Folks Of Interest Dads that made us who we are

My 2 brothers and I were blessed with who I feel was the finest man ever. Strict but loving and definitely molded who we all 3 are today. Yes, we got the rod bug from dad. My brothers and I all have rods and try to get together every year to attend at least one event, even though we all live a distance from each other.

A pic of mom & dad when they were dating in the late 50’s. Oh what I would give to have that Sierra Gold/Adobe Beige Belair today!

 

My dad was not a car guy. My Pa was. So it skipped a generation. My dad did instill a strong work ethic in me that I’m grateful for. He passed in 2004. There are times,even now that I would like to ask him what do I do now? Thanks for this thread. Snowman ⛄️

 

I got this way all on my own with only myself to blame.

 

Yup

 

I miss mine, he taught me values, integrity and mechanical things.
I grew up in a home that had Hot Rod and Road & Track, motorcycles and cool cars.
I took the training wheels off my bike 2 days after I got it at age 5. Got my first motorcycle at 9.
He restored an Alpine while I was a teen, and had his 40 Ford until he couldn't drive. I have his diecast in my best display case, and his tools in my garage.
I won the lottery, and I know it. Got a lump in my throat right now...
https://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/media/albums/dads-ride.135/

 

My Dad and I built cars for years and in the last five years before he passed, he moved in with my wife and me and he was already in his 80's but we turned out some nice builds in those years. After he passed, he wanted to be cremated and I wasn't ready to let him go yet so I put an old 32 Ford running board up as a shelf in our workshop and I put the box with his ashes and several pictures and a couple awards and a few of his favorite tools.

 

I am not really older than you (only a couple years) but would be willing to bet you have a lot more wisdom and knowledge than you give yourself credit. I bet if we asked Little Truckdoctor what he thought, he would confirm that. Well, unless he is a teenager like my kids that think I am the dumbest person alive compared to how smart they are.

 

When I was maybe 6 years old my dad had a 1951 F1 pickup. He was rebuilding the carburetor and dropped a nut down the intake manifold. He had to pull the manifold off to retrieve the nut, and I watched the whole process. In retrospect that was nothing too difficult at all, but to me it seemed like it was rocket surgery back then. Here's dad with his first place beard at my hometown's 100th anniversary beard contest in 1984.



It wasn't but a year later that my grandfather came home from a farm auction where he bought me an old Maytag single cylinder engine. He watched over me and gave me instruction on how to take it apart, helping where he needed to but mostly letting me try to do as much as I could. After cleaning it all up and putting it back together, it started after just a few kicks of the foot pedal. I still have that old Maytag out in my shop, and after having 63 years pass since grandpa brought it home, it still runs like a top. Here's grandpa with his first place beard at my hometown's 75th anniversary beard contest in 1959.



I have laid my hands on a lot of machinery, cars, trucks, motorcycles, tractors, etc. since those early days, and have to give dad and grandpa credit for piquing my interest in all things mechanical. And just to continue the tradition of having award winning beards, here's me with my first place beard at my hometown's 125th anniversary beard contest in 2009.



Grandpa is long gone. He died 10 days after the 9-11 attacks, and wondered if our country would end up in a third world war. One of the things I remember about him is that every morning at the breakfast table he prayed for wisdom for our government leaders.

Dad will turn 92 years old this November. His mind is sharp, but his body is failing. I am 450 miles away from him and mom, but make that drive every few weeks just to spend a day or two with them.

I am fortunate to have had these two guys in my life. I try to emulate for my son what they were/are to me.

 

My Dad left when I was 3 weeks old. Nothing to be bitter about, as we had a very supportive Mother, who loved cars of the modified variety, Rod or Custom. My three older brothers were all gearheads, and as a group there wasn't much we didn't tackle. I was also lucky to have some friends, with fathers that loaned me all kinds of tools, equipment, and guidance, that I am thankful for.

 

Your sons turn in 2034............

 

my dad taught me to roll up my sleeves and get buzzy. aIf you didn;t have the parrts get rhen. if woudidnt have the tools, buy them, snfafter you fixed it reengineer it to better next time,

 

Since your playing post police, please show me anywhere either in the title or the op's original post does it state "good" dads only?

