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My First Car

My First Car: A Compilation of Stories

Extra Mile Staff

Do you remember your first car? Of course you do. Perhaps you have fond memories of showing off your “hand-painted” ride or struggling with an unfamiliar transmission.

We asked drivers to tell us about their first cars–for better or worse–and what they mean to them. From used cars filled with so much spare change that they practically paid for themselves to Flintstone-esque cabin floors, we’re still chuckling at these stories. Check them out, and tell us in comments what you remember most about your first car.

The “No Smoking” Lesson

My first car was a teal blue Chevy Chevette – a.k.a. the Tin Can. One summer, while still in college, I was flying down I-95, flicking the ashes of a Virginia Slim out of the open window (the Tin Can had no A/C). Like many college grads, I enjoyed apartment living, but traveled home to take advantage of my parents’ sanitary, secure and free laundry facilities.

Then, I smelled smoke. The cigarette ashes had flown out of my window and back through a passenger window, landing in my laundry basket. I pulled into the nearest rest stop, grabbed the smoldering clothes and watered them down in the public restroom. When I finally arrived home, humbled and humiliated, my gracious parents didn’t say a word. They knew that I had learned the “no smoking” lesson the hard way. — Sue P.

No Smoking First Car

The Penny-Mobile

My first car was a yellow Subaru. My mother bought it for me from a co-worker for $50 when I was a sophomore in high school. The funny thing is that the back seat floor was covered in pennies. After I collected them, they totaled $23. So, all in all, the total cost of the car was $27. That $27 car lasted until my freshman year of college. I’d say that was a great investment. — Dawn B.

The Standard Transmission

My first car was a bright yellow 1973 Chevy Vega. My dad took me to the used car lot where he had already picked out the car and completed the transaction. When the dealer gave me the keys, I was SUPER excited! But once I got behind the wheel, it became apparent to me that there was a BIG problem. This car had three floor pedals and I had no idea what to do with them.

My dad had already driven off, essentially abandoning me. So, the sales guy had to walk me through the basics of driving a standard transmission. Before I left, I asked him for a marker and a piece of cardboard on which I wrote, “NEW STANDARD DRIVER…STAY BACK!” I taped it in the rear window and chugged and stalled my way home. My dad was a trial-by-fire type of guy and this was no exception. — Maureen N.

First Car Stick Shift

The Yearbook

My first car was a (very) used 1991 Volvo 740 with something like 184,000 miles on it – the kind of boxy, maroon sedan that you might picture when you think of a Volvo. My older sister drove it first, and I paid her a savings-clearing $1,000 to make it mine when I turned 16.

When she bought it, there wasn’t any fabric on the ceiling, so it became a tradition for passengers to carve their names into the ceiling foam. By the time I was done with it, there were 5 years of high school history carved into that foam, a sort of yearbook of car rides.

I couldn’t tell you where I went the first time I drove it alone, but it couldn’t have been anywhere outside of a 5-mile radius. It wasn’t exactly the most reliable car, so any further would have been a risk. I learned to expect that it might not start at any given moment – an important life lesson for any young driver (but maybe I’m biased).

It was constantly in the shop, usually just for minor fixes. Once, after a quick fix that got it started again, I discovered a new feature: turning on my lights also turned on my windshield wipers! Not the best for night driving, but at least it was running! — Molly F.

The Dream Car

I remember the year I turned 16. My main focus was getting my license. I signed up for my driving test the very first day I could and passed. The next day, my amazing parents came through with my dream car. It was supposed to be for my mom and me to “share,” but I sort of had that wonderful lady wrapped around my finger.

The car was a brand new white Dodge Shadow convertible with blue interior – a dream car for any 16-year-old girl. In hindsight, it was a terribly-made car and sounded like there was a bird in the engine from the first week I drove it.

That car was the backdrop to so many memories with my friends. I brought it to college in Boston my junior year, but by the time I graduated, it was hard to ignore the Shadow’s shortcomings. I traded it in for an embarrassingly low amount and signed a lease on a Nissan Altima. This transition to my first grown-up car was about more than just driving. It was about putting aside the careless revelry of my teenage years and embracing myself as a fully-realized adult. — Ellyn S.

First Car

The Green Dragon

It was 1972 when I bought a 1962 Ford Falcon for 100 bucks. It had been hand-painted (by brush) a bright emerald green. The passenger-side floor had a large hole, which had been covered by a piece of plywood. If you pushed the board aside, you would see the road beneath the car. The muffler was a little loud, too. Perhaps it was rusted or pitted.

