As far back as I can remember I have loved automobiles. Unlike many of my girlfriends growing up, I
could discuss cars with the boys and loved to argue styles, speed, features,
and car companies, but my specialty was knowing the year, make, and model of
cars. When my sons were teens I enjoyed labeling cars by their make and model
as we traveled from place to place. Once
the younger son asked how I knew so much about cars. Honestly the question took me by surprise and
I had to reflect back on this interest to identify the source. Of course, it was my family! Isn’t that where most interests in all sorts
of things begin?
Mama had nine brothers and sisters who were at our house
all the time for dinner, visits, and vacations. Several of our relatives lived
and worked in Indiana cities which were major General Motors manufactures. When
these Indiana relatives visited, part of the conversation always drifted to
their work and the latest models they were involved in producing. We were a GM family because many family
members, both male and female, helped build GM cars. Somehow being a GM family
got ‘married’ to my family’s Republican political view , thus, GM cars became
‘Republican’ and Ford cars became ‘Democratic’.
When these family members married, of course, some of them married
Democrats who were Ford owners. The constant thread of conversation and debate at
our family visits was cars and politics.
Often the discussions were heated, but congenial, with neither side
declaring victory.
They argued motors and horse power, styles and models,
prices, workmanship, and political influences. I was in the background picking
up bits and pieces of this conversation and forming my own ideas. My focus was
the styling of the car. It had to be ‘pretty’ to me. I think this ‘pretty’
translated to mean sleek, modern, expensive looking, and elegant. I didn’t care if it was Democrat or
Republican because I had no interest in that stuff. For at least 10-15 years I
purposely learned each new Ford and GM model and how to distinguish them from
each other. I frequently imagined which one I would choose as my car. Later on I began to add other makes and
models of cars including foreign ones to
my repertoire. I enjoyed learning this stuff.
By early adolescence I could carry on a half-way decent
conversation about cars and dream about what I would one day drive. When I turned 16 my Dad bought a new model
car, the 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. It was
the first car my Dad had owned; he was a truck guy. He never said it was mine. He just bought it and began to drive it. I
was impressed because it was a new model, and we were the only people at the
time to have this new model in Sneedville.
While I was not particularly a GM person like my father, I was thrilled
to have this car in our family. Within
six months after we got the car my father died from heart disease and the car
became mine. I became the family chauffer because Mama did not drive.
My love for cars has been life-long. I still enjoy identifying makes, models and
sleek, beautiful designs. Somewhere
along the way I managed to anger my family by marrying a Democrat who drove a
Ford car. Then he and I moved from the battle and bought foreign cars such as
Toyota’s, Honda’s, and Nissan’s which incensed both families.
