This 2006 Ford Focus turned out to play an important role in my relationship with my father. I’ve written before about how my dad always needed to be in control and how we never really were able to relate to each other just as men.
There was one time when he did it, and it was through seeking my advice about whether to buy what turned out to be his last car.
Dad was a Ford man. He owned eight Fords in his lifetime, straying to GM and AMC in the 1970s and early 80s when Ford’s quality went into the toilet. As soon as quality was Job 1 at Ford again, he came right back home to the blue oval. One of his latter-day Fords was a big Windstar minivan, which he was driving in 2006 when his 50 years of smoking caught up with him. Cancer.
I don’t know whether my parents were old-fashioned or my dad was too controlling — probably some combination of the two — but my mother didn’t drive. It wasn’t for lack of trying. She had secured a driver’s license some twenty years before, but Dad insisted he should still drive her everywhere she needed to go. Mom got him to let her drive a few times, but he was so critical of her driving that she gave up.
Dad’s mortality now staring him in the face, he suddenly insisted, and urgently, that Mom begin driving. They went out in the Windstar a couple times but never made it far. Mom judged that beast “way too big” and insisted she would never pilot it again.
Dad immediately traded it on a much smaller car: this 2006 Ford Focus.
This Focus happened to be in top SES trim, with power everything, a sunroof, and leather seats. Who knew you could get a Focus with leather? Dad was such a stoic that he was loath to admit when things pleased him. But I think he really liked driving this little car. It might have been the one he enjoyed most in his life.
Dad kept taking Mom out to drive but couldn’t stop criticizing her driving. One day she reached her limit and declared she was through.
Dad was retired and didn’t drive much, except on errands and occasional trips to Indianapolis for appointments at the VA hospital. In 2012, I was surprised when he told me he thought it was time to buy a new car. “This Focus is getting old,” he said. “I’d hate to have it strand me halfway to Indianapolis one day.” His little car had rolled to only about 70,000 miles. I told him that because he’d maintained it well, it had at least 100,000 good miles left in it. He wasn’t buying it.
My Toyota Matrix XRS was getting way up there in miles. It would make a perfect second car, one my sons could drive when they needed it. I offered to buy his car from him when he bought his new one.
Just as 2013 began Dad found the car he thought he wanted, a 2012 Ford Focus. I waited patiently at the dealer while he and Mom test drove it, in case it was “the one” and we’d complete the deal on his old Focus.
When he came back from the drive he said it had good room, power, and handling. He wished it were a hatchback rather than a sedan. He also thought the car had high mileage for its age.
Then he looked straight at me and asked: “Do you think I should buy this?”
The wavering tone of his voice, the unsure look in his eye, and the very question itself all startled me. I noticed that he was fidgeting a little and sitting crooked in the chair. He had always seemed so sure about everything.
He had never asked my opinion about a personal matter before.
He needed to be pushed off the fence, and it was clear that my word was going to do it. “Do you like the car?” I asked. “I mean, can you see you and Mom being comfortable and happy in it as you drive around town and on your trips downstate?” He didn’t hesitate in saying yes, but he still worried about the car’s mileage. “Oh Dad,” I assured him, “you put 5,000 miles a year on your cars, tops. That’s far less than most people. In a couple years the car will be at the right number of miles for its age. You’ll get lots of years out of it. And I’ve checked online: this car is priced fairly. If you negotiate a little, you should get it at a very good price. There’s no reason to hesitate.”
Dad loved a bargain. He stopped fidgeting and sat up straight. He bought the car.
Then I drove home in his old car. My new car.
Most of the miles I put on this car involved driving to work and getting groceries. It did that stuff just fine. Its wayback wasn’t as roomy or as easy to access as the one in my Matrix, and I never liked having to fold the seat bottom up to fold the seat back down, but I could still carry large items back there when I needed to.
This car was a tight handler, and its two-liter four was quick. That made the car entertaining to drive. I really enjoyed twisty back highways in the Focus, as it hugged the curves so well.
The Focus also took my sons and me on vacations. Our first came shortly after I bought it in 2013: a week exploring Route 66. We started in Joliet, Illinois and wrapped up in Oklahoma near the Texas border, which was as far as we could get before our time ran out.
Route 66 was everything I’d hoped it would be. We stopped at every roadside attraction, every old gas station, every quirky museum we could find. My sons indulged my need to photograph everything while they played their handheld games in the back seat. We stayed in old motor courts when we could find them. Here’s the Focus in Cuba, Missouri, parked in front of our cabin at the famous Wagon Wheel Motel.
