When I was little, I liked white convertibles. I don’t know why. My “uncle” (aka, Dad’s buddy) was a car salesman and always gave me a Barbie car for Christmas. I wouldn’t say that’s where my love of cars started, but I remember it being a part of my childhood. Today, I think convertibles are one of the worst types of car. If you have allergies, they’re no fun. If you live somewhere with lots of winter or rain, that’s no fun either. Forget the sunscreen? Oh boy. They’re also less safe than normal cars (although that has improved with new models of convertibles), and they also don’t drive as well and are out of balance compared to a normal car. (But again, this is improving with newer models). When I was about nine, my favorite car was a red 1969 Pontiac Firebird—hardtop. Don’t ask me how I got there or why I wanted it. I remember cutting the tiny picture out of Auto Trader. I cherished that little grainy photo and held on to it for many years. Then that love faded, too. Into the teenage years and about fifteen, I was really into the Chevy Corvette, specifically in black. Being a huge Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers fan, I had read in an article that Tom Petty had one in the past (probably the 80s) and so… that was instantly the coolest car ever. Slowly my interest in cars faded. Except I hated Mustangs. My mother left when I was ten and bought a newer one with the divorce money. The dash lighted up purple and everything about the inside was flimsy and cheap. I hated it. I’m still not a fan of Mustangs, but I have more appreciation for the very early models and for Carrol Shelby. Her dad loved Mustangs. He had two model cars on his fireplace and I would always clean them with water and Q-Tips. I took care of them and he saw this. He passed away when I was eight and my grandma gave them to me; she knew they meant something to me, especially because I loved him. He was a friendly and cool person. He did auto body work and loved to watch NASCAR races that he had on VHS. He would sit up until four in the morning watching old races, eating popcorn, smoking cigarettes, and drinking beer. The lifestyle didn’t treat him well and he died of cancer when I was eight. On my father’s side, his grandpa was a mechanic. My dad’s mother worked at the Hudson dealership. One day, my grandpa decided he wanted to go see the new 1950 model Hudson (and meet the cute girl working the desk). The rest of that relationship lasted 66 years until my grandma (who was more like a mother to me than my own) passed away in 2016. She always wanted a red Mercedes-Benz convertible and she never got one. You could say cars were always in my life. My dad set up his own used car dealership when I was about nine. It was a dream of his that didn’t work out because of the economy… and the fact that he was way too honest to be a used car dealer. When I was fifteen, I wanted to be a musician. I wanted a hippie van and my dad bought a 1995 Dodge Grand Caravan. It was green and the paint was shoddy. It was a comfort to drive and he drove it around everywhere... But I never got to drive it with my license. It was the first car I ever drove using my learner’s permit. I really liked it; but one day, Dad asked me to practice driving in our cornfield. It was October and the crop was already harvested. He wanted me to drive a pick-up truck, but because the seat wouldn’t move forward, I couldn’t reach the pedals to drive it. (I’m five-foot-one and a quarter). With that in mind, he said I could just drive the van instead. I was driving around the cornfield rocking out to Blue Oyster Cult on the radio. I don’t remember if it was “Don’t Fear the Reaper” or “Burnin’ for You,” but either way—they’re both fitting. I turned the van around and saw a patch of fire in front of me. I thought the way out of the field was blocked by the flames, so I shut the van off to leave the field. Unthinking, I had shut the van off in gear. (A car will not turn on if it’s still in gear). After squinting and realizing I could drive out of the field. I tried to turn the van back on to drive out of the field. That’s when I saw the flames under my hood. I grabbed the keys and exited the car. I knew cars didn’t blow up like they do in the films. I wasn’t that naive. I did a quick sprint to a safe distance away, pulled out my phone, and called my Dad. I distinctly remember my words: “the field and the van are on fire. Call the fire department.” He called dispatch and I waited. I walked across the field to the neighbors. The neighbor waited with