One evening, I was giving my mom a ride. I’m pretty sure she was a bit embarrassed to be seen in the “Green Dragon,” but she never made any comments. When we came to an intersection, I noticed a police car on the right side of the road. I turned left to avoid it. That didn’t help.

The next thing I knew, there were lights flashing behind us. The officer told me that I had to have the muffler repaired, which I did. However, the weight of the new muffler and exhaust pipes pulled a chunk of the engine right off. Thus, the Green Dragon was slain. — David M.

The Alpine Stereo

The first car I could truly call “mine” was my mom’s 1991 Dodge Dynasty, passed down to me in high school. The gear shift was a part of the steering column, and I had hung bracelets and other “decorations” from it, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t all that safe.

I had bobblehead dogs and cats all across the back window area – probably a dozen of them, all different sizes and colors. Whenever I came to a stop light, I’d catch myself looking at them in the rearview mirror as they bobbed and jammed to whatever was on the radio.

Speaking of the radio, I had installed an Alpine stereo. Mine had flashing lights around the outside of the cover, which you had to remove whenever you parked so that no one would break into your car to steal it. For anyone who doesn’t know what an Alpine stereo is, I can assure you, it was very cool. — Teresa N.

The Installment Plan

I was late in getting my license – I think I was around 21. My first car was a used silver Dodge Omni. I don’t remember the year but it’s safe to say it was from the early ‘80s. I bought it from my close friend’s dad for around $600 and he let me pay for it in installments. It was basically a tin can on four wheels. Not my dream car, to say the least, but it got me from Point A to Point B for a little while – a very little while.

Not even six months later, I was driving home at around 1 a.m. when the engine light came on and I was forced to pull over. There were no cell phones at the time so I had to get out of the car and walk back to the service station I had passed to use their phone to call home. Not the safest thing to do on a very dark highway!

My older brother answered. Needless to say, he was not happy that I (a) woke him up and (b) made him come get me. We had to leave the car on the highway and have it towed back home later. I got it running again just long enough for me to trade it in and buy a used red Nissan Sentra. — Beth H.

The Queen Mary

My first car was a 1971 Chevy Caprice, with a hefty V8 engine. My two high school best friends and I named this tank “The Queen Mary,” since she could comfortably seat eight people – perfect for cruising around on Friday and Saturday nights. While we drove, it was very important for us to have our music blaring from this gem.

Unfortunately, this luxury vehicle was equipped with only an AM radio. So, whoever was fortunate enough to be sitting in the large front seat bench was in charge of changing the cassettes of our favorite 80s musicians (Prince was always my preference) on my huge boom box.

Not only was Mary a mode of transportation for all of us big-haired, Aqua Net 80s girls, she also came in quite handy when we needed to move a tent from one friend’s house to another’s. We didn’t want to disassemble it – that would be too much work (or so we thought). Instead, one of us had the ingenious idea to throw it on top of Mary’s roof, and drive it up the hill to its next destination.

Little did we realize that it would slip and slide all over the place as I was driving. We each had an arm out of the window to secure it, but it eventually crept down the windshield which made it a bit challenging to see where I was going. We eventually made it to where we were going, and even after 28 years, the three of us still laugh about it. — Shelly G.

The Lost Luggage

My first car was a blue Chevy Chevette two-door hatchback. What can I say? I was a college student and my brother was nice enough to co-sign for the car loan. While in college, I attended a student government conference in Washington D.C. We managed to pack five or six people, and our luggage, into the car. There was so much luggage that the hatch didn’t close – we held it down with a bungee cord.

On the way home, we lost a piece of luggage. We pulled over to check to see whose bag had been strewn across the highway in the middle of the night. But, no one was missing a bag. We had somehow grabbed someone else’s suitcase before leaving D.C. Don’t think we got away with that, though. We ended up losing something else on the way home…the car’s muffler. — Lucie J.

First Car Trunk Overload

The “Still Available”

Being one of the younger people in my grade, I was also one of the last to get my license, and therefore, my first car. At that age, we all wanted to be different and stand out a bit. So, as I watched my friends come into their new cars, I made a mental list of what cars were already “taken.”

After what seemed like an eternity, my parents finally brought me to a Volkswagen dealership. I looked around for a while but everything in my price range looked like it would break down as soon as it left the lot. I wandered over to where the newer vehicles were parked, knowing that I couldn’t afford any of those cars but still wanting to window-shop.

