(Not my actual grandparents, but the same car – image: kitfoster.com)
A recent article I read posited that most car fans recall their passion arising around age eight. While I can’t speak for all the others, that timeline certainly reflects my own experience. Unfortunately, most eight-year-olds enjoy neither access to cars nor any opportunity to choose a ride for themselves. Because of that, our younger selves looked to others when it came to feeding our passion for things mechanical; in my case, my Grandfather on my Mother’s side.
1975-78 Ford LTD from the Cohort (photo by Andrew T.)
On the other side of the family, my Dad’s father based his vehicle choices on practicality, not passion. As a lifelong farmer, he purchased tractors painted John Deere green and cars bearing a Blue Oval. Occasionally he’d update his fleet, albeit every time with another four-door sedan in mid-level trim and a small V8. This article was not inspired by his choices.
Instead, I recall my summer visits to Keister, Minnesota (population 750), where I would visit Grandpa G. and take in his latest automotive adventures. Grandpa owned a gravel company in that small Minnesota town, and spent his days working on a fleet of Ford dump trucks. Perhaps this daily exposure to American mainstream iron led to his eclectic fleet of vehicles; instead, I like to think he just naturally gravitated to the road less traveled, a path I, too, have chosen from time to time. For me, it was Grandfather G. who lit my automotive imagination, through both his chosen avocation and his many interesting vehicles.
I know about some of Grandpa’s cars only through my mother’s memories. In the late ’50s, Grandpa owned a couple of Volkswagen Beetles, and once he shared a memory of driving one on narrow, two-lane roads populated with slow moving trucks. The Bug could maintain a higher overall speed than the trucks, but not by much. Thus did each pass required a mighty struggle, with many attempts thwarted by oncoming cars. The Volkswagen built up a head of steam so slowly as to necessitate at least a half-mile’s worth of open passing lane. I remember the disgust in Mom’s voice as she recalled that “Not ONE of those trucks EVER slowed down to let me by.”
The first car that really inspired me was Grandpa G.’s pink 1956 Cadillac. I loved to go out in the driveway and pretend to drive this mighty steed. Before each adventure, I had to get permission from both Grandpa and Mother, and success was never assured. Mom believed I might damage the Cadillac, or perhaps knock it out of gear and roll down some deadly hill. Grandpa, however, was generally supportive, and from time to time I secured his permission. Rushing out to the driveway, I sat behind the wheel and dreamed of open roads and crossing the next crest.
Perhaps a ’56 Cadillac was not all that unusual in the biggest US cities, but it definitely was unique in Grandpa’s small farming community. Grandpa G. probably devoted a higher percentage of his income to automotive purchases than my Dad did, and I was always a little envious. Nowadays I’m facing four years of college costs and understand the fiscal choices my dad made, but at the time I wished he’d take a hint from Grandpa G. and live a little!
Grandpa’s wife was an automotive fan as well. When Studebaker brought out the Avanti, Grandpa G. purchased one for Grandma; she loved it so much that she drove it for almost 20 years. I didn’t know much about R-2 V-8 power back then, but I loved its bucket seats, aircraft inspired overhead switch gear, and cool trunk pass-through, which was mounted on the package shelf.
In fact, the Avanti affected several members of my family–my sister loved it so much that she always said she was going to buy one. While she has not yet acquired an Avanti, fate has placed her current home five blocks from the original site of the Studebaker factory, in South Bend, Indiana.
Image: The Classic Rover Forum
Throughout the late sixties and early seventies, my folks used to drive us from Michigan to Iowa, and we’d meet my Grandfolks at a rest stop on I-80. The trip took a full day for everyone. My folks and grandparents arrived back at their starting points as we kids went the full distance from Michigan to Minnesota. It was during this time that Grandpa acquired a Rover 2000 TC.
Once again I was fascinated by a unique automotive cockpit. Riding in the passenger’s seat, I would ask Grandpa what all the toggle switches did, and what all the strange international gauge icons meant.
Grandpa also owned a Mini Cooper, maybe my favorite car. At that age I couldn’t sample a car’s driving dynamics, so unique vehicle features tended to catch my eye. The Mini, with its sliding door glass and dual fuel fillers, provided many such automotive oddities. My Mom’s younger sister still lived at home when I was a kid, and she delighted in giving us wild rides in that rolling phone booth. The car’s small size and limited sound deadening gave us the feel of “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” every time we clambered in.
