I remember my first car, an Austin-Healey Sprite. It wasn’t new. In fact, it was so used, it wasn’t even running. The car was stored in my grandparent’s barn. It had belonged to my uncle. He said I could have it if we towed it away and did all the repair. I imagined that he had raced it across emerald corn fields and yellow crops of wheat.
My grandparents and uncle lived in a rural area near East Berlin, Pennsylvania. When we moved from the South in 1966, we stayed with my grandparents for a time. I slept in a room with my sister. There was a door leading up to the attic and sometimes we heard bats scraping around the eaves up there.
The Sprite was tomato red, a 1962 or 1963, I can’t remember for sure, and had a black roll bar, 4-on-the-floor, was a soft-top convertible. That Summer and Fall would be one of the bonding moments between me and my step-dad. He worked his butt off repairing the engine, well, even getting that car to run was a miracle.
I didn’t do much of the hands-on. But looking back, I wish I had. My brothers were all good at fixing their cars, taking care of them, changing the wheels out, replacing spark plugs (do cars even have spark plugs anymore?), fixing the brakes. Even my mother had helped tear down and put back together an engine once in her twenties. It seemed like there was nothing my family could not do in taking car of their cars.
I learned by osmosis. I stood in the cool garage, watching my step-dad work on the engine, helping him out when he needed an extra set of hands, learning about metric tools. I thought it was my first year of college. But my sister remembers it as being my junior or senior year of high school. I must have been 17. Time becomes fuzzy. It’s good to document with photographs or write things down. I only have one or two photos of the Austin-Healey, and I haven’t been able to locate them. Yet. I wish I had taken more photos. It was once-in-a-lifetime kind of car.
I learned to drive a stick. I’ll never forget the day we took the Sprite out for its first spin. My step-dad was tall, over 6 feet. He hunkered down and slid into the driver’s seat. I am much shorter. I hopped into the passenger side, excited, a little scared. Off we went on the two-lane rural road down to the post office, flying about 80 mph. Did the thing even have seatbelts? I can’t remember. Just the roll bar.
I remember the convertible top was up that day; I think it had metal snaps. But what I remember most about the first time we took the Sprite out is my step-dad teaching me to slip the clutch. He told me racers used that technique to gain speed, and there we were, racing down a slow moving Pennsylvania road, rrrrrummmm, rrrrrrummm, rrrrummmm, every time he changed gears.
My mother got involved, too. She helped to fix up the interior of the car, added carpet where there was exposed glue and rough edges. By the time we were all done, it looked like a million bucks. I can’t say it ran like a dream. It had serious wear and tear from use and abuse by my uncle. But I was so proud to be driving that Austin-Healey. Me and Mary, my girlfriend at the time (she had purple suede boots, flaming red hair, and red tinted glasses to match), would show up at softball games with the top down, hop out with our cleats, gloves, and bat bags, and head over to the dugout. There is something about leaving a convertible parked with the top down. What is it?
I don’t know if I would do that today. There is an overall lack of respect for other people’s property that seems to permeate the greater public. I don’t know if I trust people the way I used to. We live in different times. But my mother wasn’t very trusting of the public back in the early 70’s when I was driving the Sprite either. I remember one thing about that car – the muffler kept falling down in unexpected places at uncommon hours. Once on Interstate 83, it happened again – the muffler fell to the road. Mary and I often would tie it up with a wire coat hanger. This time it wasn’t working.
We got out in the roaring traffic, stared under the car, looked at each other, and decided to hitchhike the 5 or 6 miles home. My mother was furious with us. How could we be so trusting, hitchhiking along a major freeway? Who knows who might have picked us up! Back then, we were coming off the tail end of the 1960’s. It was common for women and men to hitchhike wherever they needed to go. I cringe at the thought in the year 2008. I have to tell you, I’d never hitchhike anywhere today.
Mary and I took one long trip in the Austin-Healey, down to the Washington D.C. area to see a concert. We were going to see the Allman Brothers. It turned out, the Grateful Dead were also playing in that outdoor concert. We weren’t Dead Heads. But now I can say I saw the Grateful Dead play. And don’t tell my mother, but I remember we slept with a blanket on the ground in this open green field with a bunch of other concert goers that night, went to McDonalds for breakfast in the morning, and drove back home on backroads. Wanna-be hippie that I was (even though at the time, I was a jock and as straight-laced as they come), I had the time of my life. I felt like a rebel; a female James Dean.
I did love that car. Doesn’t everyone love their first car? But my parents made it special for me, a labor of love, a gift. I think I only drove it a year, maybe two. It was already almost 10 years old. And needed too much maintenance and upkeep for me to take it away to college. But the smell of the engine, the chrome, the sporty headlights, the way the knobs were simple flip switches on a carved wooden dashboard, the feel of hopping in under the roll bar, the way it felt to run down the road with long 70’s hair flying in the wind — I never felt so free.