Nestled between two newer vehicles was a white 1992 VW Passat with manual transmission. According to my list, this car was still “available.” I ran over to parents and told them I had found it, I had found my first car. They chuckled when I told them the details because they knew that it was probably out of my price range (and that I had never driven a manual transmission car before).

But when they spoke to the salesman, we found out that its price was within our budget. After almost an hour of negotiating, the car was finally mine. A couple of days later, we went back to pick it up and that weekend, my dad took me to an empty parking lot and taught me how to drive it. — Brandon D.

Let’s Reminisce

Whether your first car had a cool name like The Green Dragon, or it taught you an important life lesson like Sue’s anecdote, we want to hear it.  Leave a comment and keep the memory of your first car alive.

No matter what car you’re driving, it’s important to have the right auto insurance coverage for your needs.

27 Responses to "My First Car: A Compilation of Stories"
    • Greg A Youngblood | February 11, 2021 at 12:49 pm

      My dad worked for Monsanto and, in the fall of 1972, one of his co-workers told him that he had a car to sell. Dad knew I needed a car so, for $100, he bought me a 1962 Volkswagen Beetle. However, there was a caveat. The Beetle had a blown engine! A family friend came over the following weekend and we hauled the engine out of the Beetle. We found the engine needed a new piston and cylinder head. For $62 we got the parts we needed, put the engine back together, and it ran perfectly! I had the car for two years and then swapped it to my dad for his Toyota Corolla station wagon, and he used the Beetle as a trade-in for a truck. I have no idea how much he got for it as a trade-in but it couldn’t have been much. All I know is it was a fun first car!

    • James | February 11, 2021 at 12:54 pm

      My first car was a 1957 ford that I paid $250. The car had a 312 engine with a 2 speed automatic transmission. I won a lot of drag races with it in my class. I will buy another one if I can find one in good shape for a good price. I don’t like these new car’s because they have so much junk on them that can go wrong.

    • bessie M shavers | February 11, 2021 at 5:33 pm

      My first car was a 1970 Toyota Corolla, purchased in Southern Ca. My sister and friends called me ‘the turtle’ ’cause I was careful with my car and didn’t drive fast(all of them wanted to drive fast, but none had cars). We drove that car to Ohio in 1974. I had trouble getting repairs ’cause we lived in an area where there was a General Motors plant and most people drove GMC cars. I got rid of my car because the auto shops didn’t have ‘metric tools’ at that time to work on Toyotas. I have since driven several more Toyotas and currently drive a 2014 Toyota Camry

    • Stephanie Evans | February 12, 2021 at 11:06 am

      I didn’t get my drivers license until I was 26. My sister sold me her really beat up yellow Gremlin for 500.00. I thought I had been set free having a car at my disposal instead of relying on public transportation. I used it to get it work and school but didn’t trust it too much farther than that. When the muffler got holes in my husband wrapped orange juice cans with wire around the tailpipe but it still sounded like a really old loud car. She was literally held together with wire. The hood flew up on me when I was on the highway; more wire; windows wouldn’t close; more wire. After about 2 years the brakes it needed cost more than the car so I reluctantly had it scrapped. I was emotional about the whole process because of the freedom it had afforded me.

    • Michael DeShurley | February 12, 2021 at 11:13 am

      1976 GrantsPass Ore,Jr.yr Caveman HS(Caveman Auto Body-dads) 65 Chevelle SS 283 small block 4-v . Skip school town cruiser ! Gas station frequently ! Gas mileage was more better looking than MPG ?

    • Chuck | February 12, 2021 at 11:31 am

      Like many guys back in 1970, once I received my driver’s license I couldn’t wait to have a car of my own. Not long afterwards, my brother purchased an Oldsmobile Cutlass, so I was gifted his previous car, a 1963 Plymouth Fury, by my father. The brown beast had clearly seen its better days, but this car was mine, my status symbol, my chick magnet. In addition to its multiple scratches, dents, and rust spots, the Fury was not equipped with power steering, and the ball joints were so loose that the front end shook whenever the vehicle encountered railroad tracks or a meaningful bump in the road. As a result, the steering had so much play that the car wanted to drift from side to side, which made controlling its direction a challenge for this 17 year old. Undaunted, I had the ball joints replaced and enjoyed toying with its push button gear selector, which was a cool feature back in the day. I would also take the air cleaner out to give the engine a throaty sound when accelerating, and meticulously strove to touch up and repair the multiple flaws in the car’s paint. Taking a car load of friends for a ride after school made me feel like a big man on campus. Eventually, one obstacle to the joy of car ownership proved to be too much for me. Because my brother never bothered to do any maintenance, the engine burned an excessive amount of oil, so much so that the neighborhood was taken over by a cloud of gray, noxious smoke at cold start. Even multiple cans of STP oil treatment could not stem the flow of oil consumption. This issue finally came to a head on a hot summer night when, after shutting off the engine long enough to chat with some friends, it would not restart due to the heat and the engine’s lack of compression. I was then forced to wait for the engine to cool off before it would restart, much to the glee of my pals. Sufficiently shamed in front of my peers, I made it known that this albatross had to go, and shortly thereafter sold it for the princely sum of $35.00. Apparently not having learned my lesson, I later bought a 1969 MGB, which in its own mystical way introduced me to a whole new world of what could possibly go wrong with a car, but that is another story for another time. I so miss those fun and frustrating days of my youth.