me. We sat on lawn chairs with a garden hose between us just in case the fire crept too close. It was raging a few hundred feet away in a circle around the van. The only thing I could think of was “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash. There’s nothing you can do in a situation like that. I was calm and did what I had to do to keep myself safe. It took six minutes for the fire department to arrive. In the end, twenty-five acres of cornfield were scorched and the van exploded seven times. Seven different fire departments were on our farm (between extra grass trucks and bringing extra water). There are several things that could have gone much worse. Firstly, I could have died or had been seriously injured; that’s clear. But if we had soybeans instead of corn harvested that year, our home and our neighbors’ would have burned down. Fire spreads quicker though soybeans. If the firemen weren’t incredibly brave, driving right out into the flames, it would have reached the trees or the field and burned down our barn or home. If it had reached the trees, the firemen would have had to let it burn until it reached the next street over where more people lived. The insurance company decided it was mechanical failure (and therefore not my fault). I have my intake manifold. It melted and recast itself on the ground. The melting point of aluminum is 1,221°F (660.3°C). It’s a slivery blob now and a nice conversation piece. I failed my driver’s written exam once and my in-car exam three times. Technically, the first failure wasn’t my fault because the brake lights had a sudden non-functioning malfunction. Whoops. The second time I failed maneuverability (I was in a ’94 GMC Safari. The same as a Chevy Astro van). Those big vans are hard to maneuver. I practiced for two days (a total of ten hours) in the car between the cones in my grandpa’s yard in the van and ended up failing a second time. We’ll chalk it up to nerves. My driving exam, however, was perfect. I went back in a little Chevy Prizm and went through the cones like a breeze. In the seven years since, I have never gotten a ticket or been in a collision. A couple years later, we sold the GMC Safari because gas prices were high and I took over my Dad’s Chevy Cobalt. As much as I dislike Chevys, it has been a good car mechanically, but it’s terribly uncomfortable (seats, not suspension), the interior is cheap and breaking off, the paint is peeling and fading to gray. I’m not a fan of it, but it gets me where I need to go. My automobile fascination is rather new, really. It was an accumulation of being in a car family and loving Harry Potter, Edgar Wright films, Doctor Who, a bunch of other amazing British television, and then finally Top Gear… that set it off. My first full episode of Top Gear was when Benedict Cumberbatch came on the show. (I’m not a fangirl; I just think he’s a great actor and happened to tune in). By the end of the episode, it was “Cuberbatwho?” I was awestruck. I had never seen something filmed and produced more beautifully than Top Gear. Nor had I ever seen something so beautiful as the segment for the McLaren 12C. I’m pretty sure I made some erotic noises… There were beautiful, unobtainable cars and three British blokes mucking about and making immature jokes. I was hooked. Thankfully, I had nearly thirteen years of the show to catch up on. It didn’t take me long. One day it hit me. As much as I loved Top Gear, there was no car that I really admired or claimed as my “dream car.” Everyone had one, didn’t they? A dream car? I didn’t. The Corvette and Pontiac had faded. My new dream car had to be perfect. It had to stand for everything that I admired in a company and a car. Then it hit me like a brick. Aston Martin. Specifically, the Aston Martin Vanquish. I liked James Bond as a kid (and as an adult) and it fit me perfectly. As a company, Aston Martin values refinement, soul, and artistry. They keep their legacy and craftsmanship alive through the generations. It seemed a perfect fit. All was well. I had a dream car to pin on my wall and an obsession strong enough to blog about. That’s all this woman needs. (But she really wants an Aston Martin.) These days, I don't know where I'm going, but I know that I will do my best to keep interesting automobiles at the heart of whatever I do.
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Ferdinand Porsche, a German, started his company in 1931 as a development and consulting company. They didn’t make their own cars yet, but they consulted for other automakers.