Image: oldinternationaltrucks.ca
Of course, as a working mechanic Grandpa also had a pickup. Yet even in this realm he stepped away from the conventional, eschewing Ford, Chevy, and Dodge in favor of an International KB-1. I don’t remember ever riding in it, but every time I see that classic International grille I’m transported back to his shop on Highway 22, watching him as he worked on a gravel truck while patiently answering my every question.
Grandpa also traveled throughout the country. In the early ’30s, he kept a journal describing a West coast trip. Together with his brother-in-law and his wife, he and Grandma, then newlyweds, traveled west through the Black Hills, across Wyoming, Utah and Nevada, and into San Francisco. In the journal, he wrote about roadside repairs and scouring junkyards for parts to keep his car and trailer in serviceable condition.
Forty years later, I remember him preparing a Dodge A-100 van for another lengthy trip. He trimmed and paneled the interior to build a home-made camper for an Alaskan trip. I didn’t make that Alaska trip, but did cover many miles on Minnesota highways while perched on a jump seat bolted to the A-100’s engine cover. The seat kept my butt very warm, provided me with a panoramic view out the windshield, and also placed me right next to my Grandpa. Despite the engine heat, it was very cool place.
Grandma and Grandpa were snowbirds who departed Minnesota at first snowfall to winter near Tampa Bay, Florida. To provide protection from the warm Florida sun, Grandpa had a small Airstream trailer. In 1974, he picked up a new car to pull it: an AMC Gremlin, equipped with a 304 V8! He owned that car for a few years. Shortly after I got my license, in 1977, I got a chance to make a solo drive to the grocery store. The driving dynamics were very one-dimensional, but my 16-year old brain REALLY liked that one dimension of acceleration, followed by more of the same.
Around the same time, Grandma sold her Avanti and picked up a very unusual replacement–a Renault Dauphine. Looking for economy in her retirement years, she enjoyed the size and frugality of that little car. I remember riding back home with her from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and recall the delight she expressed while fueling the car. The Dauphine’s fuel tank held about 4.5 gallons, and you had to open the (rear) engine cover to access it. Grandma enjoyed both the unusual filler location and small fill capacity. I think both she and Grandpa preferred to choose the less traveled road.
Image from the Cohort (photo by Davo_)
After Grandpa’s Dodge van wore out, he acquired a second-generation Volkswagen Van with a Westfalia Camper conversion. Grandma worked for Winnebago Industries, and may have been eligible for an employee discount on a new RV, but Grandpa valued the frugality and dimensions of the Volkswagen over the products of Forest City, Iowa. Once more the iconoclast, Grandpa covered many miles in this camper, returning once again to Alaska. Frankly, I wasn’t a big fan of the Westfalia. While it wasn’t the mainstream choice, it was the poster car for automotive rebellion, and thus too common for my taste.
In his final purchase, Grandpa finally left behind the unusual, and acquired an early-’80s Dodge Omni. Perhaps Dodge’s choice of a Volkswagen engine led Grandpa to buy this mass-produced appliance, but I always felt a tang of disappointment when Grandma and Grandpa pulled up in that little penalty box. While the Omni gave Grandpa great service, it was a practical rather than passionate choice. That little Omni represented the passing of an era–an era that launched me on a path of automotive passion.
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What an unusual grouping of cars. You got a much broader sampling of the automotive universe than most. I grew up on close terms with a neighbor’s R-2 Avanti and my mother’s 1980 Plymouth Horizon, but you have me on the others. I cannot imagine what possessed your grandmother to go from an Avanti to a Dauphine. But I guess we have all done similar things. My mother could not fathom why I straight traded a 68 Mustang for a 59 Plymouth Fury sedan.
I would certainly have enjoyed the experience of the 304 Gremlin – those things were quite fast for showroom stock cars of that era.
Thanks for taking us on a very interesting and enjoyable trip.
jp-
You’re welcome.
