Automotive History

[vakkotaur]

This isn't a history of the automobile as such but a history of those I recall. There are mostly likely omissions. It might also be dull to everyone except possibly pharwarner.

I don't recall the make or model of the first car I can remember. It was simply "the car" and was a typical late 1960s or early 1970s four door. What made this memorable was that there was a fire. Not in the engine compartment, but inside. It happened when nobody was near it. The cause was a searchlight that hadn't been shut off as it wasn't realized it was on. Immediate replacement of the vehicle wasn't an option and it still was driveable, though it needed seats. Replacement seats (not the right ones for the car, but the price was right) were found and put in - eventually. I recall riding in back, seated on a wooden crate. The post-fire smell is what I recall most of all. Every once in a while I notice a similar smell and it's quite a potent memory. And, surprisingly, not a bad one.

I also remember my one grandpa always had a big, dark green (so dark I though it was black for a long time) Plymouth station wagon. My grandma didn't drive it. In fact, for some time she didn't drive at all. But she wouldn't have driven that car anyway. Seems grandpa didn't believe in power steering. This car was what we all took on trips "up north" to go fishing and such. It held all of us, our stuff, and towed the boat trailer. The boat, by the way, wasn't a big 'powerboat' but a nicely size Alumacraft that could be rowed easily if one didn't care to run the small outboard motor.

My other grandpa drove a pickup truck. It was unapologetically a pickup truck. Bench seat, manual transmission, and four wheel drive meant dealing with locking hubs and such. To this day, I have a hard time taking seriously a "truck" with an automatic transmission. My other grandmother did drive, but had tended to have a typical sedan.

The folks probably had a few vehicles I don't recall. I do vaguely recall a couple larger sedans but they were big and old and not around all that long. I do remember my mother adjusting the manual choke to get a car started on cold mornings. Somewhere there was also a Jeep. This needed a new engine and Pa had managed to find one. Before working on the Jeep I was allowed to run it a bit (I was way too young at the time) staying on our property - what could I hurt? Amazingly, no harm to anyone or anything. After Pa changed the engine he decided that was simply too much effort and would never do that again. And he never has. In fact, the metal frame that he'd welded together (it looked kinda like a swingset setup) was given away. We did have the Jeep for a while after that.

Another vehicle I really remember was the Vega. This being the early to mid 1970s, the relative fuel economy was attractive. To me and my sister, this car was neat as it was station wagon of sorts, but not too big. There was the front, the back, and the "way back" which we wanted to ride in but (almost?) never were allowed to. However to say it was troublesome was an understatement. After one too many times trying to get it going again - stalled out on the road, at night, without lights, in the rain - it was decided that it simply too much trouble.

A a yellow 'Super' (curved windshield) Beetle replaced the Vega. My sister and I felt a bit cramped at first. This car was the smallest we'd ever been in! We got used to it. So used to it that other cars seemed like lumbering tanks later. Having the engine weight over the drive wheels made for good traction. In fact, my mother worked in town while we lived in the country and there were times when she made it to work through the snow and people in town didn't. This was the family's first "foreign" car - and it was noticed. Pa didn't have to spend lots of time fixing it. He avoided the products of Detroit for some time after that. I recall that during one summer storm (why Pa liked to drive around in the rain I still have no idea - I avoid it, myself) we were all laughing at the guy with his big powerful pickup plowing through puddles and such... as we followed and neatly went through everything he did as if it was no big deal, because it wasn't. We eventually followed him out of town and to a rural wayside.. where he had to turn around. His truck couldn't go over the fallen tree. Pa sized up the situation, got out some and looked to double check, and drove under the tree. A photographer for the local paper got that on film and that picture was on our refrigerator for some time. "An intrepid driver is undaunted as he pilots his Beetle under a fallen tree" might not be the exact caption, but it's close. The license plate was washed out in the photo, which was probably just as well.

Eventually the Beetle's rust got to be too much and another vehicle was needed. A temporary solution was a 1967 Chevrolet. This was a decidedly old and worn vehicle and burned oil to the point that one person dubbed it the "Cartel Special" after the oil cartels. This was kept as a second car for a while after a better vehicle was purchased. The neat thing was that the hood was fairy thick steel and the insulation on its underside wasn't all there anymore. Pa and I would go for a late night drive on summer nights and come back and lay on the warm hood (with a blanket - partly for warmth, partly to block mosquitoes) and look at the stars until things got cold again, or the mosquitoes got to be too annoying.