It actually states " dad's that made us who we are". Good, bad or indifferent every dad has had an influence on "who we are".....

....

 

My dad encouraged my interest as a young boy, but we drifted apart when I was a teen. He knew what I did but only last year did he realize what I did, and what I could do. He gave me nudge as a child for sure, but I got here on my own. I envy those of you who had more in your lives.

 

I'll be 75 in a couple weeks and I STILL don't have my Dad's wisdom, and he passed at age 63!

 

My Dad was big fan of Will Rogers, and his favorite quote was (I think this was Dad's way of hinting to me): Will Rogers said he left home when he was 18 because his dad was so dumb. He went back to visit when he was 21 and was amazed at how much his dad had learned in 3 years!

 

I owe everything I have and everything I am to this man. He taught me a trade, how to use and respect tools, whatever I do be proud of it, and most importantly how to be a man.
In this photo he is 81 years old and had just done 15 laps in the Kurtis midget he built in 1947. He's been gone 23 years now and I miss him every day.

 

...I appreciate your candid and honest response and can relate.

 

Youre ahead of the game ,the fact that you're concerned is doing more than many do !

 

Thank you Jeff, your post means the world to me.

 

Hello,

For me, our dad was not a hot rod person or a car person other than he loved driving around. No long hours out in the garage, working on cars or projects. The only time he had a moment with the garage is when he promptly went out to start his Buick at 5:30 am, came back inside to get his last drink of coffee and off he went to work in Los Angeles. He hated traffic and that meant no traffic at that hour. So, what did he do when he got to Los Angeles that early? He spent the next hour or so talking to his friend that owned a diner and had a nice breakfast. No fuss, no mess and always on time for work.

But, how does that history play into our early hot rod, drag race and motorcycle racing history? The whole idea of his guidance in selecting his friends, good friends last a long time… His penchant for sticking to an idea he got from another friend about a new car every 4 years, was an eye opener. By saving after he bought a new car, to start the next purchase, it starts small, but builds up fast A goal that he set for himself and kept at it, not impeding our family routines along the way.

Sure, we took plenty of road trips and we saw lots of things growing up from far away distances and different areas including Mexico. He like being outdoors and love being active in sports when he could.

Jnaki

But, the things he taught us were not directly forced or in a teaching moment. It was implied after a few pointers. How to grab a bat for the best swing, stance for defense in basketball, and both hands in catching a football on the run. He was not a sports star, but did play semi pro baseball after college. He was a family man and we all were his central emphasis.

It was the idea of being a nice person, with an open mind to absorb all sorts of ideas and ways to get along in everything we do. Sports, reading, writing, school friends, hot rod friends, even surfing friends are and were a part of our understanding of “other” people in our daily lives. It was not just how to take apart a motor, we learned that ourselves, but how to approach a problem and plan a way to get to the core of it, so alternate routes could be made to enjoy what we were doing.

Note: When I was under the jack stands of the Impala on a Thursday night changing the complete 3rd member of the Positraction unit, it was hard work. But, I had a goal in mind and the result would benefit me in the long run. So, I made it as easy as it was hard and the action moved right along.

I knew I could not lift it all the way up into the open housing. So, a few larger blocks of wood like a stair step allowed me to do it step by step until I could lift it into the opening and close everything up. A rolling floor jack, later on, helped raise/lower the center 3rd Positraction member up and down with ease.

So, it was not the methods our dad taught us, but how to see a problem and begin to construct a way to adapt to each item or situation.

Note 2: In football, I was second string to start my high school team. But, as I also played defense across from the tight end position, I knew both ways of defending my position. It was based on what I knew and adapted by being a tight end, as to the next moves coming across the center line on defense.

If I was able to foil the run or keep the tight end in place, the overall offensive plan would show itself. So, I did and the next thing I knew, the coaches put me on the first team offense at tight end. It also helped that I could block and catch anything thrown at me in the air.

I probably did not know it then, but our early information from our dad showed me indirectly, how to see a problem and adapt to the necessary items for the best outcome, plus a new direction. My wife and I have been using those early ideas about how to adapt to any situation and move along in our daily lives. It has worked and hopefully, without examples for our son and now, our granddaughter.