Ferdinand Porsche’s first assignment was from the German government (AKA: Adolf Hitler) in the mid 1930s to make Hitler’s ideal “Car of the people.” Hitler wanted this car to be something everyone would own. What Porsche designed—was the Volkswagen Beetle. That’s right. The icon of the hippies—peace and love—was Hitler’s concept of the perfect car for the populace that he controlled leading into WWII. Essentially, the original VW Beetle isn’t really a Volkswagen, it’s a Porsche. Just a year after the Beetle was built, WWII began. With projects like the Beetle pushed aside, Porsche developed the “Kübelwagen” which basically means “tub car.” It was a light military vehicle based heavily on the Beetle. Porsche also designed a couple tanks. As the war came to an end, Ferdinand Porsche was arrested for war crimes, but not tried. However, he was imprisoned for twenty months. During this time, his son, Ferry, successfully held the family company together. Ferry created the first car that was sold under the true Porsche brand. Most cars built by Porsche after WWII and into the 50s used Beetle components because parts were in short supply. Like most car companies, racing their automobiles created publicity and helped sales.
Ferry Porsche’s nephew, Ferdinand Piech was responsible for the iconic Porsche 911 model (1963). After working at Porsche, he worked for Audi and then later became Volkswagen chairman.
Volkswagen and Porsche have always had a close relationship. Today, Volkswagen owns controlling interest in Audi (German), Lamborghini (Italian), Bugatti (French), Porsche (German), and Ducati (Italian motorcycle company). As for the 911 model, they’ve never really changed. To me, all 911 models look exactly the same. Plus, the engine (like the original Beetle) is in the back of the car. Which means when you go around a corner, the rear end can fling out like a pendulum. And that can be fun... or terrifying. Porsche is an incredibly resilient company. With the 911, they’ve sold essentially the same car since 1963 and have remained a strong company with good sales. For many years, it was a family company involving Ferdinand Porsche, Ferry Porsche, and Ferdinand Piech. Even though they worked with the Nazi regime and invented the Beetle, I do have a deep respect for Porsche and their ability to survive a world war and still come out on top with a product that people want… and not to mention a successful racing history. I have grown to respect them as a company with an astonishing history that created iconic images and shaped cultures. While I’m not a fan of the Beetle, you have to commend the Hippie era of the 1960s for taking a Nazi car and turning it into a symbol of peace and love. I’m not sure Hitler would be too happy about that… and that’s success. One final note: the correct pronunciation is"Por-shuh." (Not "Porsh").
References:
Leffingwell, Randy. "Porsche: A History of Excellence." Motorbooks. 2011. Print.
American fans of the Ford Motor Company may tend to look down on Aston Martin, a quintessentially British company with road cars priced anywhere from 50K-300K. Why would anyone who admires Ford, the makers of the first affordable peoples’ car, be interested in a seemingly snobbish luxury car company?
The history of Aston Martin and Ford is more entwined than most might think… Before Henry Ford revolutionized the automobile industry, steam powered cars and electric cars dominated the streets (after horses, of course). Yes, electricity was a common way to power a car in the early 1900s, but just like any car of the age, it had its faults. After Henry Ford found a way to mass-produce the internal combustion engine, his automobiles were less than half the price of the steam and electric competition. Henry Ford was the innovator of his time. He was one of the first leading forces to use publicity—he would race his cars on Sunday and sell them on Monday. He was imaginative and willing to take risks. He wanted more and he wanted better. His company was his vision. Ford established his company in 1903 and Aston Martin was established only a decade later in 1913, the same year Ford introduced the first assembly line.
Aston Martin’s story doesn’t quite have the same whirlwind success as Ford—theirs is a story of perseverance and plucky underdog spirit. Aston Martin carries the British ideal of never recognizing defeat and always pushing forward. In reality, the company survived because of luck and hard work—allowing the craftsmanship that has been passed down through the generations to prevail today.