I’m sure a four-fold increase in gas prices contributed to Grandma’s choice, but I was pleased she chose an eqully interesting car to replace the Avanti. In addition, Mom tells me Grandpa owned a Caravelle before I came along, which may have given him more confidence when it came time to repair the Dauphine. D/S
Good article and photos. As a kid, my parents never owned any particularly interesting cars and I always enjoyed seeing (and occasionally riding in) something different. As an adult, I still enjoy looking at and photographing different cars. Variety is good. My mom used to have an ’85 Omni with the 2.2 litre engine and a 5-speed stick. It had a heavy clutch and a clunky shifter, but it moved along pretty well. By the way, I see an old green International KB identical to the one in your article all the time in our neighborhood. It’s always parked in front of a local butcher shop that also features specialty products and local produce, and it’s sometimes loaded with corn or watermelons or other produce.
Funny that this should come so soon after the entry on the Chevrolet Biscayne. My grandfather always had them, each traded in on a new one about every three years at Ruby Chevrolet in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. We would visit in the summer and the first one I remember (barely) was a 1956 One-Fifty (not a Biscayne, but the equivalent, I think). I know he had comparable Chevys before that. The last one was a Bel Air, I guess because he couldn’t get a Biscayne. As my mother used to joke, they had a picture of a clock on the dash where the clock would be if he had ordered one. The interiors always smelled like Kool cigarettes.
He was a supervisor with Wisconsin Electric Power Company and regularly drove to the site of any outage. Each car had two-way radio equipment mounted in the trunk and a whip antenna. This was always fastened down to a clip in the rain gutter when not in use, forming a graceful arc. A mounted set of snow tires were kept in the garage.
Even though my father tended to buy top-of-the-line cars or optional trim packages, I never had a negative view of grandpa’s plain Chevrolets. Their plainness made them seem so solid and functional to me.
In addition to no clock, one of those Biscaynes had pictures of pleats where the pleats would be if you had ordered better upholstery. I kid you not. Nylon material made to look as though it were pleated.
It’s amazing the lengths they went To pull this extent of denial to reality… pleated Patterns On Flat Cloth, Book Covers With No Book Attached Better Than Books!… see lauren conrad… tops that look like convertibles but aren’t , no use uses them in the heat, traffic… not safe – too vulnerable position you are placing yourself , in stopped traffic, increase as cost of car increases…
TARGETTing you for a CRIMINALS mind
As A kid I loved The Chevy Step ladder, I just did not like 2 speed Chevys.
I didn’t think of it, but knowing my grandfather, his Chevrolets were probably sixes with Powerglide. A V-8 with Turbo-Hydramatic might have been an unnecessary extravagance to him.
“the first one I remember (barely) was a 1956 One-Fifty (not a Biscayne, but the equivalent, I think).”
The One-Fifty represented the same trim level in the full-size Chevy lineup of the mid ’50s as the Biscayne did from 1959 onward. In 1956, of course, the standard Chevy was a lot smaller than it would be later on, and Chevy wasn’t selling anything smaller/cheaper than the low end of the standard line, so its market positioning was a bit different.
My grandfather loved nice cars. The first one that I remember was an early 50s Buick Roadmaster. It was maroon with a black top, and all the options, including power windows. He gave this car to my uncle.
His next car was a 1959 Impala, four door “flat top”. It was black with a bright red interior; very flashy. I loved that car. It was straight from the future.
Grampa gave the 59 to my grandmother and bought a new 1964 Impala SS. It was silver with a black vinyl top and interior. It was stunning with the engine turned trim and chrome and black interior. It was on display at a new car show. He negotiated the deal at the show, and picked it up when the show was over.
In December 1966, Grampa bought a 1967 GTO. It was the most beautiful car I had ever seen. It was Montego cream, with black vinyl top and interior, Rally I wheels, red stripe tires, and a dual pinstripe down each side. It had the 350 hp 400, and auto trans with a Hurst dual gate shifter. He let me drive it one time on a Sunday afternoon; with him, Grandma, and my mother riding along. That was quite an honor. I was pretty nervous; I was glad to let him get back behind the wheel.
He loved the GTO. It was a love affair that lasted 20 years, until he died at 81. He could have had other cars, but he wasn’t interested in those “bed pan” engines that came along in the 70s. The GTO became mine, and I still own it. It’s a clean, unrestored, original car. I feel the same way about it that Grampa did.