    • Jack Bresser | February 13, 2021 at 11:10 am

      I was 15 when I found my ‘dream car’, a ’32 Plymouth 4dr sedan. It was a barn find. 100 bucks later it came home to my parents backyard. In the next 3yrs I took the body off the frame and installed a ’55 olds 324ci with 4 stromberg 97 deuces on a Edelbrock manifold, a 3/4 race cam, milled heads, hydromatic tranny and 410 rear gears in a ’54 Old’s axle. The car only weighed 2,500 lbs finished and was very fast. Many years later I now drive a ’40 Ford Tudor Sedan fully restored with two Stromberg 97’s, aluminum heads, Red’s headers, electronic ignition and Gear-Vendor’s overdrive. I’m 71 yrs old, I guess I’ll never grow up.

    • Rick Golden | February 13, 2021 at 11:22 am

      I worked as a paper boy for five years in the early 1960,s and saved money for my first car. I bought a 1955 Ford 2 door from our neighbor for $75. It was no beauty, but waxed it cleaned it up the best I could. It was a 6 cylinder stick shift on the column.
      About 3 months after I owned the car, I was headed home with 4 friends in the car and the engine blew up out in the country about 8 miles from home.
      We all had to hitch hike to get home.
      Next day my dad and I went out to my car and Dad towed me home with a rope. The car went to Junk Yard. My first 3 years of driving I owned 5 different cars.

    • Robert Bielenberg | February 13, 2021 at 11:27 am

      It was 1968. I was home from college, celebrating Christmas with my family in Illinois. My gift that year was a tiny Fiat that had been the family’s second car. It was very basic, no bells and whistles, noisy and uncomfortable, but it was now mine. I was grateful to have it and looking forward to seeing more of Denver than my campus. On the drive west, in the middle of rural Nebraska, the engine overheated and siezed. Neither the oil light nor the engine light had come on. After having the vehicle towed more than 100 miles to the nearest dealership, I learned that fewer than 1,000 of this model had ever been imported into the US. No replacement engine could be found. Having no other choice, I sold the Fiat for scrap and caught a bus to Denver. Sadly, my first car lasted me less than a week!

      • Extra Mile Staff | February 13, 2021 at 6:45 pm

        Oh no!

    • Kathy Connors | February 13, 2021 at 12:10 pm

      My first car was a 1950 Hillman convertible, which I bought from an elderly couple in Santa Barbara, CA, when I was 20 and had recently moved to SB with a friend from Portland, OR, and a high school friend from Montana. It was a fun little car, but the convertible top had been painted, and when we put the top down the first time the paint started flaking off. From then on paint chunks went flying every time we drove her. 😂

    • john gorman | February 13, 2021 at 12:36 pm

      Gift of 1942 Plymouth in 1955, but because of WW2 going on, when built in 42; no copper was used inside the motor block and thus rust clogged the radiator; thus one had to carry gallons of water in glass jars in the car and every 10 miles stop; turn off engine and pour in water. Longest trip; 18 miles one way. Filled my water bottles in a creek. The good ole days! LOL

      • Extra Mile Staff | February 13, 2021 at 6:44 pm

        Wow!

    • john gorman | February 13, 2021 at 1:00 pm

      Present old car, 1985 Benz diesel, Presently 321,000 miles on original engine and running like a top. Engine has never had any repairs. Went to factory in Germany picked it up March 1985, drove it six months in Germany, shipped to USA east coast. Has set outside in all weather as of next month 31 years one small rust spot in fender well. I wouldn’t be afraid to leave the first day of summer and drive from Potomac River, near Washington DC to Pacific ocean in San Francisco. One taxi driver in Athens Greece, who owned the car had bought it new with the original engine that had; (Copied: from MB web site: The current Mercedes-Benz High Mileage champ is Gregorios Sachinidis, a Greek taxi driver who holds the known record of more than 2.8 million miles in his 1976 Mercedes-Benz 240D.) By those standers my 1985 engine is just getting broke in. LOL) Of course in Virginia I paid personnel property tax on it for 25 years; “”good ole taxes.””

