These Are The Coolest Cars You Actually Got To Ride In As Kids

I wrote this on Oppo years ago, but since my dad is currently in ICU fighting for life, I think it’s ok to repost again in his honor. Hang in there Pops....

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My parents divorced when I was about four. Post-divorce, dad went through cars a lot faster than mom, and his were arguably more interesting and provided an array of “first” car experiences.

Most exotic of this era were a couple of Porsche 914s: an orange 4cyl and a final year (1976) brown 914-6. My memories of the cars are limited and I don’t really remember the orange at all. I can picture the Brown, primarily by its color (Brown was “the” car color of the 70’s). First experiences in the 914: A 2 seater (cars came without back seats?), mid-engine (why did they put it there?), and a car that was unusual and exotic for the time, but kind of ugly too? I believe it may have had a wooden steering wheel (Nardi?) which seemed novel. First experience for “spirited” passenger rides: I remember dad letting loose flying down Ward Parkway in Kansas City toward Meyer Circle (a roundabout that invites tests of lateral g’s and grip; infamous enough that one homeowner on the circle, tired of having cars spin out into their front yard at 1 a.m., erected a stacked stone retaining wall a couple of feet high. I guess some people go to town hall meetings and others just take matters into their own hands).

The 914 seemed to have no trouble negotiating the curves, tires screaming on the asphalt, two young brothers around 5 and 8 years old in the front seat thrown sideways against the door like a Hoffmeister Rotor, whooping and hollering, “faster, faster!” (Ok, maybe not me so much. I mean, it was a little scary, uncertain…and unbuckled). Usually the 914 was good for a couple circumnavigations around the circle before dad decided not to press his luck too far. (what traversing the circle felt like in the 914 to a 5 year old)

Though the physics demo was fun, for a long time I harbored a secret grudge that the only Porsche that has ever been in our family (to date) was the ugliest, lowest power one (with a VW engine, no less). “Why couldn’t you have had a real Porsche?” I silently lamented over the years. In recent years, I’ve been noticing 914s are crossing online auction sites for big money. This 914-6, in particular, almost hit six figures.

I was astounded and had to send the post-auction link to my dad, putting in the body of the message, “Too bad yours wasn’t a six! (not remembering the details of his car). He replied, “It was a 6.” The next time we were talking on the phone, I asked him to regale me again with the story of his 914 ownership (including the forgotten orange one) and how he sold it. He told me that after enjoying the 914-6 for a few years he was ready to move on. He put a classified ad in the KC paper and two people (who he actually already knew) immediately called him to say they were hotly interested. This surprised me the first time I heard the tale, thinking used 914’s weren’t that loved or desirable. How wrong I was. As dad tells it, “I sold it for what I paid for it and could have had a bidding war, but the 2 buyers responding first (from the KC Star classified ad) were both friends and I said first one here with a check gets it. It sold that afternoon.”

Dad continued to have pretty decent autos over the next several years. He really liked his yellow 1980 (or ’81) Buick Electra Park Avenue. Unfortunately, pics don’t represent how luxurious that car felt. I remember the butterscotch leather interior, power windows and locks (up, down, up, down – this was our entertainment kids), dad in his business suits, a carton of Carlton cigarettes a near permanent fixture on the front bench seat (thankfully he quit smoking in the 80's), and the tasteful looking (but probably fake) wood grain throughout.

The Park Ave had a big sunroof (first sunroof) and dad let us stand up in the front seat, poking our heads and hands into the sky while he drove through the neighborhood. On some occasions, I would sit on his lap or scoot over to the driver’s side while he drove around Kansas City, holding the steering wheel for early driving lesson practice. “Can I steer?” was a frequent plea from my brother and I, and he often obliged us. I’m amazed then and now how much latitude he let us have with the wheel. Unsafe? Of course, but it was good early instruction in lane maintenance, staying away from curbs and cars, and he was always there to take the wheel if our aim was errant.

I hope the key takeaway here is if you have a cool car make sure to share it with others, especially kids....

I remember most of the rides I got in cool cars:

My grandparents neighbors had a kit Cobra, that one probably was the car I most wanted after that drive.

Our old neighbors mid 70s Vette

A sandrail out at glamis dunes when we were just driving thru

When I was 9 years old (1992) I went to play golf with my dad and in the parking lot was a bright red Dodge Viper. Turns out there was an NFL player that was teeing off in front of us and invited my dad and I to golf with him. After the round he asked my dad if he could drive me home in the Viper. Ever since that day I have dreamed about having a first gen Viper. The Player was Leroy Hoard, running back for the Browns at the time. We played 9 holes with him and Clay Matthews. To this day my lucky number is 33 which was Leroy’s number while in Cleveland. I have bid on a few Vipers but have not pulled the trigger yet.

