Where it all began...

Recently somebody asked why I love cars so much. The only answer I could come up with was to say "you know..." while gesturing vaugly at my Camaro. Now a lot of us here are probably thinking "that's a phenomenal answer" but I really hadn't ever thought about it. Sure, I played with matchbox cars when I was a child, and this morning, but so did thousands of kids and they turned out fine. 

After thinking about it for longer than I should have (I am on the clock after all) I think I pinpointed the moment I decided I was going to be broke for the rest of my life.

It was springtime. 3rd grade. Prudence Crandall elementary school in Enfield CT. Vehicle day. In the parking lot they had arranged a collection of specialty vehicles to show to all the kids and there was some cool stuff. Fire trucks, a street sweeper, a crane, one of those utility trucks that can also drive on railroad tracks an Ice cream truck... but in the back of the lot there was the single coolest thing I had ever seen.

Jerry Marquis, a local driver who later went on to compete in the NASCAR truck series, had brought his short track modified car.

I'm sorry, but it doesn't get much cooler than that. I hung around that thing for a lot longer than I should have asking every question I could fathom 2 or 3 times. In an effort to shut me up he plunked his helmet on my head and invited me to sit in it. This moment, right here, was the moment I knew I was going to be a race car driver.

It took me 30 years to buy one and it's still arguable as to whether or not I am a real race car driver but I've made it.

And it's all Jerry's fault.... so... arrest him.

Do you have a "that moment"?

One of my first automotive memories was my uncle changing the points in my Grandmother's car. I was probably 6 or so. He gave me the old points and I swore I would build my own car one old part at a time.

Kindergarten. 

My friend Jason McLane would get picked up from school every day by his dad who was a mechanic and would fix up cars. I would get so excited to see his dad roll in and there be some progress made to his ride. Back then it was Cragar SS wheels and lift shackles as style of the day. Some primer spots here. Exhaust pipes there. A little at a time he fixed those cars up.

I was hooked right there in the school pick up line in Brownwood Texas in 1978. 

My dad is a gearhead. I came home from the hospital in a 440 Max Wedge powered Dodge Challenger. By my teens he was deep into aircooled VW's. At one of the "Bug runs" I saw the VW powered SCS Fiat 600.

I'm thinking it was this one but in a white livery

At that point the die was cast. Odd, tiny cars that go like stink.

My Uncle George was a car guy. I didn't really know at the time, but he was a member of the Early Ford V8 Club. When I was really young, and probably before I was born, he had a 1936 Ford Coupe and a first year 1939 Mercury. 
 

I remember riding alone out in the rumble seat of that Ford coupe when I was 3 or 4 and that's absolutely what hooked me. I was terrified but I loved it. I remember going to a car show with him, but I don't remember the cars or the event, just that we were doing something together with old cars.  

Uncle George bought the toy cars that I played with at my Grandmother's house. I remember a Mercer Raceabout, a Thomas Flyer,  a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost and a Stutz Bearcat. These were the first car names that I ever knew. 
 

I wish I had a picture of the Ford. I didn't love the Mercury, but I understand why it was important to him.
 

Born into a family of car people I was taken to watch asphalt & dirt stock car races, sports cars at Lime Rock etc. at a very young age. Then, when I was 9 years old I saw this fiberglass bodied 1/4 midget sitting unused in the back of a garage and knew.... IT HAS TO BE MINE!

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In reply to Trent : Little giant killer  and Jumbo Shrimp were a couple other Fiat 600 VW powered drag cars.....

A neighbor that was about 10 years older than me was a member of a secret club called the SCCA. I guess the Steam Carpet Cleaners Association really liked cool foreign cars because there was a steady stream of interesting stuff in the court we lived in.  Seeing the real version of one of your favorite AFX slot cars can change a 12 year old.

Couldn't tell ya. My family isn't into cars, none of my close friends are, but I've always been obsessed. From matchbox cars, to legos and models they've just always been my thing. I also like airplanes, boats, and trains. 

I don't remember any original moment.  I had a hitch on my tricycle to pull my Radio Flyer wagon around the farm yard.  Dad taught me to drive the 59 CJ5 when I was 6.  I was driving the grain truck, unloading the combine on the go at 9.  Somebody from the reserve abandoned a 57 chev on a back road when I was 11, and I drove it all over by hot wiring it.  Cale Yarborough won the Southern 500 back to back when I was 12 and 13, and I knew thanks to Wide World of Sports.

And so on...

My favorite uncle was a mechanic and owned his own shop, right next door to "Carl's Hollywood Mufflers" . 

I remember late one winter Sunday night when he and my dad were working in our unheated garage trying to get the '58 Mercury wagon to start so Dad could go to work the next morning, when they finally figured the problem out (new fuel pump had one of the valves installed backwards) and it started, the looks of joy and accomplishment were a real inspiration!

