Eulogies and Legacies

Last Sunday Nell was in her first judged, pay-to-enter car show.  She didn't win anything, but the judges were impressed with the fog lights!

The house behind just happens to be where L. Frank Baum wrote some of "The Wizard of Oz"!

 Here is a close up of the fog lights on the car.  I wrote about these in an old blog entry, but only installed them recently.  I really like the way they blend in, and how only seasoned t-bird folks even notice them!

This pic was taken at a cruise night yesterday evening.

Powering the foglights and the electric fan requires long runs of heavy gauge wire from under the dash to the front of the car, and heavy duty switches to control the current they draw.  I went ahead and ran the heavy wires and installed the switches, but I decided to also install a set of relays in the front of the engine compartment to switch the current.  These relays connect directly to the main junction from the alternator, which has the highest voltage in the car when the engine is running.  This is the best place to connect a high-current accessory.  I also installed relays for the high and low beam headlights.  These four things will regularly draw the highest current when the car is running.  The horn, window & seat motors also draw a lot of current, but they already use relays.

Using relays for the head & fog lights and the fan will make the switches more reliable.  Since they won't have to switch as much current, the contacts will stay cleaner and last longer.  The shorter wire run from the alternator will also give them a little more power.

I put the relays in an old voltage regulator box that I gutted.  It took a few evenings for me to cut holes in the backing plate to accommodate the relay sockets, and then dress the wires appropriately.  I set up this relay box so that I can disconnect it if necessary, and put the wiring back "the old way".  Here are some shots of the relay box with the cover off.

The device above the relays is a 30A circuit breaker.

 I like the way the engine compartment looks clean and stock when the cover is on the relay box.

 I'm still missing the windshield washer bag and plumbing.  I put the washer nozzles in back in the cowl, but I just realized recently that I installed a hard brakeline right in front of the place where the washer footpump goes in the firewall.  I'm not going to change it any time soon, so I may not have washers for a while. 
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I'm still amazed that this car runs and drives, let alone that I can take it to cruise nights and car shows!  What an amazing thing!

My Dad loved car shows.  He couldn't really repair a car, let alone restore one, but he loved them just the same.  As the oldest of his siblings, he was the first in his family to get a car... a 1929 Packard that he bought from a quarry that was using it to haul sand!  

He never restored it, but he did drive it, and gave it to his brother after it broke.  His brother eventually DID restore it, and made it into a national show winner!

While Dad was delighted that his old car had become so beautiful and acquired a certain renown, I think that he kind of resented his brother for doing something with it that he couldn't do himself.  Both of his brothers caught the "old car bug" from Dad, and subsequently restored cars... Packards and Pierce Arrows... but Dad never did.  He had another Packard briefly when I was a kid, but he didn't keep it.

Working on this t-bird has given me some insight into this.  Restoring a car takes more than just  money, it was a mindset and a tenacity, and a willingness to persevere through the inevitable setbacks.  I really don't think my Dad had the patience to do this, and I think he was very conscious of that fact.  I suspect that he knew his limitations, and avoided situations that exposed them.  That may be why he didn't play a very active role with me in restoring the t-bird.  It makes me wonder if I should have been more encouraging to him.  Just the same, I'm grateful that he decided to pay for the paint, and that we got to ride in it together.

Last Saturday I went to a church Men's Retreat.  My goal was to spend some time alone on the mountain to write Dad's eulogy.  I was able to pound out a rough draft, but I found it increasingly hard to say anything nice about Dad.  I found that my heart was full of bitterness for this man who always seemed to be on the edges of my life.  I understand his limitations and his brokenness, but that doesn't change my need for a father who was seldom there, or was too self-conscious to offer me much encouragement himself.

At this point I recognize my own need for therapy, prayer, and healing.  I will begin seeing a counselor next week.  I will resume journaling in more private media.  I will invite God back into those broken, dark places.  Right now, however, I continue to feel unsettled.

Dad's first memorial service is 25 May.  I hope I can write a better eulogy by then!