-posted on red Ravine, Monday, October 20th, 2008
-related to Topic post: WRITING TOPIC — MEMORIES OF CARS
Post Script: I was excited to see if I could actually find a photo that looked similar to the Austin-Healey I owned. No exact matches. The closest I could find was this 1963 Austin Healey Sprite MK II (HAN7 37761). It’s a cool link because you can see the steps he went through to rebuild and refurbish the car. The Mark II’s were second generation; they made them from 1961 to 1964. You can also read more about Sprite history at Austin-Healey Sprite.
QM, J remembers this car well. He said he had it after you & that it wasn’t running again, but he got it back on the road. He also said he wishes he still had it. His favorite car was a silver Olds 442. What’s funny is that my boyfriend in high school also had a 442, although his was gold. Our dream would be to have one today as a project car.
I had to laugh when I read the words “And don’t tell my mother…”! You know of course that she will read this! But, she won’t care that you slept on a blanket in a field. She might have had she known at the time, but Mom is way too cool.
This was a great post! I really enjoyed reading it. Brings back so many good memories. Oh, and The Allman Brothers sure could rock, couldn’t they? D
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diddy, I’m so glad you commented on this. I was trying to remember what happened to the Sprite after I left. I’m so happy to know that J. drove it for a time. He was always good with cars. He could only have been about 13 when I first started driving that car! But I remember that he helped the farmers out nearby, baling hay to make extra spending money. So I bet he learned to drive way earlier than me!
I remember J.’s silver Olds 442. Is that a Cutlass? Or no? My coach in high school got a brand new orange convertible Cutlass with a white top the year I graduated. I tell you, she thought she was really stylin’! So the Olds 442, I remember driving in it a couple of times with J. I bet he has a lot of memories of driving around on Pennsylvania backroads.
Back then, we didn’t go to the malls — we drove around on country roads, stopping once in a while to pick someone up. Since we lived rurally, we always had to travel a ways to get anywhere. Lots of memories!
Yeah, I know Mom’s going to read this. Doesn’t that just make you laugh? And I’m positive she already knows. Ask J. — there’s not much that got past Mom.
You know, I used to love the Allman Brothers. Remember Eat A Peach? Did you see Saturday Night Live last Saturday? Along with Tina Fey and Sarah Palin, a (pseudo) Gregg Allman made an appearance in a skit. Did you catch that?
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Oh, diddy, what was the first car you owned? I can’t remember if you said or not in the Topic comments. I think you mentioned your dad’s Mercury though.
Another thing I was just thinking about — I guess the Austin-Healey Sprite became J.’s first car, too. We really got a lot of mileage out of that car! It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to keep it running. But it gave a lot of pleasure, too.
I wonder what R3 and gritsinpa drove for their first cars? Did grits have a Pinto? Or Gremlin or something?
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QM, my first car was my Grandfathers Chevy Impala 4 door. It was their goin’ to church only car. I don’t remember what year it was, but I do know it was in mint condition. My first car purchace was a 1975 Honda Civic. That car holds a lot of memories for me. I recall that I had to drive 50 miles away to have it serviced as most mechanics did not have metric tools. Once, I parked it in town to go with a friend who had a Mustang Cobra. When I returned for the Honda I found it missing. I located it in a used used car lot nearby! A practical joke by other friends who picked it up & carried it there! Oh & right before I bought the Honda I had put money down on a Ford Pinto. Turns out I made a better choice! And Gremlims! I never could warm up to them, though I had a friend who had a Purple one which was rather cool! I’m interested to hear what R3 & gritsinpa have to say about their first cars. Cool that you remember the 442 & although the body was much the same as a Cutlass, they were worlds apart.
And I fell asleep during Saturday Night Live & missed Greg Allman. Bummer…& I’m certain nothing got past Mom. She’s so intuitive! D
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Great first car QM! To this very day… I still call an older two seater convertible a “Pugga”. I had a neighbor who drove a forest green beauty and wore one of those fancy little plaid touring caps (I call those Peon Leon caps). I can still hear that car engine as it made it’s way down the road…PPPUUUUGGGGAAAA
My dream car is a BMW Z8 …oooohhhh 😉
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heather, I love that — PPPUUUUGGGGAAAA. It is amazing how each engine makes a certain sound unique to that engine. I don’t know a lot about engine sizes, power, all that jazz. But I intuitively know when something’s wrong with my car by the way the engine hums or doesn’t! I know my mother is like that, too. BMW Z8 –I’ll have to check them out. I’d kind of like to get a Mini-Cooper.
diddy, ah, the Honda Civic. Very popular car back then. I used to want a Honda, too. But by the time I got around to looking at them in the mid-90’s, they didn’t seem made as well to me. I did test drive Honda’s when I bought my Camry. Once I found the manual 5-speed stick Camry, I was sold on that one.