But I've been playing with cars since I was 2 years old. One of my two grandsons posted a pic of his garage in the "show us your shop" thread with his Miata racecar and his Dodge stockcar in it, so that nut didn't fall far from the tree! 

I also posted a pic of my son's shop in the same thread, so he's pretty much a chip off the old block too......

RaabTheSaab said:

Couldn't tell ya. My family isn't into cars, none of my close friends are, but I've always been obsessed. 

Yep, couldn't have said it better.

2004 GRM Challenge.

My son was into cars. I wasn't really.   I wanted a father/son project.

What have I become??

Had an uncle who was into racing, but my father wasn't. He did have fond memories of a 1965 Plymouth Barracuda and a 1971 Dodge Charger, but when I grew up, he had a 1981 Datsun 210. I didn't like that car, and wanted to figure out if I could get something more interesting on a shoestring budget. Which turned out to be the Dart.

I just turned 15 and bought the June 1963 issue of Car and Driver.  My first exposure to Brock Yates.

My father was a car junkie, always took me to shows and swap meets.  We'd spend weekends driving the backroads of western PA looking for something interesting poking out of a barn.  However my father had zero mechanical skill.  When he finally bought a vintage car he farmed me out (14 years old) to his friends in the hobby as shop help to learn some things.   At 16 I was gifted an 11 year old Oldsmobile with starting issues.  I brought it home and figured out how to install a starter with the very limited tools we had.   A minor success but I was hooked.   Dad can polish and detail a car like no one I know so he'd keep them pretty and I'd keep them running.   

From there I just kept learning more, buying more, building and breaking more.  In my early life it was a matter of necessity, I couldnt afford good cars and couldnt afford to pay people to fix them.   Now I can buy nice things but still gravitate toward the projects.  I've never gotten much joy out of just driving and owning, its all about the build for me.   Im approaching 200 cars lifetime now and its the variety that gets me, and learning new things.

I was born this way. Never stood a chance.

This is generational for me.  Even my Mom was into cars - she's on your left side next to my grandfather.  
 

My older brother took me to the Miami Auto Show at the Dinner Key Auditorium in 1962.  Lots of new cars on display by dealers.  In the back corner was a first edition Beach formula Vee on display.  Bingo!    He followed it up by taking me to the Sebring 12 Hour that year.   Done deal.

Mine was building Models for 4H ,neighbors flyin down our road in cool cars,my older brother Dodge Demon, my long time friend Dads 911 rotting in the driveway. Buying a '69 Nova that sent me to autobody school. Getting that car help me make the decision to be into cars. Since then I always was owning a cool car(at least I thought they were) repairing, restoring.  :0)

My cousin had been to the 1967 New York Auto Show. He and my brother announced they were going to be race car drivers. Belong only 5 it was a huge influence. Out of the three of us I was the o my one who ever went racing. I'm on my 36th season .

As for the younger generation I take the race car to one of the school events and hopefully that's  inspired some kids to get involved in the hobby.

I was super young and got to do little things to help with this car.

My father was a tinkerer. When I was born he had a 1957 Belair post sedan that had been painted jade green, had a destroked 327 and a powerglide with Thrush side pipes and Ansen kidney bean mags. He drove it like 6 times by the time I was 10. It is really the saddest way to fall in love with cars.

I was brought home from the hospital in a 1965 Mustang fastback.  My parents other car at the time was a Triumph Spitfire.  The Mustang was the only car available to them that day, as my dad was doing a suspension upgrade to the Spitfire and the rear end was out of it.

When my sister came along, those cars gave way to a more practical fleet, a Pontiac Can Am and BMW 2002.  The Pontiac was needed to haul the C Sports Racer he built out of a NSU Sport Prinz, and the Suzuki GN400 he moto crossed and did a few trials with.  It might have hauled his short track stock car (dirt and asphalt) around too, but his partner in the car had a truck.

But the car that really did it for me was this BMW 3.0 CSL. He was co-owner of a German car repair business at the time.  He was driving a '69 911S and mom had a Bavaria at the time.  One of his customers had several grocery stores, and picked up a tractor trailer at a sheriff's auction with "some BMW inside".  It had no motor or trans, but was otherwise complete. 
 

My dad bought it for just about what the customer paid for the rig.  After looking up what it would cost to build a motor and get a transmission (at his cost, it would have been getting into starter home territory).  At that point, he ended up selling it to Alf Gebhardt, who was running one in the Trans-Am series at the time.

The first four photos in that link are of the car as of last year.  The two photos in the 'before' section of the car outside are from the day Alf's crew came and picked it up.  The other pics are from other owners after my dad.

One of my dad's friend had a '67 Corvette with a 327.   I was about 14 and talking about cars all the time.  One day Corvette man says come on.  Let me show you what its all about.  He proceeded to floor it and run us up through the gears to 110.   I was  hooked.