It was not a specific learned lesson, but, when they saw a situation and how we both resolved the scene, hopefully, they understood and learned something. Those ways of observation and the outcomes, may work for their future lives and approach to the many encounters they will face...YRMV

Note 3: Before he passed away, and we were walking around slowly at the LB Harbor, we talked a lot about Long Beach and how things have changed. But, I thanked him profusely for all of the information and opportunities he gave us over the years. He had a hard time returning my comments, but the smile across his face was worth it, forever. Thanks, dad…

 

My grandfather had no interest in mechanical things. But my dad, was a total gearhead. He was an aircraft mechanic with the Army Air Corps during World War Two, and always had an interest (and examples) of anything with a piston in it. He taught me and my brothers about everything mechanical, and how to fix it ourselves. We grew up going to antique engine shows in dad’s ‘41 Chevy pickup truck and a trailer packed full of antique outboards, hit and miss engines, and various pieces of equipment that were belted to the engines. I could go on about all the old tractors, cars and old boats we had, but just going to say: “thank you Dad”…

 

My dad wasn’t a hot-rodder , neither the time or the money. He learned mechanical skills from his dad, who served in WW1. Grandpa came back from overseas and set himself up to farm. What I know of him, he wasn’t afraid to try anything. He knew how to forge weld, he turned wrenches at a Whippet garage, and ran the village light plant generator in the evenings. Both the garage and light plant were in the now ghost town of Gascoyne where I grew up. He died when I was two. After forced servitude during the Korean Conflict, my father set himself up to farm, using money he earned working for other farmers. He learned to overhaul engines from his dad, along with fixing brakes, etc. He wasn’t afraid to try something, build something, or learn something. I must have inherited something from the both of them; after some research/thought,I have at it. I have some failures in my shop ventures, but can only move forward. Wish I could have known my grandpa (both of them), and as was stated in his obituary, my brothers and I felt blessed to call Vernon Peterson “Dad”. Two years gone, sure miss him (Mom, too). Dad gave his OT 65 Mustang to my nephew who is a freshman in college. Brother, nephew, and I had it in my shop all winter, doing some repairs/improvements. We could almost feel his presence, and almost hear his words of encouragement and admonishments.
Have to mention my Uncle Donald, Dad’s brother. He got me going to Rollag MN for the steam threshers reunion. After moving back to ND, I have been going with him and /or my dad and my daughter for the last 10 years. My daughter is 14 and looks forward to it. Uncle just turned 96 and is excited about another trip to Rollag this weekend. What’s not to love? Large displacement engines in the gas prairie tractors, the smell of coal smoke, lots of open gears, pure mechanical genius on display. How does 175 hp, and 5000 ft lbs torque sound from a 150 hp Case steamer ?

 

Just read this whole thread. Like Ryan, said, No, I'm not crying? I had , and still do have the WORLDS BEST DAD!!! No he wasn't into cars. But he's a very moral, polite, and just very nice guy. He sold his Knucklehead Harley to pay for me when I was born. I never saw or heard him drink, smoke, or even swear? I'm not say'n that he didn't? I'm just say'n that I never saw or heard him. The wild women, and the Hot Rods, were just all me. lol But I could not LOVE him any more than I do! He's 93 , and still in great health. I take him rides in the Hot Rods just about every day. I'm so blessed! Thanks Daddy!!!!

 

Most of you are lucky in this respect. My dad and I did not see eye to eye until I was 64 years old. When that came about, we were both happy. I never liked my dad when I was growing up, but I loved him. He was tough on me, but now I understand why he was. All I can say now, is that I miss him, and his wisdom, but I couldn't understand it at the time. Thanks, dad.

 

My Dad, shown here with my Mom, went to vo-tech in high school, was an Army Air Corps motor pool Staff Sgt in Burma in WW2. He was head machinist in an automotive machine shop when I was in grade school. He loved the advancing automotive technology of the fifties and sixties. Lost him almost thirty years ago but his spirit rides my shoulder when I'm in my shop and I swear I can hear distant laughter when I pull some bone-headed move.

 

I was very lucky as a child, to have the dad I did. His father was a mechanical genius, and a hell of a talented artist, who only had a 6th grade education.