    • Richard Londgren | February 13, 2021 at 1:43 pm

      In the 23 books I’ve written (most on Amazon), I refer to my ’29 Ford Model A sedan as one of 11 Fords our family has owned, currently including our two “orphan” Mercuries as the last of that “breed.” And I have mini-Ford models displayed in my office. At one time, I had hoped to restore a Model A–but chickened out and just read a book about how to restore that Ford. My latest book on Amazon features a graphic of my “interrobang” on the cover with the title “ASK & ASSERT,” and it includes a reproduction of the “TIME” cover with a story about the “drive” and innovations by Henry Ford. Thanks for listening (on e-Kindle) and maybe buying my books. Richard Everett Londgren.

    • Jill | February 13, 2021 at 1:44 pm

      My folks put down $300 dollars and I made $57 payments for 3 years to buy my beloved 1970 light yellow VW Beetle.
      I bought black fur shag floor carpets and stick-on real wood panels for the front dashboard from JC Whitney catalog.
      A co-workers son made me a yellow resin knob for the floor shift.
      I loved it and kept it so clean and pristine. I was always washing it and my dear Uncle Ray told me ‘You keep that car cleaner than a gnat’s butt’.
      When I got married in 1973 my husband and I had 4 cars and a motorcycle so we sold my car to a classmate from high school. I never saw her at any of my class reunions but if I had I would have been interested in trying to buy it back.
      Thank you for this wonderful trip down memory lane….

    • Diane Neri | February 13, 2021 at 2:39 pm

      My first car was a brand new, baby blue Opel Kadet that my father bought me when I was a junior in college and about to start student teaching. I loved it at first sight. I drove it exactly once.
      My younger brother had just gotten his learners permit and my dad thought it would be a good idea to take the cute little car on a road trip to look at colleges AND let let him get some driving experience. Let’s just say only two of them made it home, a little sadder and wiser. My dad had spectacular black and blue marks that he loved sharing with everyone and my brother had to have knee surgery. The car went to the happy hunting ground and was reincarnated as a Chevrolet Chevelle, not as sexy but better in a collision.

    • Gene | February 13, 2021 at 3:34 pm

      I purchased my first car after I got out of the service in 1953. My first car was a 1952 two door Chevy sedan. It was a two tone grey, and when we bought it it had low mileage, but had repaired body damage, and the paint didn’t match. I had done body fender repair in the past, so I repainted the whole car. It looked and rode like a new car. We drove it for more than 10 years. I even overhauled the engine in one weekend. My wife and 4 kids loved the car. When we had two kids, they used to watch me learning to fly. I flew GA aircraft for 39 years. My wife thought she’d bury me in our airplane.

      • Extra Mile Staff | February 13, 2021 at 6:40 pm

        Thanks for your service!

    • Kevin Sheneman | February 13, 2021 at 9:55 pm

      I went on the sly to purchase my car. It was a 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner in pieces. Well, the motor was not installed. I had already paid cash for the car, and my dad was not having a car in pieces in front of the house. He arranged for a mechanic friend of his to take the car and put the engine in. He essentially went over ever system in the car and ensured that everything was in order. I was so stoked to have my hot rod car, and couldn’t wait to take it out. Although I didn’t really recognize it at the time, I was dumb as a box of rocks. I can’t even imagine that I would have really been able to install the engine properly myself. But, I had no fear of anything, and my parents knew that. The mechanic was a no nonsense but wise old codger and to prevent any impetuous action in such a powerful car, he tightened the timing bolt on the distributor just tight enough to operate at normal range. Of course, I did not care to run my car in normal range. I thought I had gotten a lemon of a car, as I could hardly run one day and keep the car running. It would be purring like a kitten when I got it back, but rarely got more than one outing per visit to the shop. My Dad laughed and laughed when many years later he told me the “secret” way that they maintained control over that “hot rod”…. I was really angry upon learning this, but in retrospect, I do think it was a rather cunning way to keep the car under control.

      • Extra Mile Staff | February 14, 2021 at 4:17 pm

        Wow! Great story. Thanks for sharing.

