I have driven different types of cars over the years. Most of my cars were either given to me, or I bought used. Used cars come with a certain activity we call “repair.” My Dad was old enough to have learned to drive in a Model T Ford, most likely the one with a crank start. He didn’t keep up with the times. When my wife and I were first married, we drove a car her father gave us as a wedding present. When my dad got into it, he exclaimed, “With all of these knobs and contraptions, how can you make this thing go!” Trust me, it was a standard model from the 1960s or ‘70s. By the old standards, the cars of today look like the control panels in a rocket ship!
My Dad was a Rambler car man. His first Rambler was a 1960 American. I never understood his fascination with them. Our air conditioning was a 4-40 (4 windows down while going 40 miles per hour.) When it was time for Dad to buy me a car, you guessed it…a Rambler. We pulled up the front of the seller’s place, he said, “Now that’s the car for you!” I knew I was going to get stuck with it, but I had no choice…he was buying. It was a stick shift on the column station wagon. Later, I bought my car, a Chevy Belair. I was moving up in the world.
My older brother, Dave, was the mechanic in the family. I never bothered to learn to work on cars, I had him around until I headed off for college and seminary. It was time to learn something about car repair. This was pre-YouTube, so I had to rely on a printed repair manual. I think my first adventure was replacing brake pads and shoes. With the mission accomplished, I had fellow students saying, “Hey, I hear you work on cars.” “Sort of” I replied. I was willing to take a stab at other repairs, under the condition they bought a repair manual and any tool I needed to get the job done. That is how my tool inventory began. Fifty years later, I’m still helping others with repairs. I recently worked on a car belonging to my friend from Tanzania, Africa.
Cars seem to take on the characteristics of their owners like couples who grow old and start to look like each other. I guess you can tell a lot about a person by seeing how they decorate and treat their automobiles. We also associate certain vehicles with people we know. Before they get close, I know who is coming. Sometimes, I only know new neighbors by their vehicles. Next door is “White Van.”
I see my friend, Dean, every few years. Out of the blue, he wants to go to breakfast. Last week he picked me up. I wasn’t sure what vehicle he was driving. He sent me a text, “I’ll be there in a few. Wear a jacket.” While I was standing outside waiting, I saw this nice, new black pickup as it turned the corner. He looked like he was going to pull over. I took one step forward and he continued. Coming from the other direction was Dean, driving a blue shoe box on wheels, with no windows. Hence, a need for a jacket.
Cars can be a gift of encouragement. While living in Santa Monica, California, I served on a church staff. I held a Bible study for employees of City Hall. I started this with my friend, Jim. Jim knew I didn’t make much money. Perhaps he learned about the time I pulled up by City Hall. While parking the car, it started to roll back. Some officers came to my rescue. I said, “Hold it,” while I reached under the seat to grab a brick and place it under a wheel. I said, “Sorry. My emergency brake doesn’t work, so I use this emergency brick.” One of the officers replied, “Chaplain, you need a new car.” I couldn’t agree more, and that is where my friend Jim comes in. He asked me, “Are you taking a vacation this summer?” I said, “Well, we are just going to stick close to home. Maybe a day trip.” The next week at Bible study, he handed me a check and said, “I had a used car I was going to sell and felt the Lord wanted you to have this to help you out.” We had that vacation.
A lot of memories are created in cars. As a family, we usually took a driving vacation each summer. In doing so, we had some wonderful experiences of seeing many of the U.S. States. Jim, my kid brother, and I had some great adventures.
The most important things in life are experiences. We didn’t have to have a lot of money for us neighborhood kids to ride with my dad on a fishing or camping adventure.
What memories do you associate with or without cars? Consider sending them in so others can enjoy the good times with you. Send an email to journeyintostory@google.com.