My Grandfather holding a real bottle of 4 Roses whisky at the long beach jail. He was a real character, and a hell of a lot of fun !



My dad was a consummate bullshit artist, that inherited his dad's genes, of the mechanical aptitude and certain elements of the ability to be creative artistically when it came to construction and improvisation on just about anything.

This grouping of pictures is my Grandfather in the International truck, my dad next to the Packard Clipper, and my dads brother in the uniform. They were all Okie's from Oklahoma and were all raised on a ranch, which means you had to make do with what ever you had and you had to fix what ever was broken.
True ( OKIE ) shade tree mechanic's



I was lucky that I inherited all of those genes from the 3 of them.

My Dad and me back in Ada Oklahoma in 1957 when I was 4 years old.
The car bug bit me back then.



I was fortunate that all through grade school and through high school years as well, my dad and his cousin, owned an old wrecking yard, and they turned it into a car and truck repair business with a small body shop as well.



This was an amazing place to hang out and to be exposed to the world of grease, dirt, tools, going on tow calls, and working on all things mechanical.

The black arrow points to me working on my first 56 Cornbinder, retired bell telephone line service truck, that I bought in 75 when I got out of the Army. My dad sold it to me for $100.00 after he convinced me to sell the (POS) 59 M.G.A. roadster I bought, while I was in the Army, he knew what was good and what wasn't good!




My Dad was one of those rare birds, that knew how to have fun, and how to be a real practical joker, and not worry about the social consequences of being slightly outrageous !

More than once during the annual family gathering, at the Thanksgiving table during the prayer before eating, he would just let a huge loud fart rip the air, and then proclaim that his Father did that, and my Grandfather would say NO, this is how my fart's sound, and would let one rip, just to show the difference in tone and loudness !

Needless to say, my dad and his dad, were big influences on me on a variety of levels.

My dad hired his dad to be the cook for the mechanics at the wrecking yard, and when the word got around that there was good home cooked OKIE food for lunch at the wrecking yard, it was amazing to see the variety of different people that would show up at the wrecking yard to eat such good stuff that you couldn't get at any restaurant.

My grandfather is in the checkered, snazzy thrift store pants, my dad is next to him with the stain on his sleeve. I shot that photograph, so I am not in it.




Such a bummer that My dad got cancer and died at the relatively young age of 48 back in 77 and I was 24 years old at that time.

I was so lucky to be able to have been the bosses kid, that got stuck with all of the dirty nasty jobs at the wrecking yard, constant sweeping up, running the hot tank, cleaning out the grease pit, hauling garbage to the dump, cleaning parts in the parts washer, changing tires, balancing wheels, going on tow calls in the middle of the night, etc, etc, etc .

The list is long when it comes to the incredible memories I have about my dad and his dad and the wrecking yard.

Of all of the things that my dad taught me, the one thing I am grateful for, was how he taught me to have fun, and to never be bored, and how to make people laugh!
He was a master at it.

He tried like hell, to try to talk me out of buying the 1941 G.M.C. WW-2 K-18 Signal Corp Radio panel truck when I was 17, but I knew that secretly, he was laughing inside when he knew that this rig was going to be fun, and it would be a hell of a teaching machine for me learn how to work on trucks and cars.



He was so right !
There isn't a single day that goes by, that I don't think of him and his amazing skills with people and machines.
He had enough foresight, to let me be as outrageous as he was, and for that, I am very grateful for the time I had with him!

 

Along with what I said before when I was 15 he and my Mother went to buy a new '65 Chevy. It was almost a done deal. When I went with to look at it and finish the deal he thought enough of my opinion to let me talk him from a 4 door Belair with a 283 into a '65 Impala SS with a 327. It was $600 more and money was tight. We all loved that car.

 

I figured you might like to see them again. That was a few days ago Holmes.

 

It could happen.

 

That's my 18-year-old father in my avatar, "barnstorming" on his '32 2dr and his buddy's coupe.

In spite of the picture, I wouldn't call him a car guy. At least not after he started having kids. And he had a few LOL. I think it was all he could do just to do what he could do.

He taught me very little about cars. He did teach me carpentry and roofing and painting and stuff like that. Most importantly, he taught me that with some research and determination, I can probably do whatever I set out to do.