Dad was well aware that his seventeen-year-old son was certifiably car-crazy long before I turned seventeen in the spring of 1970. Fortunately, the question was not whether I would have wheels of my own, but exactly what that second car in our Morristown, New Jersey driveway would be.
Naturally, it would be a previously-owned model, as Dad wasn’t driving a new car at the time, either. The first used car that really caught my eye was a maroon ’65 Comet two-door sedan on the corner lot of a dealer on the corner of Morris Street and Martin Luther King Drive. After all these years, I’m not sure what first attracted me to the car. Perhaps it was its square-rigged styling combined with its relatively manageable dimensions. I had no desire to drive anything with more than two doors, so its body style fit the bill as well.
The ’65 Comet 202 two-door sedan. Source: oldcarbrochures.com
The Comet (at least that one) was not to be, however. Dad and I somehow found ourselves at Denville, New Jersey’s Reinertsen Motors, located on Route 53 not too far from our previous home in Morris Plains. In the spring of 1970, Reinertsen, who held an English Ford franchise, was then selling out of its last few Cortinas. Finding that their best deal on a new Cortina was out of our price range, we perused their small used-car lot. Fifty-some years on, I don’t recall what else was parked there, but I fixated on a low-mileage 1966 Mercury Comet Caliente convertible. It’s hard to imagine any Reinertsen customer trading in a Comet for a Cortina, especially before the first energy crisis, but in any event, the convertible caught my eye and the rest, as they say, is history.
An exact match, except that my dash was blue, not black. Source: www.classiccars.com
I remember hearing Dad and Kjell, the salesman, trading Scandinavian stories while I repeatedly circled the Comet, conducting a detailed inspection both inside and out and imagining what it might be like to drive. Finally, the deal was done. The only hiccup was that they somehow ignored my father’s preference to finance the four-year-old convertible and instead wrote it up as a straight cash sale. No matter, the paperwork was completed and I was now ready to drive away in my first car.
It’s probably a good thing that my first car wasn’t a Cyclone. Source: www.classiccars.com
As other CC authors have noted, nothing is quite like the overwhelming feeling of freedom and personal mobility when you take the wheel of your own car for the first time. Of course, I had to lower the power convertible top for the drive back to Morristown (briefly interrupted by a stop at a local gas station, as the Comet’s fuel gauge showed one-quarter full as I drove off the lot). I’m sure I was grinning from ear to ear as I settled into the bucket seat, shifted the Cruise-o-Matic into Drive, and listened to the small-block Ford’s exhaust note as I motored towards home.
At the time, I didn’t know how to drive a stick-shift. Source: www.classiccars.com
And what of Reinertsen Motors? They picked up a SAAB franchise in 1970, and remained loyal to the Swedish brand even after GM’s 2008 euthanasia. After a few years as a used-car dealer, the location gained a new name and a FIAT franchise in 2012. Today, it’s no longer a car dealership.
Not to put too fine a point on it, an important new life-stage had begun. The Comet became my daily driver during the rest of my junior year at high school and through graduation the next summer. In the fall of 1971, it would carry me (and a car-full of my worldly goods) across the country to 5353 West Third Street in Los Angeles, as I entered Art Center College of Design to begin my industrial design education.
A couple of decades before my arrival. Source: https://archives.artcenter.edu
That sort of cross-country journey would make a good subject for a near-future COAL, don’t you think?
You have me thinking back to my first car, which was a boring baby blue 73 Mercury Montego MX Villager wagon, complete with yacht plank sides!
No the second car was freedom for me! My dad, having realized that the ole Merc had been rode hard and put away wet too many times was on the hunt behind my back.
One evening i came home from work, I was 17, and there was a man in a 3 year old 1977 Cutlass Supreme Brougham taking out front with dad.
I walked over to be cordial, and was promptly handed the keys to this oasis in the desert!
Dad told me to drive it around the block and come back!
It was so nice-Regency type seats, tilt wheel, cruise control, power windows, a STEREO!! Ok, what’s the idea?
I pulled back up to where they were standing, and reluctantly got out.
