Mike Tussey: All about the love affair with the cars of our lives. . . oh the memories!

For most of us, our second most important purchase would be that of your car.

Without any doubt, the first would be the purchase of your home.

These two items obviously own a huge part of any family budget and even a ton of attention. Or at least they should, because they are indeed an investment.

The cars of our lives somehow slip into our persona because they can reflect in a small way, who we are or wish we could be.

Make no mistake; our cars can be a love affair for us. We fall in love with them, even give them names. We pamper them and when no one is looking, we even talk to them.

As far as I know, there is no record of any car ever responding to the love and care we give them. Our cars can resonate with our personalities, their color tells you a lot; the distinct size of the engine could be a small 4 cylinder or a powerful V8.

Some are simply a “work vehicle”; some are glamorous; some sadly are disrespected and abused.

However, at the end of the day, it’s what we can afford and nevertheless, they become of vital part of our lives.

Each of us regardless of our ages and life history, have vivid memories of the “Cars of Our Lives.” Please join me for some of those memorable cars many of which have left indelible marks in my life. I’m sure you have them too. I came across some vintage photos to reflect these wonderful cars, sadly, some photos are faded a bit, but it goes with yesteryear.

First, there was our family’s 1939 grey Plymouth sedan which through the 40’s and 50’s was a workhorse traveling through my youthful years and even to our relatives in Indiana. Nothing special about the car, it was just there.

Keep in mind, these cars all had standard transmission and no power steering.

Then, there was the 1948 Dodge sedan. This car inherited the family’s routine and even long trips. It even had a phenomenal new feature called “Fluid Drive.” This was a historic standard transmission that allowed the driver to let the clutch out all the way without the engine dying. By the way, there was an AM radio in the car too.

It was really a forerunner of the automatic transmission that was on the horizon. In 1954 I took my driver’s test with the big Dodge. The Fluid Drive saved me from stalling, but parallel parking was not fun without power steering and there were no directional signals to use. You had to use the manual signs each time you made a move it seemed. Somehow, I luckily passed.

The year earlier in 1953, my uncle had bought a brand new Plymouth Cranbrook sedan. It was grey like the old 1939 model. I remember the excitement within our family for the new Plymouth. This vehicle had a new feature back then, a one piece windshield. However, everything else was about the same with a standard transmission and an AM radio.

In 1955, I began working part time at Sears and eventually the old ‘48 Dodge became mine. It was great to have, but burned as much oil as it did gas. I kept a Sears 10 quart oil can in the trunk out of necessity. But, she was mine and more importantly, I had independence.

By now, I was in college and in the fall of 1957 I traded for a 1953 Chevy 2 door hardtop. It was light green, standard shift, and she was mine. I had a lot of pride in that car, really did.

A new decade arose, it was now 1960 and my college years behind me, I went to work at a local Bank.

Soon thereafter, I found my dream car.

It was a 1956 Chevy Bel Air convertible, white top, V8, automatic transmission, power steering and even a “Wonder Bar” Radio which was really a forerunner of the scan on radios today. I was now 22 and it was time to enhance my new ride. Just a couple of cool additions were added such as “Tear Drop” fender skirts, and of course, spinners on the front wheels. I was cruising in style with the top down one night in 1961 at the historic Bluegrass Grille in Ashland, Kentucky. This would be a night to remember as I met my wife, Camilla Jo.

Later we traded for a dandy 1963 Chevy II SS Convertible and we were set, but not for long.

A few years later, Chevrolet had introduced a small compact model called the Corvair. The new model caught our eye and we decided to purchase our first “new car.” It was unique for an American vehicle to have an engine in the rear, but it was beautiful, willow green with white bucket seats.

The TV commercials boasted that the new Corvair gave better traction and handling, but the shape and style of the new Corvair was undoubtedly for us. At that time there was consumer advocate, Ralph Nader, who condemned the new Corvair because it was allegedly unstable and not safe. My wife and I never heard that allegation, so to us, we were unaware of any such problems.

A date in history I have never forgotten is September 10, 1965. I was on my way to broadcast a football game, the rain was pouring so hard, the streets were full of puddles. I was negotiating a curve and the Corvair hydroplaned and fishtailed. I lost control. I crossed the center line and collided with a 1964 Gran Prix Pontiac head on.
With no seatbelt on and no engine up front, the big Pontiac’s impact was devastating. The photo tells it all.

I somehow survived, but the Corvair was totaled.

I was injured, but recovered quickly so it was time to replace the Corvair. It didn’t take long as our next car was a 1965 full sized Impala Chevy SS, 2 door hardtop, V8 right off the showroom floor.

I am sure if you sat down and counted all the cars you have owned of the many years, your list would be many as well.

Here’s the litany of our cars for the next several years: ‘67 Impala, ’69 Olds Cutlass, ‘73 Pontiac Grand Prix, ’85 Chevy Monte Carlo, 1988 Ford Mustang Convertible which was in our family from 1990-2009. Others were a ’89 Buick Regal, ’95 Olds Delta 88 Royale, ’98 Nissan Maxima, and even a ’59 Nash Metropolitan.

All these vehicles served us well over the years, and then it happened, the unexpected.

It was 2007, our next door neighbor was an elderly lady and her late husband had bought a new 2002 Chevy Malibu Luxury Sedan. It was totally loaded with every amenity made. She was visiting us one afternoon and complaining that she had to pay insurance on the car and didn’t drive any longer. She stated that her son periodically put some miles on it, but basically it stayed in the garage. I asked her if she wanted to sell it and she responded, “ Do you want to buy it?” I told her that perhaps I would and she gave the keys to go look at it.

What I found was the proverbial car that was owned by a little old lady who never drove it. It was indeed immaculate, it had every extra that Chevy put on a vehicle which included, leather seats, sun roof, V6, alloy wheels, like new Michelin tires, spoiler, even mud flaps!

I checked the odometer and it read, 19,074. That meant, it was only driven 3800 miles per year over the previous 5 years.

I asked her if she wanted to sell it for sure, and she said yes. We made a deal, and I bought it the next day. 16 years have passed since that day and that very same 2002 Malibu rests in our garage with only 67,255 miles on the odometer today.

That computes to only 3200 miles a years since 2009.

It’s still in tremendous shape because all the timely maintenance was done right on time.

My wife and I just call her “Mali” and the way she responds and performs with our trips around Florence and the immediate area, she seems to be smiling and saying, “THANKS!”

My advice is simple to those who have a fine vehicle in your garage or driveway: “Take care of your car, and it will take care of you.”