I think my sons’ favorite stop was at a place called Pops, in the middle of nowhere in Oklahoma. It’s a gas station with a diner and an enormous selection of bottled sodas. We had cheeseburgers at the diner, and my younger son slowly and carefully selected a number of sodas to bring with us for the rest of the trip.
But Route 66 turned out to be my sons’ least favorite of our Spring Break trips. Too much sitting in the car, not enough action, they tell me. That’s fair — I brought them along to see things that mattered to me. On this trip we learned that my love of the old road was not hereditary.
Speaking of old roads, its nimble handling and small size made the Focus a wonderful car for my old-road hobby. Here it is on an abandoned brick segment of US 40 near Marshall, Illinois.
And here it is on an abandoned segment of the old Dixie Highway near Martinsville, Indiana. The Focus was so easy to get in and out of any tight situation. It was the best road-trip car I’ve owned.
Unfortunately, Dad’s instincts were right about this car. For two full years it was in the shop every other month. I dumped probably $3,000 into keeping it running during that time. Dad felt terrible that he had foisted these problems onto me. Fortunately, the automotive gods eventually smiled down on the Focus, and its troubles abated.
Meanwhile, the life I’d built for me and my sons was starting to change. In 2015, when my older son went off to college it was just me and my younger son at home. When it came time for him to learn to drive, I taught him in the Focus. Once I had him drive us to visit his brother at Purdue, about an hour to our northwest.
In the years after my divorce, I chose to focus entirely on my sons, our home, and my career. I believed my sons would benefit from me keeping them at the center of my attention. I did not date for many years. Fortunately, I’m comfortable in my own skin and liked being alone at home when my sons were with their mom.
But in 2013, my older son was past the midway point in his high-school career. I decided the time was right for me to date and see if I could find a partner for the rest of my life. I wasn’t going to rush, and except for letting the boys know I was doing it, I was going to keep my dating life separate from my home life with them. I made a profile on one of the online dating sites. I did not enjoy the experience at all, and after a while canceled my subscription and decided I would be okay continuing to be single and live alone. Just a couple weeks before my subscription expired, I was matched to Margaret. We hit it off.
An incident in the Focus showed me that I could invest in a relationship with Margaret and that it would likely be good for the long haul.
While driving her home from a date one night in early 2015, the alternator burned out. We were on the big Interstate beltway around Indianapolis going 65 miles per hour when the car started losing power. I explained what I thought was happening and said I hoped to have enough power to take the next exit and get off the highway. She said little as the car became weaker and weaker. I did make it to the exit ramp, but had to pop the car into neutral and coast it off.
Sitting dead in the water at the bottom of the ramp, she said quietly, “How would you like to handle this?”
I cannot tell you how welcome that question was. Here was Margaret, giving me space to figure things out. I was very much not used to this in my relationships.
“I’m going to call for a tow. You and I are going to walk to that McDonald’s right there and have some French fries while we wait. I’ll call my brother to pick us up and take us home.”
“That sounds like a terrific plan,” she said.
She was the one.
Margaret and I dated for about three years. In 2016, as my youngest was wrapping up high school, we got married. I split time between my home and Margaret’s until after my youngest graduated. Then I sold my house and moved in with Margaret, a practical choice as her youngest (of four) had a couple years of high school left. My sons didn’t move in with us, so we avoided the challenges of blending families. Yet it still wasn’t always easy for the three of Margaret’s kids still at home to accommodate me in their lives and under their roof, as I am quite set in my ways — or for me to figure out this family’s rhythms and patterns. But Margaret and I were committed to making it work.
Meanwhile, Dad had three more bouts with cancer over the years. Chemotherapy cost him some of his cognitive abilities. Advancing macular degeneration increasingly robbed him of his sight. He kept his failing eyesight from us until he crashed his 2012 Focus in 2017.
By this time my parents had moved to Indianapolis to be nearer to my brother and me and to the grandkids. We leaned hard on Dad to see his doctor. When he finally did, the news was devastating. His cancer had spread to his liver and his brain; the tumor there pressed on his optic nerve. The doctor gave him weeks, maybe months.
He hung on through the holidays. We brought him to our house for Christmas. He held court from the couch, telling his stories one more time. He died the day after his 77th birthday in January of 2018.
Above is the only photo I have of his last car, and it’s a great one. It’s from a trip he and I and my sons made to his hometown of Handley, West Virginia, in 2015. You’re looking down the hill toward the Kanawha River from the four-room schoolhouse he attended as a boy.
