Your dads defining car

My parents bought a 1985 Mazda RX7 GSL brand new.  Bright red.  I was a newborn at the time, but I do have a few memories of that car from my kindergarten years.  They actually had the rear cargo compartments removed and replaced with some tiny child-sized rear seats, so I got to go places in it quite a bit!  I'm not sure if this was an option or something that was custom made?

Unfortunately, after my second sibling was born in 1991, the decision was made to trade it in... for a Ford Aerostar 4wd .  As someone who grew up to be a car guy, I can imagine how my dad was feeling on that day.

He hasn't owned anything interesting since.  He did pick up a 1984 GSL-SE project car in the early 00's, but it wound up being more of a rust bucket than he realized (or was equipped to deal with)... so it sat and sat, and was eventually sold off for parts a year or two ago.

If I ever win the lottery one of the first things I'm buying is a clean/restored FB RX7 for my folks.

The only car he ever bought new, a 1988 red Yugo.  Shockingly, he did get over 80K miles out of it, and I learned how to drive manual on it. 

My dad was not into cars, so he had a series of commuter appliances over the years.   

My parents brought me home from the hospital in a '71 Charger, but sold that a few months later. The car they had most of the time I was growing up was a '81 Datsun 210 wagon, which they bought in 1984 and held onto until around 1997. For a teenage boy who just got his license, that represented the classic example of a car that would not die, no matter how much you wanted it to. Even though it had been crashed several times and driven through muddy trails that you wouldn't expect a Datsun to get through. (And the off roading was generally my dad driving it, not me!) That did carry a lesson that any car can be an off road vehicle if you're careful about where you place the wheels.

He recently bought the only car he's ever bought new, a Subaru Forester which he bought, appropriately enough, for forest use.

My dad's defining cars to me were his '55 Dodge Custom Royal Lancer and his '60 Renault 4CV, both in this picture (from the day he and my mom brought the 4CV home, brand new)

He had a lot of cars, mostly old Falcons and Renaults, and lately Chrysler minivans, but those two he had around from new until just a few years ago.

1989 Jetta diesel manual. And it wasn't the eco diesel. 52 or 54 horsepower and mpg to match. A total momentum car that would want to plow unless you loaded the front end and got the backend to lighten and rotate. With the higher compression of the diesel, getting the back end to lighten wasn't an issue. 

Later he'd get a mkiv TDI that I upgraded the injector nozzles on, he got a reflash and I put koni reds, H&R springs, a larger rear sway and BBSs from a Wolfsburg edition on it for him. 

My dad isn't a car guy and to prove it he currently drives a Prius that he uses as a pickup truck.  Or, more accurately as a large tool box.  The car I most associate with him is the 1969 Plymouth Fury wagon that he had when I was in my early teens.  It was blue on blue with a 318. 

His dad, my grandfather was a car guy and he was a salesman at the Chevrolet dealership in the town where my dad grew up and apparently purchased all of my dad's cars for him.  I don't remember what predated the Fury but I remember that Grandpa had bought himself and my dad new to them cars and that we took the long drive to go get my dad's new car.  Sometime in adulthood I realized that they only lived an hour away but as a kid that trip was a huge adventure.  Anyway, we went out to the barn where we found my dad's wagon and grandpa's Capri convertible sitting side by side.  Grandpa died when I was 12 years old but the memory of him showing Dad all the features of the Fury and letting me sit in the driver's seat of the ragtop are one of my fondest of him.

Dad kept the Fury for about 15 years so all of my early car and family vacation memories are connected to it.  In my memory, wherever we where and whatever the New England weather was that old Plymouth would spin over with that distinctive Mopar reduction gear starter whine and fire up with a comforting muted rumble ready to take us safely to our destination.

1957 T Bird.

My dad was a car guy since the 1920s and it must have killed him a little to have to drive nothing but beaters when he and my mom started making babies.

As far as most-loved vehicle in Dad's life, without a doubt it was his 1941 Hupp Skylark, which he bought new and sold when his name came up on the shipping-out list for USMC during WW2.

He had many before I was born (E type, split window vette, mustangs, etc) but the one from my living days is a 7k mile '84 (i think) Maserati BiTurbo. Cream on tan leather.

Local dealer couldn't get rid of it so pops had to steal it. Didn't get it out of the garage much at all, but twice a year our short cruises were full of stomach dropping acceleration once the turbos spooled up and once pulled a Ferris Bueller with her.

Sold it once he hit the oil pan on a pot hole and trailed engine oil back home finding out what a serious repair on an out of production italian costs.