I remember when it was hard to find mechanics with metric tools. Boy, times have changed. And about disappearing cars — the strangest thing that happened to me was when one morning I came out to go to work and my car wasn’t where I parked it. It’s the strangest feeling. I walked around the neighborhood going, “Now, I’m SURE I parked my car over there. Where is it!”
Turns out my car had been stolen. Some kids had ransacked it and taken it for a joyride. The police found it 3 days later parked in a residential neighborhood. Not a fun experience!
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QM, what a cool car that must have been. Yes, a true collectible. What eventually came of it?
I really enjoyed reading about Mary. You and she seemed like a perfect fit for such an original car. 8)
Also, diddy, speaking of Honda Civics, remember how cheap they were? I remember ads for them and they were no more than $3,000. Wow.
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Yes, they were super cheap & now I remember that it was a 1973, not 1975. The same friends that had carried it onto the used car lot also lifted it onto a sidewalk while I was inside in a local bar having a few drinks. Yikes! I’m glad the police didn’t notice! I had put over 200,000 miles on it before I gave it to my youngest brother. D
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ybonesy, I don’t know what became of the Austin-Healey. I’ll have to ask J. what happened after he had it. I didn’t even remember that he had driven it after me. I don’t know how I missed that since I came home the first summer of college. I do remember his silver Olds 442. I wonder if he’s got any photographs of either the Sprite or the Olds?
He says he wishes he had kept it. I do, too! But I really don’t know how to work on cars or motorcycles in a way that I can keep up something that needs a lot of maintenance. I wish I was mechanical like that. I’ve very detailed. But not mechanical!
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Oh, I forgot to mention — about Mary. She was quite a character. Irish Catholic with flaming red hair, a wild one. My family all really liked her. We also bought that Ford Econoline van together before going off to college. We worked at a gas station in Harrisburg that summer and bought it from the owner. That was another kind of trippy car.
Mary lives in Montana now. Well, last time I saw her she did. She owns land there but has also lived in Portland and Seattle. I haven’t seen her in quite a few years. But hopefully, when I head out to see the mountains again, I’ll look her up. It’s always so enlightening to see people we knew in high school. Since I don’t live close to where I went to school, it’s not very often I run into them.
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diddy, it sounds like you were a wild one, too! Or at least, you ran with a wild crowd. How much longer did the Honda run after you gave it to your youngest brother? Isn’t it amazing how many miles some cars will go?
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My brother drove the car for 2 years after I did. He & his wife have owned 2 Hondas since then. They currently own a 2007 Accord & the newer ones are so much roomier than mine.
Regular maintenance is key to owning a car with high mileage. My Honda currently has 144,000 miles on it.
Yes, I was a bit on the wild side, but my friends were wilder than me.:)
I asked J if he had any photos of the Sprite or 442, but he doesn’t think so. I know he does have a photo of a Javelin he once owned. If only we still had one of those vehicles! D
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diddy, yeah, it would be fun to still have one of those vintage vehicles around. The Javelin — that was kind of like a Mustang or Camaro in style, right? I vaguely remember. What color was his Javelin?
Hey, does J. remember what happened to the Sprite. Did it just die and he towed it away? Or did someone else buy it and refurbish it?
It takes so much money and work to restore older cars to the original way they looked and ran. But I love going to the vintage car shows. Every summer you can see tons of vintage cars hanging around Porky’s between Minneapolis and St. Paul.
I’ll have to look at the miles on my Camry. It’s up there pretty high. Not sure I’d take that car cross-country anymore. But it’s great for toodling around town.
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http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:AMC_Javelin
I found a link for the Javelin. They were pretty sporty looking. I think his was a burgundy color, but he’ll have to verify that along with the year. I’ll ask him what happened to the Sprite. Perhaps Mom or T have photos of the Sprite & 442? D
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Thanks, diddy. I was the family photographer after we moved to PA. And I think I’ve seen most of the photos that Mom has. Not sure what T. has though. I’ll have to do further research. I’m mostly just curious. A photograph truly is worth 1000 words. Some cliches (perhaps many) seem to be based on a pinch of truth.
I remember when the Hondas went from small and sporty to more sedan and family-like. The same thing happened to the Toyotas. It’s fascinating to watch the evolution of car shapes, bodies, and colors. If you think about the SUV’s, too, they are not much more efficient than the cars Granddaddy and Uncle Jack were driving in the Memories of Cars Topic post. Everything has a life span — then comes back around again. 8)
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QM, ok, here is the scoop on the Sprite. J sold it to someone who lived down the road from Moms house.
Yes the Civic came a long way since 1973. I bought that car because it offered over 40 mpg & we had the gas crisis in the 70’s when we could only fuel up on certain days. I remember one time when it was my day for a trip to the gas station. The man who filled it up came to my window & said “That’ll be 50 cents”! D
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