Lost Horizon
I’ve had a whole lot of cars. By choice, chance or design, motorized vehicles have played a significant role in most stations of my existence.
I’m sure I’m not an anomaly. When the needs of society took the population off of horses and put it on wheels, life changed dramatically. My teen years came along post World War II, in the middle of the Industrial Revolution, an era largely fueled by the explosive growth of the auto industry.
By my earliest memories, Dad had a 1941 Dodge. He was a driver, not a fixer, and traded cars in when they became troublesome. His youngest son (me), however, was fascinated by automobiles and the engines that moved them. My first car, at the age of 14, was purchased from a junkyard for $50. I have had several engines in it and still have the 1934 Plymouth coupe to this day.
I was generally loyal to GM vehicles for many years, especially the quality and performance of their in-line six cylinder engines, then the small block V-8 engine which revolutionized the industry. But, I was really impressed with the development of the post-war Japanese cars, and the meteoric improvement in their quality. After the war, the U.S. helped to rebuild industrial Japan, shared much of their emergent automotive technology, and it was put to use.
I went through a period when I enjoyed rebuilding wrecked cars and pickup trucks using parts gleaned from several wrecked vehicles. Some, multicolored before their final paint job, would serve as the family vehicle, one time causing our daughter Lori to petition her mom, “Could you ask daddy to get us a car that is all one color?”
There were a few vehicles from my family cars that I would rate as great, either for their perceived quality, or just my satisfaction with them. Probably at the top of my favorites list would be a 1982 Honda Accord, rebuilt from a total wreck that ran trouble free for more than 200,000 miles.
Our collector’s edition 2001 Toyota Camry was still dependable at 300,000 miles. But the most fun to drive was my Corvair Spyder. Contrary to Ralph Nader’s analogy of the little cars, the supercharged Spyder was fast and safe. It had competition suspension and was a dream to handle. We rode it, raced it, and quickly grew out of it when our second daughter was born.
If there is a best, there must be a worst. That’s an easy call. While I had several satisfactory Chrysler vehicles, I had terrible luck with a 1980 Plymouth Horizon, which I also rebuilt. I probably should have left it in Joe Morgan’s junkyard, but a friend convinced me that it would be a good buy.
Similar in size and design to a VW Rabbit, the sub-compact Horizon pioneered front wheel drive technology in American-built cars. It was comfortable and easy to drive, but it needed to be towed from downtown Pittsburgh, the Kennywood parking lot, Jefferson Hospital and Winchester Va. It had been totaled because of an engine compartment fire, and while the rebuild was simple, the car was defective in multiple departments.
While my wife Bert and I were following our daughter and her husband to their apartment near Jefferson Hospital, a radiator hose ruptured, and the car disappeared in a cloud of steam.
I got rid of the Horizon shortly thereafter.
Roy Hess Sr. is a retired teacher and businessman from Dawson.