The Ford Model-T

Ubiquitous

Alana Sutherland s3108081

It used to be the object of my complete embarrassment, a car as old as time (or so I thought), and an engine that sung so loud it could be heard across town. Of course I only felt this embarrassment when in public, at home it was somewhat different. I would lift the plastic sheet protecting the car just enough for me to climb through, awkwardly throwing myself in over the doors which had no windows. The smell of antiquity and leather aroused such a sense of curiosity and adventure within me. And the thought of being caught in my Fathers prized possession was enough to tempt me to continue doing it.

As time passed, I begun to appreciate its beauty and workmanship, and I came to understand (much to my Fathers delight) it’s meaning in a deeper sense. Cars are quite a significant part of my Father and brother’s life, and their interest in unique cars and their restoration has compelled me to uncover the importance of a car like the Model-T.

The year was 1908, and America was headed for a crucial change, socially and particularly economically. The Model-T nurtured a growing population in need of work, through its revolutionary use of the assembly line instead of hand crafted production. Workers were paid well; they were happy and therefore efficient, which meant a car could be completed in 98 minutes. Large amounts of inexpensive automobiles were being produced, and the Model-T Ford was well on its way to being the most affordable automobile for its time. Working middle class Americans were able to enjoy the luxury and freedom an automobile brought to their everyday lives, a pleasure that was usually reserved for the well to do.

The production of the Model-T provided growth for the fuel and rubber industries, and expanded rural America into prosperous cities. It symbolised the inclusion of all classes, and spoke of attainability and affordability, not power and ignorance. The particular car that my father now owns carries with it the same language and story as it did almost a century ago, though it gets lost in the crowd and too many fail to recognise its worth. Its design was magical, the human touch needed at every stage of its boisterous roar into life. It was the human interaction that forged the bond between automobile and owner, a few broken arms the evidence of a stubborn crank handle used to start the engine.

What was to be my childhood sanctuary arrived here in Australia in 1923. The chassis was born in Canada and shipped over to continue its transformation in Melbourne at Bonhiem Bodyworks. The entire body was assembled with as much precision as the very first in 1908. Owned by my Grandpa who lived in outback New South Wales, the car suffered a harsh life, the unforgiving sun and mischievous vermin didn’t care much for its condition. Years passed and the Model-T grew weary from its tortured interior and faded paint. When my Father was old enough, he and his Father began to restore the car to its former glory, a restoration so meticulous that one would find it hard to pick it from an original. The car was handed down to my Father in 1984, perfect timing as this was the car my parents were to escape in after getting married.

My Father possessed a whole shed of old classic cars, most of them Fords, and although he didn’t communicate many of his passions, I knew he felt strongly about his cars and took great pride in them. When it came to my Grandpa’s story he was even less ready to indulge me in his memoirs. To him it represented a time of wealth and change, namely within his own family. When my Father was in his early teens his parents separated, and two of his siblings lived with his father, while he and his sister were raised by his Mother. Having a project like the T-Models restoration gave my Father a chance to bond with his own Father, strangely enough the two of us have followed the same fate. Owning a collectable car myself has allowed for something new to flourish in our relationship, and I imagine this sort of connection is very habitual. It’s comforting to think the T-Model has made such an impact on my families life

Throughout my childhood the car would be taken to car club meets for everyone to idle over, maybe even envy, but for most who were there it was a chance to escape and ponder over something so intrinsic in our everyday lives. I would feel special knowing that I was going home in such a respected piece of history, and I felt for those who hadn’t yet experienced the sheer thrill of riding in such a creation.

The T-Model (as I prefer to call it) reminds me of happier days, when all that mattered was where I was going next and what new game I would play with my brother. The car became a superb hiding place during hide and seek, and even a place to practice our imaginary driving. Surreal weekends would be spent dressing up in Edwardian costume and running about the grounds of dreamy mansions, eating the most fabulous food and guzzling down the soft drink that I was so rarely allowed to have. And I believed the T-Model was our ticket to occasions such as these, I considered myself lucky that I was able to enjoy time spent with my family as not all my friends had exposure to activities outside the home.

That same car now rests in a run down shed out the back of a large property, and hasn’t seen the light of day for a few years, due to the fact that my brother and I grew up and left home. There was no longer the time or the energy to indulge in carefree days, and amongst all the excitement of leaving home I forgot to acknowledge my childhood gifts and the opportunities I had been given. It wasn’t until I was faced with this historical exploration that I began to remember the minor details that I had so readily forgotten. It’s comforting to think the T-Model has made such an impact on my families life.

Thankfully the Model-T is about to be cleansed of all the junk which is currently stored on its back seat, to be given pride of place in a car showroom in my hometown. I just hope that between my Brother and I we can come to some sort of compromise when deciding who gets the car, as the Model-T must continue to tell its story and I would like to be there when that happens.