Dad told me not “to worry about those miles. These are solid cars.” Wait, what? 30,000 or maybe 40,000? Dad we can’t afford this anyway. Nope, we can, with its 98564 reading! He was a salesman and traded cars every three years. But the dealers went only as high as $1300 trade value. My dad said we will give you $1750 if we can make two payments! Sign deal delivery!! This was very special because my dad, only the year before in 1979 had lost everything due to his business collapsing.
He figured since mom didn’t drive, we needed one nice car we could share. And that’s what we did until he could get back on his feet. That car took us all over for 31/2 years, trouble free.
We finally decided to pool our resources (a was well on his way to recovery) and buy a 65 Thunderbird to restore. But that’s another day
did you ever go to the Denville Shack? it proudly proclaimed that it was the “Home of “Pizza ala Mode”. it was more or less at the entrance of Rainbow Lakes.
Memory triggers are a type of narcotic; one can make long ago sensations come alive, if only for a brief moment. For some reason many humans, blessed with a trove of good memories, find treasure in re-experiencing fragments of those long ago moments.
Some triggers may be simple weather conditions such as an unusually warm late winter day when the sun is melting those dirty snow plow piles and I dare to put down the top of my first car (that ’53 yellow Chrysler convertible of my first COAL) and feel the sun, but still cool air, as the car cruises the neighborhood with a friend or two along for company.
Aromas are strong memory triggers; in my case, aroma triggers from that COAL #1 are:
Mildew – The Chrysler leaked rain and snow between the convertible top and the windows and soaked the carpet padding – ergo mildew,
Brake Fluid – The top motor did not work so I drained the top mechanism so it would work by hand spilling much of the fluid into the trunk, and
Hamburger Grease – Being a triple-nickle-burger cook during high school years had that very identifiable aroma following me wherever I went, not unlike the Peanuts cartoon character Pig-Pen.
Of course these aromas are not usually considered “Good” smells, but they were mine-all-mine back then.
This ’66 Comet Caliente convertible is much nicer than my first car, and also a lot nicer than a certain dark blue ’61 Comet 4 door stick 6 that was my COAL #3.
Thank you for this post.
Referenced COALs:
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/coal-1953-chrysler-windsor-convertible-love-at-first-sight/
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/coal-1961-comet-not-nearly-as-bad-as-i-expected/
Pig-Pen:
What a GREAT COAL entry!!! And lucky you to have a Dad who would buy you a convertible. Mine would never have considered such foolishness.
A great first car ! .
Good storytelling here as well .
-Nate
That must have been a trip across the country with all your worldly possessions, a convertible and an exciting new destination and life stage at the other end. Certainly some of the most important trips I took in my life with the farthest reaching implications was when I loaded up my vehicles for the years at university.
Hard to think of anything I do now that will ever replicate the feeling. I look forward to more.
I love how this COAL is unfolding 🙂
“Caliente” may have been a bit of an optimistic label for such a staid vehicle. I think that’s what you’re getting at with your comment about its “square-rigged styling”. Holy cow…that instrument panel looks like something lifted from a tv/radio/washing machine/range of the day. So minimal and symmetrical.
And yeah, my dad buying me a convertible as my first car?
Uh….nope.
MLK Ave. (formerly Evergreen Ave.) & Morris St. don’t intersect. I’m thinking you mean MLK & Spring St. There’s a church and an older commercial building on that corner, but a little farther down Spring is a place which looks as if it could have been a used car lot in 1970. Is this it?
I knew a couple of people with 66-67 Fairlanes, and would have been happy with one for a first car, especially a convertible. It was only the luck of the draw that I ended up with the plus size Galaxie. I liked these Comets as well!
Interesting to learn a bit more about Reinertsen. We bought my wife’s Saab 9-5 there 25 years ago, and continued to use their service department even after they reinvented themselves as Fiat of Morris County.
The building now appears to be some sort of health & wellness center. For maintenance these days, we’re fortunate enough to have an independent Saab specialist mechanic whose shop is walking distance from our home.