After the crash, Dad realized his driving days were over and Mom ended up having to drive after all. She always hated his Focus, so she sold it and bought the smallest car she could find, a little Nissan Versa Note. My wife and I took turns helping her relearn how to control and navigate a car. She never became confident behind the wheel, and to the end she resented having to drive. But after Dad passed away, she was at least able to run the normal errands of life.
After Dad died, I traded the blue Matrix on my next daily driver, which I’ll write about soon. Margaret passed her car on to her daughter and started driving my Focus, which had rolled to 150,000 miles. The car was starting to give us regular minor troubles again, and it had developed a number of annoyances from old age. The vent switch had grown stiff. You had to wait for the car to get warm and then wiggle the knob gently until it finally eased over. There was a leak somewhere that left the carpet in the wayback wet every time it rained heavily. I didn’t mind dealing with all of that, but I didn’t feel good about sticking my wife with it.
Then the main belt snapped on a frigid day, stranding us by the side of the road. I had it fixed, but I didn’t want Margaret to be stranded alone someday. As soon as we could, we went car shopping. We bought her a 2017 Kia Soul, which she still has. It’s a fun little car.
Shortly after, I sold my Focus to my younger son at the bargain price of $100. It was great basic transportation for him, letting him drive from his dorm room, to his job, and home to see his old dad. That old Focus did everything three generations of Greys had asked of it. Not a bad legacy for a little silver Ford.
Unfortunately, the Focus served my son just a few short months before someone T-boned him in an intersection. He was uninjured, but the Focus was finished.
Next time, the car I traded the 2003 Toyota Matrix on — a traditional mid-sized sedan.
There is so much here that resonates with me. My own father was a Ford man too, but I don’t think he ever asked my advice on what to buy, so I am glad you got that experience. And your mother’s experience with driving reminds me so much of my mother in law, who only drove reluctantly, and even then in the very smallest thing she could get.
I will confess that the styling of these cars turned me off from the first time I saw them. From everything I have read and heard (not least from you) these were really engaging to drive and there was a lot to like if only I could have gotten past the looks.
Your story also reminds me why I have been leery about modern U.S. cars as they have aged. Even the stoutest ones (like the 93 Crown Victoria I bought from my mother) start to suffer little niggling failures that add up one by one until the car is unfit for anything beyond beaterdom for someone willing to put up with the 20 small things that have failed. That was not my experience with my Asian cars.
The first Focuses are an acquired taste to be sure. But yes, they are a lot of fun to drive.
I had both an ’01 ZX3 Hatch (five-speed) and a ’12 Hatch (five-speed), and hands down the ’01 is the better car…in fact, I still have it.
I’ve written COAL’s about both:
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/coal-2001-ford-focus-focusing-on-the-future/
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/coal-2012-ford-focus-world-car-iv-part-1/
There are a number of similarities for me here, too. My dad was a dyed-in-the-wool Ford man for many years. That loyalty ended with the introduction of the “oval” Taurus/Sable designs of 1996 — my dad just thought they were so ugly that he’d never consider buying or driving one. So for the first time in his life, Dad looked at other makes and models; ultimately choosing a 1996 Honda Accord instead. He wound up never looking back, and bought/leased four different Accords prior to passing away at 87 years old.
Dad had never solicited my advice about car buying or leasing until his very last car; which I believe was a 2008 or 2009 Accord. Out of the blue, he called me at work one day and asked whether or not the monthly lease payment the local Honda dealer quoted was a good deal. It seemed high to me, so I advised Dad that I’d do some digging and would get back to him the next day. My research indicated that the lease payment offer he received was about $100/month higher than what I could get locally. I suggested that he simply tell his salesperson that the lease offer was way too high, and wait for a response (his current Accord was only about 3 years old and still in excellent mechanical and cosmetic shape). The saleswoman called Dad back 2-3 days later and offered a new quote that was $50/month lower than the original offer. I again recommended that he hang tight and advise her that the price was still too high. Dad was worried when he immediately didn’t hear anything back from the dealer, and I suggested that he wait a few more days until the end of the month. Sure as heck, on the last day of the month Dad received a call from the sales manager, with a new offer that was $90 less than the original quote. He asked me whether he should hold out for the last $10. I said something like “look Dad, you’ve already saved over $3000 over the life of the lease ($90/mo X 36 months) — that’s a pretty nice savings”. He brought home the shiny new Accord the next day.