I’d like add that Grampa was an avid hunter and fisherman. He used his cars to tow his boat, and bring home deer and elk. They really were “sport” utility vehicles.
Neat story about your grandfather. What a privilege to actually own his GTO!
My paternal grandfather always had nice cars. My Dad said Grandad’s first car was a 1920’s Chandler. Dad said it was the typical gangsters’ car of movie fame. Four door open car with celluloid curtains for windows and side mounts.
Then came a series of Dodges, a 31, 37, and a 41, all 4 door sedans. (one or two Model A Fords were acquired as beaters.) He then bought some sort of early 50’s Chrysler sedan, which was wrecked by one of my Dad’s brothers.
When my Grandad died in 1962, he had a 56 Cadillac coupe very much like the one shown, but yellow with a black top. He bought it used, or previously owned, had 25K when he died. His other car was a 57 Dodge Coronet 4 door, mint green and white 2 tone, had 7K when he passed. Both cars were in beautiful sterling condition, never driven to work, never driven in the rain.
My Dad really wanted the Caddy. Of course, he didn’t get it. His brother got the car and destroyed it in a very short time. The Coronet went to my Dad’s younger sister, who didn’t take care of it. I last saw it in 1966, it was rusted out and ready for the junk yard.
My grandfather was a man typical for the era. He never drove a car to work, walked or rode the bus. He always garaged his cars, and kept them washed and polished. A week or so before he died, he asked my Dad to start both cars up, and run them. When my Dad asked him if he wanted him to drive them a bit, Grandad emphatically told him NO.
As a post script, I never rode in any of my grandfather’s cars, never sat in any. I don’t think anyone did, including my grandmother.
Your scenario very much reminds me of my grandfather.
He started with motorcycles with sidecars. Then, a series of Oaklands. When GM replaced Oaklands with Pontiacs, he was forced to switch. He had a ’38 (which we inherited in 1951), then a ’51. These were always garaged and always washed on Sundays. In 1963 (he stuck to an unwavering 12 year cycle!) he couldn’t fit a conventional Pontiac into his garage and so ended up with a ’63 Olds F-85. That was his last car. It was still kept up immaculately, except for the bumpers which looked like spaghetti after all the bumps and mini collisions that accompanied failing eyesight.
With customers like him GM would never have gone bankrupt. With customers like his grandson (well over 100 cars, only one of which was made by GM), the end was inevitable.
“except for the bumpers which looked like spaghetti after all the bumps and mini collisions that accompanied failing eyesight.”
That describes my Grandpa Skinner’s final Ford as well. His fifties era garage was too small for that malaise era boat, and both sides were replete with scratches and minor dents from “parking by braille.” D/S
A cornucopia.
Thanks for sharing
Neither of my Grandfathers drove. Actually, my father’s father did own a 1920s Chevrolet when he was a gynecologist in Germany for some years, but he had to hire a driver to take him on his rounds, since he couldn’t get the hang of it.
My Fathers father, drove in My lifetime… well was Driven Around by Leroy in a Black Fleetwood Cadillac… 1964 Taillights IIRC… later had a 66, which one day Leroy drove off in. Leaving Ollie his cook to add Driving to her Duties, Buick LeSabre 68, Silver/Black Vinyl roof that became hers when the 74 Green LeSabre Custom replaced it … 10 years before his passing…at age 104.
It was Ollie whose KY pride kept them from riding in a “Snooty” car as she considered them, and I’d feel terrible if I crashed one… shed say…
Hah! Leroy, you dog you! Get back here with my Cadillac!
Good history (and my father had two Rover 2000TCs) but I’m puzzled by the timeline.
Your grandmother got an Avanti “when they first came out” (1962) and “drove it for almost 20 years” (so until about 1980).
And then she got a Renault Dauphine? Surely there were none left by then?
Nope- The timeline is correct.
I don’t know where they found the Dauphine, but I recall riding around in it while in high school which was the late seventies. Perhaps she only kept the Avanti for fifteen years or so, but the Dauphine absolutely replaced it.
