DAD WAS A BUYER

When I was a pre-teen, right until I left my parent’s house, my dad never bought a new car. All his cars were used and all an adventure.

In the beginning, Dad’s cars were all 1940’s vintage, and this went well into the late 50’s and early 60’s. He was not rich, worried more about feeding us than having a nice car, only one that would take us to where we needed to go. Going to work, taking mom shopping and church, and occasional visits to relatives nearby. The most exotic place we visited was the fish market!

Dad had an issue with car batteries, we could never put on the heater, defroster or even the radio, because: “You’ll ruin my battery!” So what happened? Well we would drive along in a rain storm, the windows fogging over, and he would keep his towel next to him, wiping and driving along the way, you want to play the radio, he would sing, you wanted heat, take a bus. At least he always had a plan.

Mom had no complaints, as long as she got to go where she wanted since she didn’t drive. Dad did not have the patience to teach her how to drive and mom as somewhat nervous behind he wheel.

One Sunday morning, Mom decided she was going to church as she did every Sunday, and dad was sick. So mom took the wheel went to church, and on the way back decided to take a shortcut, through the woods and got stuck in a muddy rut from a rainy night before! Some local citizen came to her rescue, and she never told dad what she did.

When dad had a problem car, he had a problem car. One Saturday early afternoon, as he was leaving his job for the day, he had a flat tire!  It was near Christmas, and dad had just so much money that he wanted to spend on his family. Having 5 children meant he had to do the best he could and do without for himself. Suddenly he became so angry, he started to kick the flat tire, swearing off in Italian and letting the tire have it good! It just so happened that his boss was leaving and saw the whole thing. The Boss was the owner of the company, and everyone marveled about how rich he was. Fancy alligator shoes, cashmere sweaters and silk shirts rich, with daily treks out to some restaurant for lunch rich. Seeing the commotion he goes over to dad and asks what’s the problem. Dad tells him and he looks, then walks around the car and gives dad enough money for four new tires!

Getting the car started in the morning was like trying to pick up a toy in one of those glass enclosed boxes with the claws where you drop in  quarter and manipulate the claw to grab a toy, only to have it fall from the grasp of the claw and times up. He would sneak up on the car, insert the key and press the gas pedal a few times and of course, it would whine, or groan or both, and die. This would go on a few times and finally success! He would start out in English, swearing at the car, then by the time he switched to Italian he got it running!

Finally, in his last years of his life, he bought two new cars in the late 80’s and broke the cycle, giving up looking for someone who might know how to fix a car, and save money: it was a proud day for dad!