RACING (?) IN A SERIES NINE
A typical workday. My workdays are really no different from most people's. I've got responsibilities, schedules, deadlines, and priorities. Like many of us, on a typical day in today's fast-paced world, I'm running full throttle, trying to keep fairly close to schedule.
On this particular day, I was running all over town, looking for some particular part or product that was badly needed to keep a project on schedule. I was also preparing a customer car for a tour - specifically the 1921 Series 9-B sedan belonging to Glenn Bartsch. If I didn't find the part I was looking for, a major project would grind to a halt and I'd have a shop full of restorers with nothing to restore. On top of all this, the Midwest Region tour was approaching and I badly needed to accumulate some miles on Glenn's car to be certain it would perform flawlessly during the upcoming weekend. It thus happened that I found myself on a beautiful, sunny summer morning driving a Series 9 Sedan frantically around town, pulling in and out of every hardware or parts outlet I could find.
I had noticed a blue sedan follow me into an auto parts store lot and pull up next to me. I sensed it was a "looker" - someone who wanted to get a closer look at the old car on the road. Not having any time to spare I dashed into the auto parts store. My search was once again frustrated - they did not, in fact have the part - even after I had called and they assured me they had one in stock. I could try their store across town, perhaps they had one. Now I was going to have to drive 12 miles through traffic, see if they had what I needed, then drive back to the shop - all in time to keep the schedule going and avoid employees sitting around with nothing to do. All in a brand new, fully restored Ser. 9 sedan with less than 100 miles on it in the past 40 years. Arrrg! I ran out of the store, jumped into the V-windshield sedan and caught a glimpse of the blue sedan while I whirled around in reverse, properly pointed to make a quick dash into the busy street.
Dashing into traffic, all six little cylinders firing well, for all they're worth. When you're in a hurry, an old car always feels slow as molasses no matter what year or make it is.
Funny, that blue sedan contained an older woman.
Wind it up in first, drop into second - c'mon, I've got to make the next light.
She never got out of her car to go into the auto parts store. I wonder why.
Wind up in second - it seems to take forever to get into high gear.
When I backed up, she was looking directly at the car and me.
Full throttle in high - what, am I pulling a sled of bricks here!?
When I pulled out of the lot, I noticed in the huge Series 9 rearview mirror that she was still looking at me.
I don't have time to worry about an old lady who looks lost in an auto parts store lot ! Through the rearview mirror, I could still see her car in the lot. How am I going to get through this day! Dang! Missed the light. Sit and wait, sit and wait…..
She's still there…….
Aw, hell.
I pulled a badly executed and legally questionable U-turn in the middle of the intersection and drove back to the parts store lot. She was still there. When I pulled up, I saw her eyes widen. We made eye contact and she looked away. I shut off the engine and through the open window asked her if she was interested in taking a closer look at this car. She exited her blue sedan without a word and walked timidly around her car and over to the big green sedan. She stood on tip toes, trying to get a look inside the car through the high, expansive windows. I got out and held the door open for her. She was literally silent as she gazed all around the interior. I asked her if she knew what kind of car it was and she said in a near whisper "Yes, Franklin". Then she offered "My mother and father had one, just like it, up on the farm when I was just a little girl. I'll never forget it, it was just like this car" At this point her voice trailed and I could see the tears as she fumbled for a kerchief from her purse. She appeared to be very upset and quite distressed. I feared there was a terrible accident related with her family Series 9, or some great tragedy that had been repressed for many decades, only to be brought hauntingly back by the ominous sight of this green and black 78 year old car.
I really did not know how to respond, or what to do. I managed to mumble "I'm very sorry if seeing this car brings back some sad memories" She managed a smile through he tears and said "Oh, no. They're such beautiful memories. It was such a long time ago, I was just a little girl on our lovely farm. It was a wonderful, wonderful time. My life was so different then." She gave me a very large smile and a very gracious and sincere thank-you. I gave her my card and told her if she ever wanted to see it again, or would enjoy a ride on a quiet road, to please call me.
She got back into her sedan and I into the Franklin. As I carefully backed around, she smiled - still with swollen eyes, but a look of contented happiness. I pulled slowly away, made the light and continued on my journey at a leisurely pace. The car ran perfectly, it sounded wonderful, it looked beautiful. It made me happy to be driving it.
I never heard from the woman again. I don't remember if I got the part I was looking for - it's not important. But I certainly have never forgotten her. Frequently, when I find myself rushing around in one of my own cars, I'll think of her and slow my pace. I'll relax and enjoy my car for what it does for me and what it does for other people - bring pleasure and joy. That's what it's all about.
Happy Holidays to all -
Tom Rasmussen