    • Braddon Braddon-Walker | February 13, 2021 at 11:03 pm

      My first car was a 1934 Ford Roadster. I paid $75.00 for the car and

      $125 for the insurance. It was a great car. I had it less than a year. Rolled it, it could not be fixed

    • Danielle Payne | February 14, 2021 at 1:16 pm

      My first car was a fiery red Pontiac Tempest, purchased in 1965. I loved that car! I remember driving down the Bronx River Parkway, and if you came too close on the right…I went ‘toot toot!’ or too close on the left…I went ‘toot toot!’ Two weeks after purchase, when visiting my grandmother in the hospital; a man busy watching a nurse walking by, backed-up into my brand new car!!! I was sick! Anyway, I survived since there was little damage!

    • Jerry White | February 14, 2021 at 7:15 pm

      My first car was a 1949 Plymouth 4 door sedan and it was beautiful. It was the car my dad owned in 1958 when he died suddenly of a heart attack. I was 13 years old and it very soon became MY car. I learned to drive it initially by backing up and then driving down the driveway at our home. I would have no idea how many of Mother’s prize hydrangeas I wiped out that were adjacent to the driveway while practicing backing up..

      Unlike most boys my age, I had no real mechanical skills and I really no interest in developing them . Suffice it to say, the Plymouth remained a six cylinder and standard transmission with “three on the column”. I did, however, without my Mother’s permission or knowledge have twin glass packs installed on the car. Man, that was one sweet sounding sound. That probably upset my dear Mother as much as anything I ever did. In addition to the twin glass packs, I installed a used radio and also purchased hubcaps that probably cost me a month salary of my summer job. I believe the hubcaps were referred to as “crabs” . Overall, it was a very good summer.

      There are several stories that go with anyone’s first car and I probably share those stories with a lot of people. I lived in a fairly small town and the”behind the wheel” portion of my driver ed training was taught by one of the school’s football coaches. I was an OK high school football player. The driver ed teacher/coach generously overlooked the fact that I drove my Plymouth to the drivers ed class. A story I would rather forget is the number of times I had to ‘pushed’ in my Plymouth to get it started. A lot of those times were at a drive in restaurant where every kid in town hung out on Friday and Saturday nights. One story I cannot share is that, needless to say, I never had any success or any desire to have successful drag racing stories related to my six cylinder 1949 Plymouth, 4 door sedan with “three on the column”.

    • Jamie Jones | February 15, 2021 at 3:43 pm

      My first car was 1960 Plymouth Valiant station wagon with push buttons on the dash for drive, reverse. I was able to spend my senior year of high school teaching at a junior high and my dad had to drive me to the junior high and then to my school every day. It didn’t take long for him to tire of being my chauffeur. One day he showed up with this car and informed me that we were going to DMV for me to get my license. He paid $150 and put new tires on it, but I had to spend a whole Saturday with a mechanic learning how to change the tire and various other things. At the end of my freshman year in college we moved and my dad made me sell the car and drive it to it’s new owner and I cried the entire way home.

    • Larry Litwiler | February 16, 2021 at 2:08 pm

      My First Car was a 1954 red ford convertible . I bought the car for $300.00 out of a yard. This was ford’s first year of over-head valves V-8. The car burned or leaked so much oil, that I had to buy OIL by in gallon cans to always have ready to add. I worked on the car in my Uncle’s gas station as much as I drove it. However; when I had the top down and came cruising into my high school parking lot, I felt like the MR COOL. Long time ago.

    • Mary E Sauter | February 23, 2021 at 6:17 pm

      My first car was a beige 1940 something Chevy sedan with an oil filter mounted (somewhat haphazardly) over the motor. I traded my dad a cow and a calf to get that car. I went through 4 teachers/friends and finally my BFF who couldn’t drive grabbed her rosary, got in the passenger seat and said “Let’s go!” My expertise with a standard transmission was non-existent. As a result whenever I let the clutch out, the car shuddered like an earthquake. The result: the filter was now off its mount and bumping around somewhere in the engine. On comes the brake, out I jump in my sling-back pumps, 3 petty coats and party dress and hunker over the hood until I can re-plant the oil filter. Cars are honking, BFF praying and no cops in sight, I successfully manage to replant the filter, climb in, shift gears and make a mad dash to escape the scene. Mind you, I had no license. After about five months my dad caught up with me and escorted me to the VMD where on the second attempt I passed the test. Moral of Story: Always have a fearless BFF with a Rosary!

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