One of our neighbors in the very middle-working class subdivision we lived in during the 80's had a Ferrari 308 that he’d take me for rides in when I was about 8 years old. My older sister and his daughter were best friends so we knew them pretty well but could never figure out how he could afford such a nice car by owning a hole in the wall pizza joint. Turns out he was a bookie who also ran coke. So, I got to ride in a Ferrari with a drug trafficker as a child and my parents never worried about it.

Would have been around 1977. My dad took me to a local stock car track (Westgate Speedway, now Peterborough Speedway) and through some business connections, he knew the track manager and by default some guy who raced a stock car there regularly. We went to say hi to the guys in the pit after the races and the driver offered to take me for a lap in what would have been an early-to-mid 1970’s Camaro, late model at the time, stock car. I don’t really know how fast he went but it’s a 1/3 mile, banked oval track so the cars can go. Obviously there’s no passenger seat so I just slid around on the aluminum interior, hanging onto whatever cage bar I could. I was having so much fun I think we ended up doing 3, maybe even 4 laps before going back to the pit. No way anyone is going to be allowed to do that today with insurance and liability issues. Still remember that ride today. Smiled for days after.

My stepfather, one of the blandest, most uncool guys I’ve ever met, had an absolutely rad 70-something C3 Corvette with t-tops and big, chrome sidepipes. It smelled like mouse nests and I loved it. He dropped me off to elementary school with it a few times and I felt awesome melting my shoes getting out of that thing.

Countach. There was a repair shop just around the corner from my house. We knew the owner, he’d fix our bicycle tires for free a lot of times. Somehow he’d have crazy exotics, and when he did, my sister and I would go visit to have a look. And he’d give us a ride around the block. We were like 8 and 6 years old. Got to ride in things like 308, Fiat Dino, Porsche 930. Countach definitely had the most impact as a little kid. Which is a bit of shame now, that neither my sister nor I were capable of appreciating Lancia Stratos just as much (or more).

Our family car growing up was a 1930 Ford Model A pickup that Dad bought and restored before any of us were born. At the time, Dad took the bus to work and Mom piled us three kids in the A to run errands. (Yes, the 70s were a different time for kid safety in cars). Later, Mom and Dad were able to afford a used AMC Hornet Sportabout wagon, and the A became more of a hobby car. Dad bought a bench seat to put in the back of the A with lap belts. So many fond memories of that truck.

When I was around 14 or 15 I went to a pool hall with some older kids (as one did in the 80's) and this guy Stefan, a marine, had a Grand National I got to ride in. My world of Tercel’s and Gremlin’s was turned upside down.

When I was 8 or 9 years old, my father and I were in South Beach Miami and one of his friends was a chef at some hot new restaurant on Collin’s AVE. He had a black 964 Targa parked out front that I was gawking over. He came outside and asked me if I wanted a ride in it. Of course I said “YES”! It felt like we were Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett whipping around the street of Miami in their 911 3.6 Turbo. It was the first of many cool cars I was able to experience in my life and will forever stick with me.

Shelby GT350 (don’t know the year). Was my uncle’s car. He was paralyzed from the waist down due to a spinal injury, so he built a contraption of levers and controls so he could operate the pedals (all three!) with his right hand. Took it to the drag strip every so often, as I remember. I got to ride in it once. To this day, it’s the fastest car I’ve ever ridden in.

He died a few years after that. My grandparents wouldn’t talk about it. As far as I know no one in the family knows what happened to that car...

I should point out for the youngsters that I’m not talking about the modern Mustang trim package, I’m talking about the late ‘60s race cars built by Carroll Shelby. The story took place in the ‘80s.

Pops had a ‘70 Challenger TA, ‘66 Coupe DeVille, and ‘54 Willy’s CJ3B when I was just a wee lad. Apparently, 4 year old me would unintentionally ‘snitch’ on him about racing in the Challenger to mom. I thought I was bragging about our victories. “Mommy! We beat a Mustang and a Chevelle on the way to Grandma’s house!”

Datsun 280ZX (wasn’t yet rebranded fully to Nissan) - had a relative with a BRAND NEW ONE in 1983 - Inline Turbo 6 as I recall (feel free to correct me)

That noise on the engine of the Inline 6 and the voice alerts “Lights are On”, “Key is in the Ignition” - all a bit over the top but utterly cool and the T-Bar roof!

A white Lamborghini Jalpa owned by a Ford exec outside of Detroit when I was about 13 in the early ‘90s. My dad did some contracting work for him, saw the car, and asked if I could get a quick ride someday. We blasted down M-14 and back, and it was 20 minutes of bliss.

Coolest car? It’s a tie between a Jensen Interceptor and a Bricklin SV1.