Yeah, it’s easy to stay with Honda once you’ve tried it. My brother has owned nothing but Civics since 1998.
I *wish* my parents were as deliberate as that when it came to cars. Mostly, they’ve just bought whatever attracted them at that time. First, it was a slew of heavily used GM cars, then a Honda, then a Kia, then a Nissan, and a few Hyundais, and a Chrysler. Some of those were good cars: the 1990 Accord (that was my first car), the 2003 Sorento EX 4WD (that Mom rolled), the 2007 Sonata SE V6 (which was stolen just after it was paid off). Others were not: the 2005 Murano SL (that fell apart), the 2012 Sonata Limited (that my sister still drives and that’s a complete POS), the 2010 300 Touring (also a POS).
But I’ll never forget–or forgive–the day my dad *meant* to buy a Toyota Matrix or Pontiac Vibe and came home in a refrigerator-white Dodge Caliber. Whoops.
My dad now drives a very base 2018 or 2019 F-150 XLT Crew Cab RWD. Mom…I bought her a 2022 Mazda CX-5 Carbon Edition as a Mother’s Day gift four years ago, and it’s the first new car she’s ever had. And it seems to be holding up quite well, too.
I really like hearing about you and your father, I was never really able to connect with mine for similar reasons .
Interestingly, my Sweet doesn’t like to drive and always wants me to drive her anywhere she needs to go .
Ford, like most can make a good car when they’re motivated, I’ve had several and none were bad in spite of a few being serious beaters .
I’d always wondered how a Focus would be, this article makes them seem okay .
-Nate
Okay is a good word for the Focus. Entertaining to drive but not faultless.
My in laws are like your parents in that respect. Pa has always liked his big cars, once there were no more RWD Crown Victorias available he finally had to get a FWD. He has a Ford Fusion that he drives everywhere and Ma cannot / will not drive the Fusion. Ma has a little 2005 Focus wagon, I think she drives very little if at all. I can’t remember the last time I saw her drive or heard about it.
I’ve really appreciated our three various Focii over the years, all 5-speeds. I even like the flip up rear seat for freight carrying mode.
That 2006 served your family well, but I think the real star here is Margaret.
You really have leaned hard into the Focus. It’s a car that’s worked really well for you! Yes, the star of my show is definitely Margaret.
Glad to hear things seem to have completely turned around for you (and your family). I believe some of us met Margaret at the Auburn meetup many years ago, I recall she was quite smitten with the Crosley exhibit when I was chatting with both of you.
These Focuses seemed like a more interesting version of Ford as in fairly undiluted from the (European) original, in constrast with some other Fords (Escort, Contour). My mom actually bought a 2001 or 2002 IIRC as her first real new car and enjoyed it for many years until deciding that something with AWD would suit her snow country backwoods hiking lifestyle better. I don’t recall hers having any major issues or even minor ones over the decade or so she had it. Margaret’s Kia Soul seems like a very good successor to your Matrix and Focus string.
Yes, we did meet Margret in Auburn, and it was a pleasure. Very happy for you both.
My 5’10” wife has a major soft spot for very small cars. The first time she saw an original Fiat 500, she swooned.
The Kia is a fun runabout with a lot of space for hauling stuff — not long stuff, but you can definitely stack stuff. It did get a new engine courtesy Kia a year ago, so there’s that.
I don’t like to read too much into a single photo, but the one of your dad does rather reflect his personality as you’ve described it. Wow; his behavior to your mom when she drove makes the extent of his control issues painfully clear. My dad did not go that far; thanks to his intelligence and medical training, he had enough self awareness most of the time to not create that sort of constant tension. It just came out in unfortunate bursts from time to time.
Yes, these were very nimble handlers; as good as it got at the time. My son had one briefly, a red coupe with a stick, and it was an utter hoot to drive.
After Dad died, Mom talked to me a lot trying to work out that relationship. It was a little challenging for me because I had my own relationship with Dad to work out, but I feel by just listening I did her some level of service. She came to see in the last years he was alive how controlling he had been, and how much she had not done in her life because he said no, and she had a lot of regret. That broke my heart.
For some reason, I don’t think I’ve ever driven a Focus of that generation. From the sound and looks of it though, it seems like the perfect daily driver and I can see why it would be a great road trip car for your old roads hobby.
Great photos. And I love your 45 adapter shirt.
It really was a terrific daily. I wish Ford still made a car like that.