The folks were looking at the VW Rabbit, and had been told a diesel Rabbit would be theirs "real soon now." Well, after a long time of "real soon now" they'd had enough. One day my sister & I got home from school and there was a Renault Alliance in the driveway. This was the car I learned to drive and took my driver's test with. At first I really hated manual transmissions - the shifting wasn't bad once you got going, but getting started could be a trick, and getting it into reverse was nightmarish at first. Then one day Pa was driving around and found he couldn't get into reverse. At all. So he drove to the dealer.. and found out about a recall. After a bit of work, getting it into reverse wasn't hard. Eventually, I wished for a fifth gear. Reverse was curious. Rather than be after 4th (or 5th) in the shift sequence, it was sort of before first, just over farther - and a ring on the gearshift had to be pulled up to allow it to go into reverse, that way one couldn't accidentally mix up reverse with first. I still miss the horn being on a steering column stalk - especially now with the modern steering wheels holding an airbag. Logically I know that's not a problem, but it still bugs me, and it was nice having the horn at my fingertips.

Somewhere there was also an old Dodge pickup, but we didn't have that very long. I think we were about to move and a neighbor sold it quite cheap. After that move or maybe the next (they weren't that far apart, really), Pa sold it as we really didn't need it anymore.

Also there was an old Dodge van. Not a minivan, a full sized van. I'm not sure how long we had it, but it was while. If we went anywhere and wanted or needed to take the dog, this was the vehicle to take.

The Renault was eventually replaced by a Ford Festiva. This car was nice local runabout, but it really needed a fifth gear. And although I know some existed this way, I can't imagine burdening one with an automatic transmission or an air conditioner, let alone both. The mileage was quite good, and it was fun to drive. Now, that's fun as in maneuverable, not as in power. Also, the subcompact parking spaces were available. The Festiva was a rebadged Kia, I think. Pa did say that he asked where it was built and the fellow at the dealership grudgingly admitted "Korea" and was surprised at Pa's reaction: "Good! I won't buy a Ford built in this country." Though we actually regarded this as my mother's car. Alas, it was this car my first accident in. It was late at night and I was driving to work (yes, I worked nights) and saw a deer. I slowed, and that deer crossed the road. I didn't see the second deer until too late. By then I had ham license and so radioed home and the folks came to get me, and the now rather bent up Festiva. I was fine. The car and the deer were not. And then I took the truck to work...

The truck, the first one I drove, was a red 1984 Mazda B2000. It was rather nice, and was a truck to me - bench seat, manual transmission (five speed, yay!) and everything seemed to be placed where it belonged. And being light, it got decent if not great mileage. It got better mileage than a friend's '79 Buick - which bugged him some as that was best mileage vehicle he'd ever owned. He was and is a large guy so his need for a larger vehicle was simple: he to fit in it comfortably.

By now there were four drivers in the family and two vehicles, so a third wasn't out of line. For a time this was a '74 Hornet. This was during the days of the 55 mph speed limit which was just as well. It shook such that I feared it might flight apart if driven any faster. The annoying thing about this car was it had an automatic transmission and a wiiiiiide brake pedal. I was now quite used to manual transmissions and found the automatic I drove from time to time (grandmother's cars) seemed to shift at the worst possible moments. So I was in the habit of shifting. While automatically pawing the air, trying to find the gearshift, with my right hand wasn't too bad, that wiiiiiide brake pedal was a problem when I went for the clutch. Helllloooo lurching stops!

Eventually the red pickup took the place of the Hornet. Pa liked the Mazda pickup so much he bought another one, a silver 1987 Mazda pickup. This was nicer, bucket seats, fancier layout, but somehow seemed less of a truck for it, though at least it still had a manual transmission. The red truck was sold off after it started really showing its age. (It had gotten to the point where I made sure to use a certain gas pump to fill up because I could coast away and pop the clutch to get it started when it was a bit warm. I did worry about it starting on cold nights and mornings, but it seemed it always started right off when cold. It grumbled a bit, but it always started when cold.)

There was also a silver Ford Thunderbird. It was neat looking car and had automatic everything. But it was a pain to drive as the ergonomics sucked sharp pointy rocks through a soggy paper straw. Digital speedometers are an abomination, and what good are power seats if you need to be a contortionist to work the controls? Changing the radio station meant reaching and stretching - not a thing to do while driving. Looking at the instrument panel required a bit of ducking to look under the steering wheel. It looked great, but the old red Mazda pickup was less hassle and more fun to drive. The only saving grace of the Thunderbird was air conditioning, as I recall.

