongs in the memory because of what it enabled: headlights holding steady as the evening deepened, dashboard glow staying faithful while you eased along the drag, the whole cabin lit just enough to catch the blue-and-white of those Dodgers jackets when you glanced over at each other.

What survives

Time has a way of closing down the places we thought would always be there. The era of the drag eventually got boxed in by rules and curfews and the slow changing of a town’s rhythms. But that doesn’t touch what Bob Schmeling and Kent Brooks carried out of 1968: the feeling of being young in Fort Dodge on the exact kind of night that seemed endless, sealed inside the shape of a black Beetle and the easy certainty of a friend beside you.

And maybe that’s why this memory lands with such force now. Not because the car is valuable—though people love to attach numbers to old things—but because the real worth was always the scene: the roll of tires on Central Avenue, the square ahead, the loop beginning again, and two guys in letterman jackets realizing, without saying it out loud, that this is what they’ll remember.

Photos from the Memory