A father, a Son, and a Grand Prix

Randy Gearhart with his Pontiac Grand Prix on the day he graduated from Northern in 1968. He used to cruise through the Clio Road Arby's and the A & W. "I guess that a good many of the miles on this car were 'Clio Road Crusin’ Miles,'" he says.

Randy Gearhart may live in Georgia now, but he is definitely a “Flint guy.” He lived at 2314 Ohio Street, a few blocks from the A.C., before moving to 2913 Mallery Street, just off Ballenger. He went to Washington Elementary and Longfellow before graduating from Northern in 1968. He was home from college in the summer of 1969 working at A.M. Davison’s when he met his future wife, Debbi Reburn, across the street in the Carriage Room at Smith B’s. She worked the counter where he often went for lunch or a Tall Texan, more commonly known as a chocolate soda.
 
Even his name sounds like Flint.
 
Randy has a story to tell about his father and growing up in The Vehicle City. It was originally posted on Flint Expatriates on August 14, 2008.

My dad, Robert Gearhart, was superintendent of labor relations at Fisher Body Plant #2. In late November, 1964, he told me that I could pick out our family’s next car. It would be replacing our 1962 Chevrolet Impala.

Wow! Really? I had just turned 14 a couple months earlier. What a responsibility. What an honor.

I started looking through our most recent issues of Look and Life to see the new season’s offerings. Turning the magazine pages, I suddenly stopped. There she was. I had to look no further. The Pontiac Grand Prix.

The original magazine advertisement that caught Randy's eye.

I told dad that this was the car I wanted us to get. We got in our Applegate Chevy and rode over to Superior Pontiac/Cadillac on Dort Highway. Dad put in the order. A few weeks later, we got “the call” that our new car was ready for pick up.
One week after we took delivery of our new Grand Prix, on a gray December day, my dad suffered a heart attack. He died in the hall outside his office at Fisher Body.

He was only 40.

He had purchased an insurance policy that would pay off the car in case of his death. That was a good thing. But, that shiny, new, paid-off Pontiac became so much more than just a car to me. It was a connection to a man who loved his family and a dad who trusted a pimply-faced kid to make one of the most important purchase decisions a family can make.

The older I get, the more that act of trust means to me.

Thanks, Dad.

The Bench Seat Gets Benched

The bench seats many Flintoids grew up with are fading fast. John Pearley Huffman of The New York Times reports:

The 2013 Cadillac XTS comes with only front bucket seats, unlike the DTS it replaced, leaving only one new passenger car in the United States with an available front bench seat. That car, the current-generation Chevrolet Impala, will go away in a few months, too. 

Front bench seats — essentially a door-to-door couch — were the default seating mode for most of the American car industry’s history. Benches were cheaper to make than individual chairs, and they provided space for the most passengers. The column-mounted gear shifter, which freed space for a third passenger in the middle of the front seat, was a breakthrough when it appeared on Cadillacs and Pontiacs in 1938. 

But as affordable European sports cars arrived in America after World War II, individual seats gained cachet; they spread to sporty American cars, including the first Chevrolet Corvettes, and contributed to the glamorous image of luxurious performance cars like the 1959 Chrysler 300E. In the ’60s, most American brands offered sporty trim packages, like Chevy’s Super Sport option with a bucket-seat upgrade. In the decades since, buckets spread to cars of all sizes and types.

Auto Show Speculation

Ahh, perfection.

I went to the San Francisco International Auto Show this weekend. Unencumbered by any research, interviews or statistics, here are a few random thoughts:

1. Wandering around the concourses, taking in hundreds of cars that more or less look exactly the same — give or take a few oldies and oddities — it just seems like there are too many makes, models and players in this game. Are there really enough people out there to buy enough of these bland cars to keep all the automakers in business?

2. Remember back, oh, a few months ago when cars with decent mileage were all the rage? Remember all the giddy talk of weening ourselves off foreign oil? Aside from the hybrids, Smart cars, and a few small exceptions, the show was all about pickup and power.

3. Saab should just fold. You could not look at one of their cars and differentiate it from any other brand. The spokeswoman seemed depressed and unconvincingly said, "The company has two perspective buyers. We'll have new owners soon." Volvo is also getting dangerously close to anonymity. What's happened to the once-distinctive European carmakers? Could it be that they are owned by the Americans now?

4. Even if you don't like the look, you have to hand it to Cadillac. Their sharp-angled design stands out, even though it seems like you might cut yourself if you get too close.

Don't believe me? Listen to Joe Lorio of The New York Times:

Even if you knew nothing about European wagons, one look at the CTS Sport Wagon would dispel any notion that this is the second coming of the Country Squire. There’s nothing retro to it. Even more so than the CTS sedan, the wagon is a showcase for Cadillac’s faceted, angular design.

Take the liftgate, for instance. Instead of a flat plane, it comes to a point in the middle. And check out the bladelike taillamps, which extend from the bumper all the way to the roof. Particularly unusual for a wagon are the ultraslim rear-quarter windows and extra-wide rear pillars. They make it look as if Cadillac’s designers were afraid to let their wagon look like a wagon — and in fact, they were.

5. One of the loneliest guys at the auto show was the Buick Lacrosse spokesman. He kept pitching while he paced the rotating dais he shared with Buick's hope for the future, but nobody was listening. Where was everybody? Huddled around the Camaros and Corvettes.

Anyone in the market for a V16? Look no further than the 1934 Cadillac Aero Coupe.

How big is the Escalade? It's as wide as the wingspan of Michael, my 6'3" Polish-American friend from Kansas.

It's hard to tell but this is a Chevy Impala. I'm not really sure what to say about this car except that is was mesmerizing.

This Rolls Royce tank costs $430,000. It doubles as a very large stainless steel fridge.

The Impala of your dreams.

A woodie without the wood, courtesy of a trompe l'eoil paint job.


Traci experiences what it's like to drive something other than a 1990 Camry or a 2002 Elantra.

UPDATE: Some thoughts, via Facebook, from Eric Francis, a journalist I worked with in Little Rock, Arkansas who once wrote one of the best car articles I've ever read way back in the early '90s. (Hey Eric, if you have a digital copy of that piece, send it my way.)

Ah, I'd LOVE to go to one of the big auto shows! I share your opinion of the anonymity of so many car brands. They look alike, feel alike, sound alike - there's nothing to distinguish them. But remember, in America it's bland that sells. (Viz: American Idol last year.)

The speed with which this nation abandoned fuel efficiency as The New Top Priority also amazed me. I recently talked to a friend who sells used cars and asked if there's a booming market for gas-sippers; nope, he said, it's all pickups and SUVs. I still firmly believe the only thing that will drive up average MPG in America is government establishing a floor on gas prices - say $4.50 a gallon - but that'll only happen after every member of Congress voluntarily gets a lobotomy.

As for the distinct European brands, they still exist - they just aren't sold here. Fiat, Peugeot, Renault, Citroen (yes, I know those last three are French, but...), even GM's European cars tend to look a little more distinct than their American lineup. It's ironic that the (marginally) most distinct American car line, Pontiac, got the axe in favor of keeping Buick, which appeals to senior citizens and the Chinese.

As much as I'd enjoy driving a asphalt-burning, tire-spinning, gas-guzzling road racer, I'm still perfectly happy with my Golf turbodiesel. Great mileage, great practicality, fun to drive.