My grandfather, Papaw Cupp, loved old cars. I can recall quite a few over the years. There were of course, the Model A and Model T Fords. I remember a purple Hudson Hornet, a red Packard that fascinated me, because even though it was old, it had power windows.
Then there was the old convertible Packard. It was red, a little rusty, and had a passible interior. His story about how he found it went something like this. He had noticed it sitting out in a farm field one day. Bought it, put a battery and gas in it and drove it home. Simple as that.
Even though he had a business to operate, he would come by and pick us up for a ride in that car. He’d drive through town, loaded to the hilt with grandkids, top down and the radio playing on some “old” music channel. He’d tell us that the radio would only play old songs.
Some of his cars he restored, others he preserved.
Perhaps thats where I caught the old car bug. I’ve owned a 1969 GTO convertible. I’m happy to say I was able to return the favor to my grandfather and take him for a spin in it before he passed away. That one I restored.
I now have a 1969 Toyota Land Cruiser I bought from the original owner. Although it was well cared for, it would never win a beauty contest. When I look at it, it screams “story” to me. Somehow all the bumps and bruises and imperfections feel honest. This one I’m preserving. I can’t bring myself to cover over its story with a new coat of paint. Not just yet anyway. There’s beauty in the journey, even a difficult journey.
We’re approaching July 4th, the celebration of our Nation’s Independence. Even though we go through difficult times, and we have the bumps and bruises and imperfections to prove it, I know you’ll agree that, what we have is worth preserving.