I think he was a part of the flapper era. Not that he was a “dandy” but he probably knew a few. The women I have seen pictures of were certainly part of the upper party set, or so they seemed to me. I was a child but this is how they came across to me. Now, how he met my mother, I do not know. I never asked them…I know she was going to college in Fredericksburg, Va., and they met there.
What I saw growing up was his delight and dedication to tinkering…with engines of any sort. One which never worked for long was the one with the little gas motor. The plane was about three feet long, but I hardly ever saw the two together. He would have the motor locked down in a vice and he would turn the propeller planes endlessly…the sounds of the sputter and the near starts, the catching to the gas energy -- it would roar into life and it looked like SUCCESS… then… no sound.
The process would start again.
The smell of the gas became familiar…smelled like race car smells. I found out later that the fuel is methanol with a touch of nitromethane. Definitely race car stuff.
Perhaps it was the smells of racing cars which kept him at this project so often…once I did see the two parts together - the motor inside the plane. It went up and up and the wonderful buzzing sounds filled the air. Rapture. Of course this did not last long. With no dignity at all crashed into the ground.
Dad never seemed to mind these no runs and crashes. He would just begin again.
Then there were the austins and the crosley. These were totally fun. With engines in or without, it did not matter. My brother Lewis and I would get the neighborhood kids to be the engine and one of us would steer while all the rest had to push. We would push and steer this car out of our long driveway, all around a full block and then down our driveway again. Probably a near mile. I do not remember any adult ever telling us we could not do this.
Ahh, the thrill of 8 to 10 year old kid power…
I remember once our goats got into one to the crosley’s and eat up my dad’s papers and part of a leather jacket. They were If and And cute little critters.
One of the Austins had little flipper turn signals which were in the door jam and when you would turn right side the right side would flip up and left side for left turns. And the doors would open in such a way you could make a little room and have a secret opening. They call them suicide doors now. You could stand in the center of the side of the car and put both hands on each door handle and pull each one open like French doors open. Why they were dangerous I do not know.
Time moved forward and different cars came into our family. The Nash. This car had a back seat which the back would be able to be pulled up. It had belting on each side where the back and seat part were, on the loop belt was a strong metal ring on it. This you would hook onto a hook between the front door post and then you could make a two people bed, or three kids. For us, dad and mom had the bed, one of us slept up on the back over them and them one in the front. We even had clip on screens for the windows. Total fun, I thought.
Every other year we got a new Nash. We would be told the evening it was coming in. Mom would tell us the new car was coming. We would all go out to view the new addition to the family.
I can see my dad now in his coveralls and a light weight scull cap on working in the cool darkish garage. I can smell the smell of the grease and the cars themselves. I liked being around him doing these jobs. Today my husband, Greg does just this same thing only he make a living doing this. We are both car junkies and love different cars, mostly European models
When I started this bit on my dad, I had no idea it would be about cars and engines and motors, but it is. He was so much more too, however I think the car was his passion and I think I have him with me and this passion when I am around the car and all it takes to keep one.
This was the one place he was him…not a dad, not a salesman, not a husband, or son. This was his world and his time of renewal, his meditation and peace. The part of him which bonded him to the earth and his place in it.
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