Like Henry Ford, Lionel Martin and Robert Bamford believed competition improved products and drove sales—Lionel Martin also competed in races, hill climbs, and trials. Aston Martin, making mostly Grand Tourer (GT) cars, has taken part in many endurance races (races that last six or more hours). In 1959, Aston Martin won the Le Mans 24 hour endurance race. They ran two cars, one took first place and the other took second. Ferrari was close behind them, but Roy Salvadori (UK) and Carroll Shelby (US) went home with the win. Yes, that Carroll Shelby. And he was suffering from dysentery during the race. The average speed of the Aston Martin cars was 112.56 MPH and of the 56 cars to race that day, only 13 finished. Carroll Shelby would go on to build the 1965 Shelby Mustang GT350—arguably the most famous Ford model ever produced. He also built the ’65 Cobra Daytona Coupe, the ’65 Shelby Cobra 427, and many others.
When the James Bond film Goldfinger came out in 1964 and featured the Aston Martin DB5, it boosted sales, but a car company taking the time to build every car by hand was never going to survive in our modern economy without something else to sustain it. Aston Martin had wanted to make a less expensive car to help fund their company, but in their position, this wasn’t possible—until Ford Motor Company bought controlling interest of Aston Martin in 1987. With Ford’s financial backing, Aston Martin was free to visualize their dream and develop without interference.
1987 was also the year Aston Martin returned to international motor racing. Thanks to the Ford Motor Company, it was full-speed ahead for Aston Martin. The 1988 Aston Martin Virage was the first car produced under Ford’s ownership. Before the Ford Era, all of Aston Martin’s cars were built by hand using traditional coachbuilding craft. But Aston Martin’s craftsmanship didn’t end with the introduction of the assembly line. To this day, the company has the capacity to bend aluminum, sew interiors, and create high quality automobiles. They only have one robot on site and its name is James Bonder (because it applies adhesive). They begin training with apprenticeship programs and pass the hands-on craft through generations. If asked to build a replica of the Aston Martin DB5, they could do it to this day. Because Ford lost a record $12.7 billion overall in 2006, they were obligated to sell Aston Martin in 2007 after twenty years. They sold the majority of Aston Martin’s ownership to an investment consortium. Aston Martin, after over a century, is still a British company—it persevered and never admitted defeat. Aston Martin Racing still takes part in the 24 hour Le Mans and other endurance racing (FIA World Endurance Championship series). They recently won the 2017 race back in June.
In a world where people have forgotten the art of creating with their hands and everything is made in an assembly line with plastic and robots, Aston Martin continues to prevail as a company of quality and craftsmanship. But that’s coming back to our culture. More people want to know the feeling of creating something exquisite with their hands and passing that art on to their children. There is something deeply satisfying in creating a product with your hands and seeing it through to the finished product.
I remember watching a video of Aston Martin employees turning a Toyota iQ into an Aston Martin Cygnet. It showed their job title, their skills, and finally an image of what their hands looked like. For me, it’s satisfying enough to be passionate about a company that takes pride in its employees’ hands and in the honesty of hard work. The manual transmission is dying out to automatic and semi-automatic transmissions. The demand for them has lowered considerably and most car companies are no longer making manual cars—but Aston Martin isn’t letting go. They understand motoring enthusiasts because that’s who their employees are—enthusiasts. The 2017 Vantage S has a V12 engine and a manual gearbox. Aston Martin likely wouldn’t have survived without Ford. Because of the Ford Motor Company, to this day Aston Martin has the capital to focus on refinement and technology while keeping their heritage alive. One could say that Aston Martin's legacy rests on the Ford Motor Company. I have always been inspired by people who are passionate; it has never mattered to me what they are passionate about—if I can hear it in their voice, I am interested in listening. Aston Martin embodies that as a company. Their precise slogan is “Power, Beauty, and Soul,” and they fulfill it. I will always be interested in what they are creating—because they embody passion, understand the satisfaction of quality craftsmanship, and create stunning works of art.
Aston Martin rebuilds a Toyota (Scion) iQ, highlighting craftsmanship abilities.
Only 1,000 Cygnets were built. It was produced under the Aston Martin badge to keep the total company emissions down so they could continue to produce their high-end models under E.U. regulations.
References:
Henry Ford Quote Loveys, Richard. "Aston Martin." Shire Publications, Oxford, UK. 2015. Print. |
AuthorLiberty White Archives
November 2017
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