Somehow a minivan was decided upon. A used minivan. A used minivan with a manual transmission. "They don't make them." said the dealer. A few weeks later the folks got a phone call, "I don't believe it. Someone just traded in a Dodge Caravan... with a stick!" Turns out it was some promo vehicle given to a radio station, and it was not loaded with options, which was perfect.

And eventually I bought a car of my own. After looking all over and rejecting a couple Escorts, an big old station wagon, a huge (to me) Buick, and a dealer who figured I was an "easy mark" (salesman made a big deal of the inspection list they did as if they were wonderful to do it - state law requires that list of checks, so if he was gonna BS on that, how could I believe anything else he said?) I wound up at a used car dealer just a couple miles from home. And there it came down to a Ford Festiva and a Hyundai Excel. The Festiva was slightly more expensive, four speed, and no options. The Excel was a slightly cheaper, a five speed, and had air conditioning and a tape player. A couple test drives later and I wrote a check and was the new owner of a used '87 Excel.

The Excel wasn't perfect, but despite problems I never needed more than a jump to get home - even when it was limping home on three cylinders due to a bent valve. Repairs included the valve replacement, change of timing belt, and change of water pump and alternator. I had, and still carry, a shovel (for snow or whatever), jumper cables, an extra quart of oil, a jug of antifreeze, toolkit, and duct tape - also now some good winter boots and a blanket just in case of being Truly Stuck someplace. This has generally benefited others more than me, which suits me fine. I'd rather not be the one needing assistance. Considering I drove the Excel until late 1997 and it was an '87, that wasn't too bad. I'd driven all over (to Michigan, twice, across Iowa a few times, to Canada and back) and so I figured even with repairs I got my money's worth out of it. But when third gear started being troublesome and the big cloud of blue smoke was mine, it was time for a replacement.

And after looking around and even considering the Hyundai Accent, I settled on the Toyota Corolla. Fancy? No. Powerful? Well, more so than the Excel, but it's not "exciting." Fuel efficient? Reasonably so. Reliable? Utterly. I've had the Corolla for five years now and all I've had to get done is routine maintenance (oil changes, tire wear, wipers, brake wear). It Just Works. Is it perfect? Not quite. I still don't like the horn as a 'press the steering column' thing, and the radio vs. tape volume can be jarringly different (which was not the case on other vehicles, as I recall). It doesn't have ABS, and any dirt or smudging shows on the black paint. But those are nits. Barring accident, I expect to drive this car for another five years if not longer.

My next car? No idea. I figure I've got plenty of time before I have to decide again, but almost certainly another Toyota. Only it won't be black.

Comments

[pharwarner.livejournal.com]

I want to comment on this lots! It's the best LJ post ever! And I do mean that, it's intensely interesting. The relationship between cars and people was one of the defining events of the 20th Century, changing even the landform of continents to a degree. I want to make a similar post to this myself soon. I want to start that process by asking a question that will help me understand the rest of the world's relationships with cars. Who was the first person in your family to own a car? What type was it? And why did they decide to purchase it?

My guess is that in the US, car ownership among the population generally will predate that among populations in the rest of the world. I look forward to seeing if I'm right!

Well, there is a bit more to the story...

[vakkotaur.livejournal.com]

My father wasn't permitted to get a driver's license when others did. He finally got it a couple years later when he a bargaining chip: No driver's license, no senior photograph.

This is also the story of the true junker that my folks wound up with. They decided to see if the job market was better in Austin, Texas (and it wasn't, quite) and so set off cross country. Somewhere in Iowa their car died of failure that they could not afford to fix. They didn't have much and wound up spending most of that on a junker. Not a used car, a junk car. Some farmer pulled it out of a disused field or such and they got it going - barely. And they drove that to Austin and my great grandparents.

My great grandfather wouldn't loan his car, even for driving looking for and then driving to work. Thus things were more limited. After an incident too many (at work...) the folks returned to Wisconsin. Yes, in the junker. They shut it off only twice on the way. Once as they stayed at a motel overnight and once at a gas station when the manager refused to sell unless it was off. (Supposedly it was said they they'd shut it off, but they expected help getting it started again.)

My grandfather, the one with the station wagon later, was involved in a garage or something in the 1920s or 1930s. One interesting thing he did (and I wish I knew more and had photos) was convert a Model T (I think, might have been an A) to electric. Said he could get to Wausau and home again on a single (HUGE) charge. Eventually he sold it to Marathon Battery.