My dad's defining car was a motorcycle. He's had hundreds, which has morphed into a valuable vintage collection. When it comes to cars, he goes for the most basic level possible. When I was growing up, that meant a Volvo PV544 that he bought for $800, put another 150K miles into and sold for $800. Now it means old Toyotas. He's kinda snobby about it - can't imagine having a "nice" car, which would take $ away from other interests. I've kinda followed in his footsteps. My performance cars are always old or homebuilt. Perhaps when I retire I'll buy something new. Nah, probably not.

My mom is more of a gearhead than my dad is. My dad is mechanically apt and owned a slew of fairly interesting cars, jdm and american mostly. The vehicle that is engrained in my memory as "him" is a fairly depressing '84 S10 4x4 king cab. I remember as a kid driving around to home depot/homebase/eagle hardware sitting on the center console while he tried to shift since the back was FULL of junk.

My mother's auto history is peppered with big american iron. She was a drag racer with a definite case of "bigger, better, faster" that sold anything she lost with. Among the notables were a Ford fairline w/ 427, '63ish Pontiac Bonneville 389 w/ tripower, '66 427 corvette convertible. One of my favorite stories of the vette (which she has many) was when she married her first husband who had a gold small block/auto vette who wanted her to sell her big block manual trans convertible. She said no and divorced him. 

My dad was a muscle car guy who transitioned into an aircooled VW guy and then to hot rods. In my formative years it was all VW all the time.

On fathers day I went to a VW show and saw two cars that reminded me of him. 

He daily drove "Tanner" a 67 very similar to this for a few years with a high compression 1835 and dual Kadrons. Delete the roof rack and take about 25 years of wear off it and this could have been it.

And this one. If it was blue and a 56 oval window it would be Fritz. His daily up until 87 or so. Fritz had a slightly detuned for the street "super 1600" stadium racer motor in it. He was doing the "patina" thing long before it was cool

I will always associate a ratty looking, raked out VW with a dual or single "quiet pack" exhaust with my dad.

I was too young to remember much of him building Challengers and Chargers and had moved out of the house by the time he was building gasser Anglias and the like.  So it is the aircooled cars that will always be my Pops.

The only cool car I can ever remember my dad owning was a 71 'Cuda with the 383 in Lemon Twist.  Sitting in that car is literally the first memory I have as a child, and I'll never forget the rumble of the motor.  Unfortunately it didn't stick around long, I don't think it was terribly reliable and he wasn't much of a car guy.  It looked exactly like this:

It was followed by a Chevy Monza and a Dodge Omni, both tremendous pieces of crap.

therieldeal said:

Unfortunately, after my second sibling was born in 1991, the decision was made to trade it in... for a Ford Aerostar 4wd .  As someone who grew up to be a car guy, I can imagine how my dad was feeling on that day.

I have a similarly depressing story. My parents were supposed to have twins a few years before me. (my mom ended up losing them) but the decision was made to sell her '66 vette because there wasn't enough room. The replacement? a Triumph TR7. I...don't understand.

From my earliest days, my dad has always been a car guy, excluding the time my sister and I were in our late teens.  My earliest car memories are of his '57 Corvette hardtop and Mom's '68 Javelin.  He then had a VW bug and a couple of first gen Broncos, then came the turbo 2.3 1979 Mustang, a few SVO Mustangs, a Contour SVT and now his '63 Corvette.  He had boring dailies during much of these time too but he's always been a huge car guy.  

Not a picture of my dad, but same year, color, and hubcaps. 

It was his 2nd car he ever had and he found it again and bought it back in the early 90's. He restored it when I was in elementary school. Dad passed away when i was 12 and it went to my uncle. It was my understanding that it was going to come back to my brother and/or I and he sold it and I dont have any fix on where it is.  I have the VIN number and a part of me is tempted to go hunting to get it, but I dont know what I would do with it. 

My dad's first car was a 29 Model A that he bought with paper route money when he was 14. Having the car for delivering papers enabled him to buy a horse (a dun colored working cow pony named Sand). And that's what defined his life. 
 

While his Class of 43 friends were off in Europe or the Pacific, he was in the Army breaking horses and mules in Front Royal, VA.  
 

He had some cool cars and some appliances. He liked cars but only superficially compared to us. He loved to tell the story of the 53 Dodge coupe with the Red Ram hemi he owned in Arizona. That's the only car I ever heard of him racing, and just one time.
 

Cadillacs were the big gun of the day in high speed road racing and he had someone brake checking and generally harassing him on a long mountain descent. He backed off and took flat out run at it. Caddy driver tried to catch him, blew out a bunch of smoke and was done. 

We had 57 Crown Victoria convertible for a few weeks, but it had a bad engine and wasn't around long. Several years with a 63 VW van, which I learned to drive in.  Also had a 63 Coupe DeVille, bought with a cracked block, gone soon. 

