Car Dads and Their Sons

Not a car dad yet but will be. My family isn't really into cars and if they are its strictly american cars. My dad had a thunderbird and trans am when I was a kid since then he's drove trucks/suvs I miss when I was a kid...haha

 

Bravo!

 

BRAVO indeed!

 

Cars have always been there. A photo of my father and uncle as teens posing with hunting gear and their 24 Buick hangs in my office. They were car guys from day one. Perhaps it's a genetic thing...

My earliest car memory is finding Easter eggs in Dad's 1927 Model T roadster. I must have been about 3. Not long after that I began sanding and degreasing parts for his 1909 Buick and polishing his daily driver, a black XK150. Easy tasks at first, then more and more complicated tasks. My god, we spent hours and hours at this - weekends, week nights, holidays. We belonged to a couple car clubs and went to shows and on tours as well. Eventually each car was finished and replaced with new projects. At fourteen I began restoring a 1915 Model T using parts we had lying around - it took 4 years.

I wish that I could say that all these hours were filled with warm 'spielbergian' moments - it wasn't like that. It was hard work and we often disagreed about how to do things. My father was an engineer. He worked on defense and space projects. One would have expected that he’d approach auto restoration as a scientist. He didn't. He was a child of the Depression and then joined the Navy for WW2. A scientist through and through, he just didn't believe in over thinking things. He believed in doing things.

As a baby boomer I tended to approach restoration as a planning project. My process was to figure out where to go, then do the work. Dad thought this was nuts. He'd say 'things aren't that foreseeable, why waste time over-thinking'. No doubt his early years re-enforced his point of view. Most of the time he was right. Sometimes it wasn't pleasant.

Dad eventually bought an old Ferrari. It was a bit worn and needed engine work. I'd moved across the country for grad school. My mother passed away and Dad needed company. So I came home for the summer and we worked on the car. Dad was understandably depressed and growing political differences further complicated matters. At the end of the summer I left for a consulting position abroad. Dad disapproved. He felt that I was assisting an 'enemy government'. We didn't speak for more than a year. We saw each other regularly after that but avoided further political discussions.

Five years ago Dad and I flew halfway across the country to met my Uncle at a swap meet. Dad and his brother glowed with stories of their youth, the cars they'd yearned for and owned over the years. We caught up with long lost car friends from all over the country. As I looked around, I noticed that there was only one other son at the meet. It occurred to me that most of these car Dad's didn't share their passion with their sons. I thought back to my teen years, the Vietnam war and the generational divide, and realized that cars as much as anything had kept us together.

The ongoing Iraq war started that weekend. Dad and my Uncle argued about it. Dad, ever the older brother, was a bit too strong in his convictions. After years of political disagreements I was shocked to learn that our political views had merged. I hadn't changed much, Dad had moved miles. Two days later Dad had a stroke and died.

Looking back, the things I admire most were Dad's knowledge and his 'can-do' attitude. These attributes, always rare, seem especially so now. Working on cars will never be the same. Although we differed Dad's spirit and character were the stone that sharpened me. Time and again I find myself thinking of him and the way things came together…. especially when working on and driving our cars.