I know midwest cars tended to melt from rust in the cities where they used lots of salt, but out on the country roads the cars saw much less salt. When we visited his home town, My Dad used to call a badly rusted car a “city car” and the cleaner local cars “farm cars.” So the Dauphine (while certainly a little rusty) must have been a farm car. D/S
Bizarre. The last Dauphine I remember seeing on the road belonged to the family of someone in my class at elementary school – and that was in the early 1970s near Vancouver, where salt isn’t common either.
Great story, love the variety.
My Grandfather on my Father’s side was a traveling salesman for Crown Cork & Seal, selling bottle caps and bottling equipment throughout the Northeast. He had a stream of Chevrolets (way before I was born) always black (in case he had to go to a funeral), generally trading them after 2 years when they had about 100,000mi on them. In the ’50’s he upgraded to Oldsmobiles, owning a string of them. I think I remember his 1960 model and I remember his ’64, but that was the last car he owned. He passed away in 1966 after having a stroke. My Dad tells a story about he ’53 Olds… Back then, cars only had 5 digit odometers and in the course of 2-3 years, my Grandfather could easily roll up 40,000 – 50,000mi/year. Although the mechanical parts had a lot of miles on them, the interior and other bits were only 3 years old. When he went to trade his car in, with 135,000mi, the dealer inspected it and could see some signs of wear (driver’s seat, floor mat, pedals). He told my Grandfater, “Ah, you think you can fool me by rolling back the odometer and get a better trade-in. I know this car doesn’t have 35,000mi on it, I’ll only give you the trade-in value for a 50,000mi car.” Who was my Grandfather to argue with the guy, he accepted the trade-in offer. To her dying day, my paternal Grandmother never learned to drive.
My Mother’s parents were noticeable less well-to-do. Before my Grandparent’s got married, my Grandmother had a 1930’ish Chevrolet Roadster (we have photos) which she bought herself and used to drive to her job in a bank in Lynn, MA. After they were married and that car died, my Grandparents went without any car for the war years and most of the ’50’s. They bought a ’55 or ’56 Pontiac (I don’t remember the model, but the car was turquoise & white), then a ’61 or ’62 Pontiac LeMans (I was told it had the half-a-V8 4 cylinder engine, but I never saw it). In December 1965 my Parent’s bought a 1965 Plymouth Sport Furry convertible, gold with gold interior and white top (383 2bbl Commando V8). This car must have really influenced my Grandparents because they bought a ’65 Plymouth Sport Satellite coupe gold with gold interior (273 V8). I really loved that car and hoped to make it mine (realize I was 6 when they bought it). We had some family falling outs that caused us not to see my maternal grandparents for a number of years. When we finally saw them again, I asked about the Plymouth, but they had bought a ’77 Buick LeSabre coupe, orange with white interior and white vinyl top (brohoughamatic). That turned out to be their last car. In his next-to-last job, my Grandfather worked for JF White Construction and got use of an orange Ford F-150/250 pick-up in the early and mid ’60’s. I remember driving around it that with him. Later in his final job, he worked as caretaker for the Madonna Hall for Girls in Marlborough, MA. When he worked their he had access to the Ford station wagons (usually Ranch Wagons) that the Nuns owned. He’d use them to pick-up donated food and other things for the Nuns.
Awesome write up on an interesting range of cars, thank you!
With some British and European cars of the P6’s vintage, I wouldn’t be surprised if when you asked what the toggle switches did, your grandfather replied, “Well, you know, grandpa has been trying to figure that out himself…”
LOL-
The article does not discuss all aspects of european car ownership. I do recall the Rover had a sensor on the front bumper that turned on a warning light when the road temperature dropped near freezing, to alert the driver of possible icing.
I also recall that many times when we visited, one or more of Grandpa’s cars were perched on jackstands in his garage. As always, the penalty for uniqueness. D/S
My mom’s dad was born in Russia and lived mostly in China until the late ’30’s. A few old family photo’s show bits of 1920′ and ’30’s cars in Harbin or Shanghai, one definitely a Citroen. After he died, I inherited some more family photos, and learned that he and his brother and some friends had driven a new Ford across the US in the mid-’30’s. The only times I saw him with a car here in the US (he lived on the other side of the country) was in the mid-70’s – he owned a slant-six Dodge Dart Swinger.