There was a 60 Plymouth Suburban, two door wagon that became my first car. Here's the same model, same color. Not a cool car then, but sure would be today. First year for the slant six. 

Caddy was replaced with a 69 Ambassador SST coupe with a 390. Think of an optioned up, sleeper version of a Rebel Machine. That's when I got my license, scared myself in it when I expected it to stop like it would go.
 

He replaced that with a thoroughly boring Matador sedan with a 304, followed by an Omni wagon, diesel Toyota pickup, and a last year of production slant six van. Finished out with a Caprice wagon, Nissan minivan and the 95 P71 I gave him until he couldn't drive any more. 

So, horses. He became an equine portrait painter. Mostly Standardbreds, which was my first career. His best work was the Thoroughbred paintings he did in the 80s.

Grandfather owned a GM dealership so dad had the trade ins available to buy and sell as a youth, lots of various cars. Dad was a car guy and took me to races at asphalt & dirt for stock cars, Lyme Rock for sports cars, etc. As an adult he bought himself one year old cars (always manual) for commuters and new Chevy wagons for mom during my youth. When I was born he drove a Simca then a 64 Mustang, 70 Challenger, 77 Monza Spyder (faux) before buying himself his only brand new car ever, a Saturn SC2. Only had the Saturn a very short time before passing and mom gave me the car when he passed. I didn't really like it so I gave it back and she gave it to another relative.

Various iterations of the "standard-issue suburban Dad truck", AKA a crew-cab 1500.

I don't know if it was his defining car, but...it would be a hearse.

My dad was a funeral director and on occasion, he would have to travel to pick up  body to be buried in our home state. He would usually take two of his five boys with him.  At that time, a hearse and an ambulance were built on the same chassis.  The cool thing was they had jump seats and all types of compartments (and a siren) installed before they made the choice of hearse/ambulance.

We loved the trip out as we could sit in the jump seats and play with all the compartments.  He would also run the siren when cops weren't around.  I don't remember the trips back being crowded, but it was also a time before mandatory seat belts.

Shoot, we also had a 64 chevy van that was a funeral car.  My father had lanterns put on the side, which really was pretty wild at the time.  It was the old three on the tree.  When he taught me how to drive, he said if I could drive that, I could drive anything.  That was a great fun car.  Talk about no seatbelt, I had so many friends slide off the engine cover and into the no padded dash and front.

I spent hours of time in that car with my father, so maybe the van was his defining car.

1950 Hudson Pacemaker, probably bought used in 1952 as a more practical alternative to the pre-war Hudson convertible he had when he was courting my Mom.

That's The Car I Remember growing up.  I was in deep mourning when it had to go (rust).  It defines my Dad because he installed seat belts in it himself in about 1960 and made us wear them religiously.  He wanted us as safe as possible.

It was replaced briefly by a 1958 Ambassador with a 327 and 3-speed + OD, which was a serious step up, speedwise, from the Hudson, and then by his first-ever new car, a 1962 Rambler Classic, bought as a dealer leftover in January 1963.  That car served the family faithfully (and even put up with teenager me) for 81999 miles.

Our family car stable consisted of two Oldsmobile 442s.  This was eventually complemented by a series of Datsun pickups.

For my Dad it would have to be his Covair; many legendary stories of doing wrong things in it, most of them alcohol fueled and before he started going to AA.

If there was a accident on the Southern State Pwky he'd cut across the  grass shoulder and use the bicycle path to get around the pile up. 

He was once coming home from a wedding, late at night with his aunt and cousin in the car, he didn't want to have to drive all the way around the park (somewhere in Brooklyn) so he just drive across the lawn because cutting through the park saved 10 minutes. 

The most ironic thing is he got mad at his brother who crashed the car while driving drunk. My father said he loved that car but also said he's lucky he didn't kill anyone with it. 

When I was growing up my dad had a Chrysler Conquest, some of my earliest memories are taking rides with him around town. I credit that car with me giving the car bug and I really want to own one one day. 

My grandfather was not a car guy but was always buying and selling cars, the cars that stuck around and have the most family stories ties to them were his air-cooled Beetles. Because of that I bought a project Beetle and am slowly getting it back together.  

My dad was very tightfisted. A car was just a means to get from A to B. Still, I wish this little beater was still around. 

They are worth some money now. This little gem was followed by a series of Austin Minis and the earliest and cheapest Japanese cars. Im just happy we did not end up with a Hyundai Pony as that's where he was heading when mom stepped in and demanded a wagon. So we wound up with a bright red bare bones Volare that went for years past its due date.