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From:
Andrea Dailey
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Thursday, December 3, 2015
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Dad was always tinkering with old cars when I was a young child. We went to so many car shows, and Dad always knew the guys with the coolest old cars. We had an old farm house with several outbuildings, and for a period of time one of those structures contained two old cars and formula one race car. Dad even restored an old Packard that is now in the Smithsonian Museum of American History.
One of my favorite memories was when I was about eleven years old. Dad had been asked to be the sweeper car for a progressive dinner being held by a car club. The sweeper car was responsible for tailing behind, and if anyone broke down, it was Dad's job to get them going again. I wore a linen pantsuit and a straw hat, and I remember driving to several elegant homes in an old car. The only car that broke the entire time was the one Dad was driving!
I also have an even earlier memory of driving along in our family doctor's antique Rolls Royce. Dad and the Doc were in the front seat, and I was in the rear, crouched down under the fold-out tray behind the driver's seat. I was learning to count past 100, and I remember asking my father what came after 100, and I was shocked to learn that 101 came next. I had been convinced that 200 came next. That was the day I counted to 1000 as I rode along in that beautiful old car.
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From:
Eric Blachly
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Monday, November 30, 2015
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As a kid, I remember going to piano lessons near my Dad's auto shop. These lessons were usually on a Saturday morning, and after I got back from my lesson, there was a period of several hours before Dad closed the shop for the day. There was a loft area above the shop where my Dad stored all sorts of spare parts - some used, some new. My siblings and I loved to take all these spare parts off their shelves and build a "car" on the floor. Most of the time we had no idea what the parts were for, but we laid them out where we thought they belonged. Sometimes we only had three hubcaps (wheels); sometimes we could only find one tail light; occasionally we lucked out and found a matching pair of headlights or a speedometer unit, but we always seemed to have a steering wheel to drive with. I think Dad kept that steering wheel around just so we could build our cars each Saturday morning.
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