My brother Jim and I were talking about cars this morning. Brought back this memory. You would have to have known my dad to really appreciate this, but there was nothing he was more possessive of than the family car. Nothing. My brothers both tell similar stories. After getting my driver’s license asking dad for the car was like asking him for a couple pints of blood. He HATED to give you the keys to the car.

“Brother, if you wreck it, just don’t come home!”, he’d say as he literally threw the keys at me.

I was 16 and me and a friend were going hunting. I drove. I picked Ray up while it was still dark in dad’s Ford Galaxie. We hadn’t gone very far when a woman, on her way to work, ran a stop sign and hit the rear quarter of the car, spinning us around in the intersection.

I was afraid of my dad, and obviously conveyed that fear to the woman. She followed me home to the house. God Bless her, she explained to my folks that the accident was “all her fault,” and that she had run the stop sign. There was nothing dad could say, but “I’m glad you’re both alright.”

Every time I think of that day and that woman who came to the house to explain to my dad what happened in the accident, I’m amazed at her kindness. There are probably places in this country where that might still happen—maybe still in Nebraska, but not many.

My Dad was also very possessive of his car. My older brother had blown up a couple of engines in his car, so when I got my license he told me I wouldn't be allowed to use his car, but my brother still would because he was such a good son.

So, I bought my own car for $100.00 and put it in showroom condition. Then when an idiot 17 year old girl ran a stop sign in front of 20+ witnesses and I t-boned her grandfather's car, I got enough insurance money to buy a new car, newer than my Dad's.

Success is the best revenge.

My dad was also crazy nuts about his cars, still is to this day. My mother was hit driving my older sibling and a few neighbors home after they were dismissed due to snow. My dad’s response was “how’s the car?”, not is everyone ok or simply caring about anything other than his car. My older sister had a car that was damaged by someone in a parking lot when we were both in college. Her car was going into the shop and my dad was working out of town every week. So he told me to take his car and made my sister drive mine the first week, because I was more careful with my car. The second week my sister pitched a huge fit that she wanted the nicer car, so I took my car back with me for the week and my sister wrecked my dad’s car. He didn’t speak to her for more than two weeks. I’m glad I never wrecked in my dad's car!

I’m sure you’re right that these days many people would not be as kind as the woman who went home with you. Most people nowadays lack the ability to take responsibility for their actions.

My father let me use his car whenever I wanted. A classmate in high school borrowed his dad's car and wrecked it. He thought his dad loved that car more than him so he killed himself. I never let my kids think that I love material things to that extreme.

^^^Holy Shit, that's awful...

^^^ no words

There was no reason for me or my brothers to ask dad to use his car......the answer was no!! We each had to buy....and insure our own cars. I think that dad made a wise decision concerning his car. We were all three teenage boys and hard on our cars.

My dad NEVER lent his car out. I did manage to snag his approved 'work rig' which was a 49 Ford (hey, it was only 12 year old at the time) 4 door sedan for driving 10 miles to high school.
Of course a buddy needed a ride.
Then his girl friend, to a different school.
And her sister.
More than once.
Then it snowed.
Then the front end got crunched in a slow speed slick-street prat fall of a fender bender event.

Yes he was upset but said if I bought the repair parts he'd show how to put them on. The parts were $80 which nearly doubled the cost of the car in the first place.

Not long after while pulling into a burger joint an old guy actually backed into the passenger door from the side. It really was 'my' right of way said the cop.

I still have the original jack from that Ford. It's come in handy over the years for various home chores.

So my dad would loan me his truck. He was pretty strict about it because without his truck, there was no more income for our family. He still let me borrow it whenever I needed and, knew I was usually up to stupid shit.

Then I got the Buick Skylark.