Auto Crush

My dad once joked that he had four kids, three of the human kind, and one right out of Motor City. His unofficial favorite was a Colonial White 1959 Ford Thunderbird. The car has an interesting place in our family, being purchased in 1961 for around $2500, when such a car was considered extravagant. Mom and Dad had two kids, 10 & 11 at the time, and were just working to make ends meet. How this car came into our family or how they afforded it I don't know, but once it was here it was treated with care and respect, partly because of the monetary value but more so because of the love and admiration that my dad had for it. The T-Bird always had a spot in the garage, no matter what. You did not touch the T-Bird, no matter what, especially the windows - no fingerprints on the windows! The car sat in show quality state all the time, but rarely did it go out on the road. I had heard a story of my brother taking the car out and getting into an accident. Dad's version was much more dramatic, but it was probably a fender scrape. Naturally my sister got her chance to drive it and yes, another accident. When I asked to drive the car in my high school homecoming parade, Dad mulled it over for days. He was probably researching the costs of repairs on a car that by that time was 25 years old. I did get the chance to drive it, and was terrified that something would happen to it the entire time, and when I pulled into the driveway he was out the front door and eyeballing the car for damage. To my credit (and probably a guardian angel) the car came back in the same shape it went out in. A collective family sigh of relief.

Rose & Art with the T-Bird

 The T-Bird got out a few times each summer for parades and club events, put on for show at the local mall on occasion. Dad enjoyed the comments and admiration from strangers who appreciated what it took to own and keep such a beauty. I'm sure he felt the same was about us kids, but we were never on display like that.

After dad died it was hard to decide what to do with the car. I had no place to keep it, and there was no way I was going to just park it in my driveway. As is our family way, I mulled it over for many months (like about 26) and finally sold it at auction. It went to a new member of the Rocky Mountain Thunderbird Club where my dad had been a founding member. The couple who bought it was thrilled with the prospect of restoring such a treasured find. Dad would be thrilled too.