It's been 19 years to the day that I lost my dad. Doesn't seem like that long ago.
While he wasn't a necessarily a "car guy" my dad always took meticulous care of his things. He taught me pride of ownership and why maintenance was so important. I learned those lessons the hard way a lot of the times, as I wasn't always the best student, being a dumb kid until I was well into my 20's.
I'm reposting one of my favorite stories about my him in his honor today.
I miss you dad.
The dumbest thing I ever did to a car (link to original post, copied below)
When friends or family need advice on cars and/or maintenance ā they often come to me. I am not a mechanic, but I know enough about basic maintenance and do a lot of my own on my cars. Iāve learned to wrench on my own cars originally by necessity, now itās for fun.
This was not always the case.
When I first got my license at 16, I knew nothing about cars, I was just happy to drive! Anything at any time. And the way our family schedule was, that meant that I would drive my mom to work and then myself to school.
At 5:00 I would pick my mom back up from her office. I got to drive every day - it was great!
Now this also meant that the only person behind the wheel of the family car was me.
A 1982 Buick Regal Limited (similar to the one pictured but in āAnthracite Metallicā). My dadās pride and joy ā the first car I remember him buying new.

I knew it needed gas to go, but that was the extent of my automotive knowledge. So, when the oil light came on, I did not know what that meant.
So I ignored it.
For weeks.
Well, one day on my way to pick my mom up from work ā the engine just..... stopped.
Done. Dead. Not moving.
I was only a few blocks from my momās office so I walked the rest of the way and we called my dad.
Shortly afterwards my dad shows up, then the tow truck to take it to the dealer (car was probably 2 years old and still under warranty). The service department called my dad with the news: The engine stopped because there was no oil in it. Completely empty.
The conversation with my dad:
Dad: āWas the oil light on?ā
Me: āYeah, I guess soā
Dad: āHow long was the light on?ā
Me: āI donāt know, a few weeks maybe?ā
Dad: āTHE OIL LIGHT WAS ON FOR A FEW WEEKS AND YOU DIDNāT THINK TO MENTION THIS TO ANYONE?!?!?!ā
Me: āI thought if it was important it would blink or somethingā¦.ā
Dad:
At this point I knew I was dead. I accepted it. No point in running or fighting, I just accepted it. I had broke my dadās car. Not by having an accident, not a momentary lapse in judgement. But by utter and complete prolonged negligence. There was no defense.
I had no doubt I was a ādead teen walkingā at this point ā I knew this was bad. I had no idea what my dad was going to do. But whatever it was, I deserved it. I knew that much.
Then something happened. For those who say there is no God, I disagree. I have proof.
Just as my father was taking a deep breath (to start yelling or beating, I still donāt know), the phone rang. This was before caller ID, and I donāt remember if we had an answering machine or not ā but at our house, if the phone rang ā you answered it.
It was the dealership. They topped off the oil and the Regal started right up. They could not find a thing wrong with it. Ran fine, they went through it and everything was good.
To this day I maintain that divine intervention (and that phone call) saved my life. If not for that call, I would not be here today to tell this tale. I didnāt even get in trouble. My dad mumbled something about me being a ādumb-ass kidā and to let him know in the future if there was any indicators or light on the dash and explained why.
My dad wasnāt a ācar guyā, but he meticulously maintained everything he owned. Cars, mowers, tools, etc.
I inherited that and can now understand his anger and frustration because his āstupid kidā ran an engine run out of oil.
Iām now about the age my dad was then, and I have a dumb ass kid myself. Had this situation been repeated on my car, I could look back and remember a time when 'I' was the dumb ass and how my father handled it.
And then I would kill him.