My Buick came home yesterday, but not to stay. Someone else was able to do what I never could; return my Buick to the beauty it deserved to be. I loved it, but my resources were limited so the love I had for the car never showed in it's care or preservation.
I was 17 years old on a bright spring day back in 1978. For some reason I had walked to school that day and when I got home I noticed my 1964 Pontiac was not in the driveway. In its place was a 1966 Buick Skylark Gran Sport. I was told it had belonged to Gladys Breed. Mrs. Breed was a retired school teacher who had actually been Mom's 7th grade teacher. The car had been special ordered from the factory and was just like new. In fact, the back seat had never been sat in.
At first I was a little bit sad that Dad had sold my car (with my new 8-track tape deck) without telling me. But then I drove the Buick.
I didn't need the tape deck, as I had a perfectly fine AM/FM radio in my car and the 445 Wildcat under the hood. I was a happy and lucky girl!
I drove the car the short trip back and forth to school for the remainder of the year. The following fall I moved to Spokane to attend Spokane Falls Community College. I lived right on Spokane Falls Boulevard, so my Buick still didn't have much of a commute to get me to and from school.
Going home to Wilbur on the weekends was the furthest I ever drove my car. I loved knowing that I could pass another car on the highway and never worry if I had time to get around it. I had a fast car.
The next year I got married and the Buick and I moved to Kennewick. I still drove it daily until the spring of 1980 when I was hit head on by a young man who had just bought his car that day. I was pregnant with my first child and a bit shaken up, but my car kept me safe. In fact, it didn't even move. I was able to drive it so we took it to Wilbur to show my dad. The car looked fine, other than the driver's side bumper being smashed. Even so, I was told it was a total loss, but dad still got it fixed for me.
Once I had it back in Kennewick I'm not sure what happened. I had another child in 1983 and the Buick started needing more work than we could afford. It sat a lot.
At some point in the 80s I took the Buick to Wilbur and parked it in my parent's garage. I think it was after 1986 because that is when my dad passed away and I know dad would have worked on the Buick if he'd still been alive.
In 1996 my mom had to sell the old house so I got a flat bed trailer and hauled the Buick back to Kennewick. Anna was getting her driver's license so I was determined to fix the Buick up for her to drive. I was divorced by this time and didn't have ready cash for car repairs. I took a loan from my 401k and had Charlie's Automotive get the car running. I can't remember what all they did, but I know they replaced the starter and a few other things. I think I spent about $1000. Anna drove the Buick all through her high school years, but we had to get her something more dependable and economical when she went to college in Bellingham.
By this time, Noah had his license, but decided he wanted a cowboy limousine that was for sale in Wilbur instead, so the Buick sat for a few more years.
In 2002 Noah joined the Marine Corps and in 2003 he went for his first tour to Iraq. Noah gave me his power of attorney and asked me to use his combat pay to fix up the Buick. He wanted it all finished when he got out of the Corps so it could be his car. His phone calls home were filled with questions about the progress on the car. Getting the Buick fixed was a good project for a worried mom and thinking about it was a good distraction for a young man in a war zone.
We got the engine rebuilt in Pasco, and they did a wonderful job. The transmission was re-built at Astley's in Kennewick, who kindly gave a discount for a Marine at war. When the engine was ready, Noah's friend Jeremy took charge of putting it back into the car. Darrell soda blasted it and then we had the body worked on and primed. I don't remember where we took it for the body work, but now I've heard it wasn't the best work. We were well on our way to finally fixing the Buick all up when Noah finished his second tour. He got married and bought a car in San Diego while he was working at the base in Camp Pendleton. Once the combat pay stopped, so did the work on the Buick. Sadly, I don't think Noah ever got to really drive it after sinking over $5000 into it.
I would often go out to my driveway and sit in it, wishing I could finish the work and give Noah back his investment so I could drive it again. I know the car means almost as much to him as it does to me.
After several years Noah needed the money so he sold the car to Jeremy, who had wanted it for some time. I wanted to buy it from Noah then, but I had been laid off from my job and money was tight. I always hoped that I could buy it back someday, but eventually Jeremy sold it and I didn't hear about it until it was too late. It wasn't meant to be and I don't think it would have turned out so great if I'd been the one trying to get it done.
A couple weeks ago pictures of the Buick were sent to me and I cried. It was beautiful, and for that I was happy, but I was so sad that it wasn't me who had done it. I know it's silly to cry over a car and I should be happy for my memories and the joy I had when Dad gave me the Buick, but I can't stop feeling that it belongs with me.
The man who fixed it up so beautifully is Dennis Sandmeier. He was kind enough yesterday to drive the Buick over here so I could see it "in person" and he even let me drive it! What memories washed over me as I drove around the block, what a bittersweet experience. As I pulled back into my driveway in the Buick, Darrell said "honey, you look good in there." My reply was, "Well I should, it's my car." I'm so glad the Buick is fixed up, and I so selfishly wish it belonged to me. I wish I was in a position right now to buy it, but there are other things more important for our golden years - like a new home and retirement funds. I know my dad wouldn't want me feeling so bad about the car and oh gosh, he would be so happy to see it all shiny and pretty again. I can just see the grin on his face - the one he got whenever he saw a great car. When Dennis said he would drive the car over for me to see, he said he hoped I would approve of the restoration he'd done.
Dad and I approve.
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