“What kind of car is that Tony?” my late grandfather asked a pint-sized version of myself in the late ’60s. He, being the car aficionado of Scott Drive, waited for my expected response with a grin.
“It’s a Volksagenagen, Papa,” I said, destroying the pronunciation of the popular Beetle brand.
Today, when my grandfather’s spirit pays me a visit, he usually makes his “entrance” with car references, such as the Volkswagen tale, or his accompanying me on test drives or washing any vehicle parked in his yard. While living, his favorite car yarn that he often shared involved his daughter, my mother.
On a deserted Alabama dirt road in the ’50s, my mother won a drag racing contest! Not a licensed driver at the time, she asked a girlfriend to hide her prize-winning trophy, as my mother didn’t want her dad to learn of her illegal auto maneuvers. Despite a good attempt to cover her tracks, word got around weeks later about this female driver who left her male competitors in the dust. When my late grandfather heard the news, he confronted her: “Congratulations! Now, I want to see this trophy!”
From the physical to the spiritual realm, my late grandfather is still the wheel deal!
Love and light,