MAZDA

MAZDA

The year was 1965. I had been co-oping in engineering at the University of Cincinnati and instead of going back to school for the summer session of my sophomore year, I decided to get a job and go to night school. I had a steady girlfriend who I was getting serious about and I had saved some money because I had a great co-op job. I needed a car.

My dad went with me to find one at Rocky Rockenfield's car lot on north Vine Street in the Carthage area of Cincinnati. He had an acquaintance who worked there. We just asked the salesman what he would suggest for me. He picked out a 1963 Corvair Mazda coupe. It was bright red with black interior. It had a four speed manual transmission with floor shifter. I fell in love with it immediately. I had only driven a manual transmission once or twice. Test driving it was probably funnier than I thought it was at the time.

I have a few vivid memories about that car. The first week I had it, I drove it to a softball game I had down near the Ohio River. In the middle of a busy intersection, the throttle went to full open with no power to the wheels. I sat there with the engine racing and not going anywhere. Thank God, I was able to figure out the problem and put a temporary fix on it. I never really had an engine problem with it the whole time I owned it.

One Friday night, before I was married and still living at home, I headed for a night club about nine or so. I got to the club and discovered I had left without much money. It was only a half hour trip and the night was young so I went back to the house to reload. On the way home, I remember going over a bump in the road and all of a sudden, there was a terrible screeching noise coming from the rear of my car and the stick shift fell part way through the floor. I had had a few to drink already and I was pretty close to home so I left it where I stopped - walked home and borrowed my parents car and went back to the club and partied until closing. It was too dark to figure out what was wrong with my car and drinking was more important at the time. The next morning I remember calling the Chevrolet dealer and asking him to tow it in and fix it. When they asked me what was wrong, I just said that "it broke." It turns out that two bolts had sheared that hold the motor in place. The cost was about $5 plus the $25 for the tow.

The next summer I got married and soon left for overseas. My wife, Suzanne, didn't have a drivers license but now had the car to drive. She and her friend, Joanne, worked in downtown Cincinnati at AAA Worldwide travel. Joanne had a drivers license but no car and she had never driven a car with a standard transmission. Suzanne got a learners permit and off they went every day. Suzanne taught herself to drive in that car. When I got home, she asked me what the number four was for on the shifter. I think that car went a year without going into fourth gear. I received a photo of Suzanne taken in the winter of 1967 when she was very pregnant. The photo was at Eden Park lake and in the background was my Corvair --- with a dent in the front quarter panel.

I lent the car to a friend one night in the Fall of 1967 at Fort Campbell after I returned from Vietnam. I couldn't keep the car on base because I didn't have insurance. Well, this guy gets in a wreck. He puts a new dent in it right near the one Suzanne put in it. He hadn't done anything wrong but the law said if you don't have insurance, you are at fault. His family had money and his dad had it fixed - both dents.

Michelle, was born in November of 1968. By that time the Mazda had seen better days. The floor board was rotting away. I had riveted a piece of metal to reinforce and cover up the holes in it to no avail. I'll never forget how embarrassed I was when we brought Shelley home from the hospital and cold air was rushing in on Suzanne and that little baby. I traded it the next week.


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