A series of essays….
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A SCENE THAT IS BECOMING MORE FAMILIAR EVERY DAY: PUBLICLY CHARGING OUR ELECTRIC VEHICLES. |
COURTESY OF DRIVESOCIETY.COM
….as seen through my eyes!
By: Jacqueline E Hughes
At an early age, I wanted a dark green Jeep! So much so that I called my first two wheeler, with training wheels, painted a light blue, and salvaged from someplace other than Sears and Roebuck, my ‘Little Jeep.’ A shout out to Roy Rogers, Pat Brady, and Nellybelle, Pat’s Jeep. I was as rugged and terrifying on that bike (sans training wheels, eventually) as any little boy on our block! After all — it was my Jeep and I could blaze a new dirt trail with the best of them. Simply conquering a city sidewalk, complete with uneven concrete slabs pushed up at odd angles by the roots of mature maple trees lining the block, was a feat to behold. Affixing a playing card to a spoke with a spring loaded clothespin brought life to my Jeep each time I went out to conquer the rugged terrain of suburban Mishawaka, Indiana.
I was what many people who knew me well called a tomboy. Being rough and tumbled put me in my comfort zone; having an older brother solidified the deal.
Ronnie got a bike that year, too. It arrived in a huge, flat box that hung out from the trunk of my dad’s powder blue Chevy. My mother’s face beamed with joy when Ronnie first saw the box and realized its contents. Dad looked a bit perplexed as he pulled piece after piece out of the cardboard container until he found the instruction booklet. Saving the assembly fee offered by Sears and doing it himself wasn’t the option dad particularly preferred right about then. But, with a little time, a few swear words whispered under his breath, and mom’s help, the job got done and Ronnie was the proud owner of a very fancy new bike.
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MY BALLOON TIRE “LITTLE JEEP” |
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MY OLDER BROTHER’S ENGLISH RACER |
And there it was, parked in our driveway, an ‘English Racer’ — a maroon Schwinn with 3-speeds and handbrakes, a small basket on each side of the back tire, and the skinniest, white walled, 26-inch tires I could ever imagine! Thin, gray wires protruded from the low profile, racing handlebars to each tire and small switches and levers lined the sleek curvature of the bars themselves. It all looked so futuristic and exotic to this five-year old kid. My big brother was going to be able to fly through our neighborhood like an Indy race car on its Memorial Day run, all revved-up and powered by fine-tuned mechanics and super human adrenaline.
All I wanted to see right then was Ronnie up on that narrow seat and balanced on those skinny tires that made my balloon tires look like my grandmother’s ankles after working on her feet all day. Of course, he managed, although there was a learning curve when it came to adjusting to the three speed positions and use of the handbrakes. Everyone called these 3-speed bikes English Racers referring to the riders in Europe who rode the Super Dome bike tracks for speed and fame. Funny, our English Racers weren’t really racing bikes, but they sure looked like it to all of us. And, I don’t know where Ronnie’s ended up, but I’m certain he got his mileage out of that beautiful bike.
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NELLYBELLE THE JEEP FROM THE ROY ROGER’S TV SHOW |
Ronnie, when not off on a wild adventure of his own, soon became our Uber Driver, Shipt Shopper, and GrubHub delivery service while dad was traveling around the Midwest for his job. Since mom never had a license to drive, his role during the week on that speedy English Racer made life a bit less hectic for the three of us left at home.
With the influence of my dad leading the way, my love of bikes eventually turned into a love affair with the automobile. Keeping the memory of the green Jeep close to my heart, Dan and I contemplated purchasing a Jeep Wrangler shortly after we were married in the autumn of ‘73 after he’d applied for construction jobs in Eugene, Oregon. We had hoped to blaze our own trails out on the West Coast but never made it out there and did not invest in a Wrangler, either. Instead, our first vehicle together was a midnight blue, stick shift, Pontiac Firebird Esprit with white interior. The purchase price was somewhere in the range of $3,500 and quite a bargain for two twenty-three year olds.
I had to wait a little while for my very own ‘English Racer,’ but, it was well worth it. I loved that car.
Eventually, after our two daughters were old enough to appreciate the ride, we purchased a 1984 Pontiac Trans Am with T-Tops and built-in roll bar. With its V-8 engine and super easy maneuverability, we spent many sunny road trips with the wind blowing our hair into a frenzy and having no particular destination in mind. We would just follow the broken white lines and take pleasure in the scenery and the ride.
Dad always told us to enjoy every vehicle we had by taking good care of it no matter what model or year it was. Our car was the ticket we needed to explore any road we wanted and would lead us to places we never knew existed. In this regard, he was a very wise man. Where dad lacked patience in other fields, we knew that when it came to driving the family car on vacation road trips at sixteen, he was the one who allowed us to take charge and do the right thing without fear of repercussions. In other words, he trusted us being in charge and that gave us the confidence we needed to sit behind the wheel.
The self-assurance dad instilled in all four of us kids created our respect and love of the automobile. He really should have owned his own dealership. He would have been an amazing salesman with such passion and determination to back him up. Although, working for the Sinclair Oil Corporation and Quaker State Motor Oil Company placed him as close to his beloved cars as possible. We would move as a family at least once a year in order to keep his dream alive and soon became ‘nomads for the cause’ and learned to adjust out of necessity.
I don’t know how dad would have reacted to the latest venture of helping to save the world via the electric car complete with its rechargeable batteries and multiple charging stations throughout the country. This concept would seem to go against every principle he ever stood for or believed in. This was a man who enjoyed getting dirty while changing the oil in his car; who used to chide about Ethyl octane gas and jokingly ask who was Ethyl, anyway?; wash his hands raw with Lava Soap after a weekend of working on the car, and made a decent living for his family by selling the very products, gas and oil, that electric cars are eliminating.
Respecting change is what it’s all about and dad was of the generation that ran away from change; embraced the attitude that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I think he might have tried to talk me out of what I know and believe I should do in order to create as small of a footprint on this earth as possible. As an adult, I have wanted an electric car for a long time. Now, living up in Michigan again, there are certain prerequisites that slide into the ‘must have’ category when thinking of purchasing any new vehicle and having 4-wheel drive marks the number one slot.
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2021 FORD BRONCO |
For now, I am seriously looking at the new and modernized Ford Bronco this time around, but waiting for the premier of their electric model slated for 2022. I know dad must be rolling over in his grave right about now having been a Chevrolet (at least a General Motors) man most of his life. However, I’m finding a huge likeness between my ‘Little Jeep’ from many years ago and the Ford Bronco. It has just enough ruggedness built into it along with plenty of panache to match a sleek English Racer, any day — all while keeping an intelligent outlook towards the future of clean driving.
On second thought, I think my dad would be proud of my decision.
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ALL EYES TO THE FUTURE! |
Copyright © 2021 by Jacqueline E Hughes
All rights reserved
