Papa

After reading Brians blog again, and looking at my header with the olds, it brings back memories of Grandmas passing and also memories of dad. So many memories of dad and grandma are connected, obviously. After grandma came to stay with mom and dad, dad suggested to grandma that he bring her olds up for me to drive, since having a car would be very helpful for me at that time. Dad had it inspected and registered and I started using it, mostly to get back and forth from work, only about 10-15 miles a day. When dad brought it up, it had less than 60,000 miles on it I think. The olds was just a couple of years younger than I was, about 23 or 24 years. I loved being able to drive it around. After a few months, grandma had become weaker, and it appeared as though she wouldn't be well enough to drive, so dad got her permission to have the title to the olds transferred to me. I took the olds to have it inspected again, and it failed the emissions test. Dad and I replaced the plugs and air filter, and after that it ran even worse, and failed again. So we put the old plugs back in and tried a third time, this time it passed. Then on a Friday I took Jackson to mom and dads to go with dad to transfer the title of the olds to me. Dad was busy with other things, as was normal, so I spent time sitting next to grandma, holding her hand as she slept. She would wake up at times, and look over and smile, I would talk to her a little, then she would go back to sleep. I spent most of the day there talking to mom and grandma. On Saturday, Jess and I went to Salt Lake, but we stopped by mom and dads in the morning and I popped in to see grandma. She was awake and so I spoke to her for a little bit. That afternoon as we were coming home, after a really nice warm day in Salt Lake, we noticed some dark clouds just past point of the mountain, then there was one flash of lightning, after which Jess wondered aloud how grandma was. I had just thought the same thing. Mom called us later when we were back home and told us that grandma had passed away. When she told us at what time it had happened, it was the exact time at which I saw the lightning and thought of grandma on the way home.

Over the next few years I was grateful to be able to be driving grandma's car, as it brought so many memories along with it. Also, dad and I spent a lot of time together on the phone or in the driveway or a parking lot trying to diagnose issues it was having. Even dads friend Rick Smith got involved with some repairs. One Saturday, I was over at mom and dads in the olds, and dad was pulling the fiero out. He drove it down the street, stopped in front of Rick Smiths to chat, then came back on foot, because the Fiero had died, and needed a jump, and I guess none of the cars in Ricks yard were able to be used to do it, so we took the olds down and jumped the fiero.

The furthest the olds was ever driven by me, was when we moved to Logan. In Logan it did pretty well, there were a couple of times that it wouldn't get going in the morning, but it worked well for me. When we moved from Logan, I sold the olds to a couple of guys I worked with, who had been eyeing it down ever since they started. They had plans to really change it up, paint, new wheels, tinting. Last I heard though their dad was driving it back and forth to work, and nothing had been changed, yet.

It was fun to spend time with dad working on the olds, I wish that growing up I had been more interested and attentive when dad would work on the cars and ask us to help. A couple of years ago, dad and I went up to Logan to the Cache Valley Cruise In. That was a great day. It was lots of fun spend time with him, doing what he really enjoyed, and what I was beginning to appreciate and enjoy more and more as I got older. Each year the cruise in gives away a nice classic car, that year it was a 30's Ford Truck. We stuck around in the grandstands as each name was called out until someone finally claimed it. Dad was pretty tired at the end of the day, it was quite hot, and at that time his feet were giving him problems. We took several breaks in the shade, but I am very happy that we were able to go that year and spend the day together. Other years we talked about going, but as it turned out dad was in the hospital during the weekend of the cruise in, so it was just that once.

Dad's love of cars and his knowledge of them was amazing. One day in Price, we were at Art's shop. Art had a poster of old cars, I think they were Fords, the model year was printed next to the cars in small type, but dad was running his finger along the front grille of the cars and then he would say, that's a '37, or '42, and he was right on.

I remember one summer in Price, we went out to some stock car races on the dirt track out there, that was lots of fun. I think that it was the same summer that we went up to the Rocky Mountain Raceway, if that is what is was called at the time, to see Indy Cars in action. There were other races that day also with stock cars, but dad took us because of the Indy Cars. There were only six Indy's, but boy were they awesome!!! I can't even imagine what 33 of them would be like.

Memorial Day weekends are quite memorable, spending time in Price with Grandma, watching the Indianapolis 500, always wanting the yellow pennzoil car driven by Rick Mears, to win, but it was more often than not a red and white Marlboro or Bud car that would take the checkered flag it seemed. The Andrettis, the Unsers, Fitipaldi. As a kid I mostly watched waiting for disaster, probably due to the many times we watched that Car Wars video, with all the spectacular crashes. In a British accent, "Now for the flying Dutch Woman. A sucessful jump, then a crash...well what would you expect from a woman driver." "A new game of skittles." I don't remember dad reacting with as much enthusiasm to all the carnage as I did, but he must have been entertained.

Well, this random post is just about done. Maybe I will do a part two.