I asked the salesman if it was really so, because my father wanted a four-speed V8 Ford. One April day I was sitting at a salesman’s empty desk, reading brochures, when I came across a one-page notice from Ford to the dealer announcing the limited availability of the T-10 four-speed.

In those days I practically lived at the car dealerships on Saturdays. “Vy don’t American cars come wizz a four-speed stick shift?” But Pop, they do! You can get a four-speed 1961 Chevy! “A Chevrolet? Nein! Out of the question I vant a four-speed Ford V8!” That seemed especially true in spring 1961, when it finally came time to look for a new car. Henry’s legacy was long-lasting, especially overseas.īut having been trained on a four-speed stick while in Austria–and priding himself on having mastered it (in his mind)–he never was happy with the Fordomatic. Well into the ’70s, European, and especially Asian immigrants still strongly preferred Fords for that reason. As it was for so many other immigrants,”Ford” and “V8” were synonymous with the best of what America had to offer. After we had arrived in Iowa City from Austria in 1960, he bought an elderly 1954 Ford Mainline V8 sedan equipped with the Fordomatic transmission. In Austria, my father had taken the very comprehensive mandatory preparation course for a driver’s license but never actually got his license or bought a car there. Of course, I played a little role in that too… Which (sort of) explains how he came to own a limited-production, 375 hp, high-performance 390 cubic inch 1961 Starliner with a four-speed transmission. He had very strong opinions, even when they flew in the face of common sense. But that didn’t keep him from putting premium gasoline in his slant-six Dodge Dart or being unable to figure out how to open the hood, much less how to check the oil. He could explain the thermodynamic processes of an internal combustion engine with detailed formulas, and rattle off the chemical composition of gasoline. He was a farrago of contradictions, particularly when it came to cars. Now you might be willing to argue that point, but those who knew my father likely wouldn’t. Some of you might have missed my father’s one brief period of ownership with a truly awesome car) Fathers can be hard to figure out sometimes, and none more so than mine.

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