When I was young, my father purchased a 1927 Model T Ford from my Grandfather Sams. I remember the car being in my Grandfather's barn for years before that. This car sat in the garage. It has never had interior seats or carpets within my memory. I remember when I was young, Dad or Mark would crank the handle in front of the grill to get the Model T running. Then we would ride around the yards and roads sitting on plywood or open springs on top of the gas tank or in the back seat. Our Model T didn't have a roof. There were just wooden timbers, sometimes covered by chicken wire on the top. The car has almost always been black. But on one occasion, my dad painted it maroon. On another, he painted it green. The Model T has always had black trim and running boards.
Dad is a great story teller. When we were little, he would tell us stories while we were on trips or while we were in bed. I remember him telling a story about a man with a Model T. He would drive it, and kids would run along the road and jump into the Model T as it went past. So many kids would jump on until they were hanging out the windows and were clinging onto the outside filling up the running boards. The were yelling at the driver, "Go faster, Go faster!" They all laughed and had a great time. My Dad would laugh as he told the story. We did, too.
My dad has bought and sold many, many vintage cars. My whole life I've known cars and restoration inside out from my father's constant hobby. Dad always restores these classics. Then (often to my disappointment), he sells them. He says that he enjoyed each, but that he really can't afford to keep the cars. The Model T is the only car that he has kept, and he has kept it for years and years. This is the one car that has always been here. But, until recently, he never restored it. Isn't that funny? That one, precious piece of all of my family's past has remained essentially unchanged and unrestored for more than 40 years. Dad has always planned to restore it. He just never did.
Dad is 68 years old now. Two months ago, he decided it was time and began to restore the Model T. That is a big event. He and my brother Mark have spent countless hours working on the car. It had stopped running. They have rebuilt the engine, ordered countless new parts, and have even restored the interior. So, now we sit on pin striped seats and the floors are carpeted. It has a roof. The car is nearly finished now. It looks as good as it did when it was new.
Dad never expected to sell the Model T. I expect that someday, Mark will inherit it. It was comfortable knowing it was always there. It was easy to take it for granted. There was always time tomorrow to take care of this thing that we all found precious; this thing that helps mark continuity in our family.
The Model T was never neglected, but the things that we wanted for it were never done. How easy it is to do that.
I'm glad that the Model T has finally been restored.
Oh, and by the way, today we drove it and myself, Julia, Mark, his wife Gail, Stephen, his wife Lisa, Stephen's 4 children, and my 3 children loaded up into the Model T and drove it through the fields at my father's farm and along the roads and there were so many kids in it that they were hanging out the windows and clinging to the running boards.
Be Blessed.
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