QotW: What’s your best car story with dad?

[Mike]

Dads. They teach us how to drive, wrench, and curse when either of the first two goes wrong. Many of us got our passion for cars from our dads (or moms too, but it’s Father’s Day that’s coming up), and … Continue reading →

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[siteunseen]

The love of cars is the only trait my Dad and I share.  In 1984 the new styled Corvettes came out and my Dad bought one, midlife crisis red but it was sooo sharp looking and fast it was cool to me.  I didn't have my drivers license yet but had been driving around the neighborhood, our river lot and the quick shop mostly, in his '64 Chevy pickup.  3 speed on the column was what I learned how to drive first, it sucked but it taught me a lot.

 

One Sunday morning he said if I would get out of bed and go to church with the "family" he'd let me take the 'Vette for a couple of hours.  My step monster went ballistic, seriously crazy.  She said she would leave if he let me drive it without a license.  The proudest I've ever been of my Dad is when he told me to go get the car and drive it like he'd promised.  Me and him stayed in a hotel for the next two nights.

 

Happy Fathers Day guys. 

[Captain Obvious]

A number of years ago, my Dad called and told me there was this used car he was interested in and asked if I would come take a look at it with him and tell him what I thought of it. It was a 74 260Z and I knew absolutely nothing specific about the Z car line except that I liked the styling. We looked it over, took turns driving, and I gave him the thumbs up to buy it.

 

I liked that 260 a lot and somehow convinced my dad to let me borrow it a number of times. I just loved the whole choke lever thing and the low end torque. And the driving position. And the center console shape. And the deep set round gauges. And the sound. And it had these unnecessarily wide Cyclone wheels on the back with corresponding unnaturally wide tires back there to match. That kind of thing is simply hormonally irresistible to a young male driver.

 

Some time after that, my old Alfa Romeo broke and I suddenly found myself in the car market unexpectedly. I wasn't LOOKING for a Z, but I did happen to turn up a 77 280Z for sale near me. Went to look at it, and after some negotiations, I bought it.

So for a number of years, we were a father and son Z team. He with his 260 and me with my 280.

 

Well my Z got totaled in a not my fault accident and my Dad's Z started to fail with no time or money to put it back together so it sat in his garage waiting for attention. Neither of us were driving Z's anymore. My Dad passed away some number of years ago while his still 260 sat quietly in his garage until recently when I finally got up the motivation to start fixing the issues. I got it running and was planning my next steps when another 280Z (my current 77) crossed my path.

 

After much mental wrangling, I ended up selling my Dad's 260 to a good friend who had more resources and energy than I did and I bought that 77 280 which was much closer to being done. My buddy wanted a project, and I wanted to drive a Z again before I keeled over. He knew my Dad and we all went fishing together at times. He had ridden in that 260Z with my Dad at the wheel. It's a good fit.

 

So at this point, I'm driving my 77 now, and he's working on my Dad's 260Z. Best part is that I still get to help.

 

Here's Dad's 260Z out of the garage for the first time after I gently woke her following a twenty year slumber:

 

And here she is a couple months ago at my buddy's place undergoing an extensive restoration:

 

Happy Fathers Day guys.

[Patcon]

My dad has been gone 7 years now, but he bought a VW bug in Germany brand new in 1956. I learned to drive in that car as a teenager. He also had a 69? Mercury Comet with a 351 Windsor in it. Some of the best memories were Dad running us around the neighborhood as kids riding on the running boards of that VW or riding on the hood of the Comet holding on to the wipers.  

[Mikes Z car]

My dad let me drive his Porsche 928S (hope I got the number right) once back around 1970 or so.  What I remember best oddly enough is what I saw when he handed me the key after I got in the driver's seat.  It had key serrations or whatever they are called in the usual two dimensions plus down the side and I remember remarking "get a load of that key".  Must have been some sort of theft prevention.   

[psdenno]

So many stories that it's hard to pick just one.  Being a Baby Boomer, my early memorable driving experiences were all about sitting on my dad's lap and steering the '48 Buick Roadmaster while he worked the pedals.  Ahhh, the glory of the days before seatbelts strapped every passenger into a mandated zone of safety.

 

And as with almost all "Boomers", it was the dad's job to teach the 16 year old kid to drive.  We both survived that experience and my dad had the pleasure of taking me to the DMV to get my first Wisconsin Driver's License.  Many years later, my parents were visiting me on an extended car trip in California.  They went shopping, made a purchase, and my dad was asked to show his driver's license as a form of picture ID.  The clerk looked at his Wisconsin license and noted that it had expired the week before on his birthday.  He found himself 2,000 miles from home with an expired driver's license.

 

There were two solutions to cover the long drive home.  My mom could drive the 2,000 miles back to Wisconsin, or he could get a California driver's license.  Yes, I had the pleasure of taking my dad to the DMV to take his written test and get a California driver's license.  Sometimes life goes full circle.

Dennis

[siteunseen]

That is a wonderful life experience Dennis. Made me smile, finally, for the day.

Thank you.

[psdenno]

That is a wonderful life experience Dennis. Made me smile, finally, for the day.

Thank you.

Thanks for the kind words. I hope my kid someday fondly looks back at the time I let him drive when he was 9 years old. It was a rental car. It was in Hawaii. It was a real giggle. We're now beyond the point where he can file a complaint for child endangerment.

Dennis

[Mark Maras]

When I bought a SS 396 Chevelle, at the age of 19, My Mom asked to take it to the store. Oh No! I reminded her that it was a stick & had a lot of power, hoping to discourage her. She reminded me that she was very capable of driving a stick. I stayed inside. I couldn't watch. She managed to back it out of the driveway, got it onto the street & gave up, leaving the car in the street! She was really pi$$ed. When Dad got home she told him "There was no way I was going to keep that car" & it was his job, as my father, to tell me. He came & asked me for the keys. My heart sank. He had co-signed on the loan & was part owner. Leaving me without knowing what was going to happen, he turned & left the room. I heard the 396 fire up & go down the road. I was heartbroken. Fifteen minutes later, I hear it pulling in the driveway. ??? Dad comes in the house, wearing the biggest, silliest grin I had ever seen, tosses me the keys & tells me to have fun but be careful. He told me to leave for a while. I never did ask how that conversation with Mom went. All I know is that she never asked to drive it again but Dad loved to drive it. Dad has been gone almost two years now & I still can't quite believe it. He still seems so alive to me. Thanks dad.

[240260280z]

7 miles in on a logging road fishing. It was getting dark so we walked back out of the woods to my dad's truck.  It had a flat... no problem, there was a spare and a jack.... but no lug wrench.... he remembered using it and forgetting to put it back that day.

 

It was a great walk out to the nearest house. We had a wonderful talk.

[siteunseen]

7 miles in on a logging road fishing. It was getting dark so we walked back out of the woods to my dad's truck.  It had a flat... no problem, there was a spare and a jack.... but no lug wrench.... he remembered using it and forgetting to put it back that day.

 

It was a great walk out to the nearest house. We had a wonderful talk.

I bet there wasn't a word spoken about that lug wrench. 

[Redwing]

My best story is short. In Hialeah Fl. where I grew up, everyone was taken to the Hialeah horse racing track, to the huge parking lots to learn to drive. Dad took me in my Mother's 1953 Chevy, stick shift. For about an hour my Dad endured much neck snapping and bouncing into the dash. No seat belts then.

He drove me home and resolutely said to my Mother " she will never learn to drive!" So my Mother took over, and I never looked back. For me, driving an automatic transmission is not driving at all, to this day I love stick shift. The control!