I used to wear my 45 adapter shirt to work sometimes, where I was by far the oldest person in the room. The young’uns would ask what the symbol was, and I’d tell them I was in a cult, and this is how cult members recognized each other. 🙂
Jim, this was another terrific, candidly written memoir of the Focus as interweaved with the events of the lives of you and your extended family – and the very relatable dynamics you detail so well, regardless of another’s own firsthand experiences. I’ll just say that I can certainly understand the fondness with which you had written about this car, as I predicted would be the case after having read the end of your last entry. I’m again inspired to start planning my next road trip, and your t-shirt makes me think of all the 45s I usually see for sale at various stores I go to. Thanks for this.
Wait until next week, that one’s a humdinger.
It’s funny, I adored my Matrixes, but in many ways the Focus was the better car.
This article his me on so many levels.
My dad was controlling/manipulative man but some of his friends were the culprit- you know, folks like Ron Ricco, Jack Daniel’s and Captain Morgan.
But there are some real similarities here. First mom tried driving two times- once she hit a telephone pole and the other she backed into a boy on his bicycle (thankfully a broken arm was all the damage- that could have been way worse)
Then there was his car buying. He hated that I knew more about cars than he did. I don’t know why, but it just got to him.
However two events happened that showed me he was a changed man.
In 1978 he was done with his current car (a COAL article coming soon will reveal that car) and announced to me that i would help him pick his new car. He was a GM person and I think that stemmed from his being employed at North American Aviation who was owned by GM. Anyway, the choices were
Chevy Caprice, Pontiac Bonneville, Buick Electra or Oldsmobile Delta 88 diesel!
I immediately took the Oldsmobile off the list, telling him that “those diesel engines were just too new and not proven”; a fact he thanked me for later. The Caprice was my first choice for the F41 and the closeness of the Chevy dealer. But alas we went for a black Buick Electra.
The second experience was much harder- him asking me to take his car keys away.
Dad was 68 and had gone through you haveyou’ve lymphoma cancer surgery and felt that his driving – some 3.5 million miles over his life- was no longer safe. His request was simple- I’d take the keys to his 1985 Camry but leave the car in the parking spot outside their condo.
I learned, by the grace of God, to forgive my dad and his behavior towards me, and was even able to tell him that fact. And in the last 12 years we had a fair relationship.
Your articles, like mine, touch on the human factor portion of vehicles. Thank you
My dad was a teetotaler. I saw him drink one (1) beer in my lifetime. So hard telling where his behavior came from.
A C41 Caprice would have been a sweet ride then.
I worked hard to forgive my father as well. Hearing him tell his life stories really helped me, as it let me understand the forces that shaped him. He had a shitty childhood.
Ah, the ups and downs of life. But how can we appreciate the sweet if we don’t experience the bitter?
Seeing the pic of your 06 Focus at the beginning of the feature brought back memories of the exact same car I bought used many years ago. What fun it was rowing through the gears, zipping around the city and the occasional road trip. Never had a major problem with the car. I’ve driven a number of Focus models from an 08 company car to a 2012 company car and a four door Focus hatch in Europe back in 2007 and again in 2010.
I would have kept the 06 longer but I found another car I really wanted and my hatch went to a young man who lived close by. All the best to you and yours!
I’ve often wondered how much more fun the Focus would have been with the 5 speed.
The challenges of our parents speaks to me all too well.
My maternal grandmother never drove, for reasons I never learned. Sadly living in a small town meant when my maternal grandfather died, she was completely isolated at home. Before my parents could get her to relocate, she abruptly died months later. So that part also hit close to home.
One thing I got to ask – what got your father (presumingly an empty nester and an Escort/Focus type guy) to get the Windstar? Go figure he gets a minivan many years after having that van with no back seats and two sons!
Dad made custom wood furniture as part of his living. He wanted a van to haul lumber in. Mom told him that under no circumstances would she go for a cargo van again.
My father was always supportive of me when around. I was 18 when my parents moved to Northern California in 1972 and I stayed in San Diego through 1977 at SDSU. Only home for Christmas so didn’t see him much although I talked to my mother, on the phone, once a week. Around him in 77-78 before they then moved to their condo in San Diego where I had stayed previously. Then they are back in 81 but in 85 I move to The City so would see him now and then. Divorce came in 1993, I am not privy to the reason, but from then through 2010 I don’t recall seeing him at all. Partially because not local till 2010 when he moved back from Arizona to a place halfway between my house and office. So now I passed by everyday but at this point he is in his 80’s. At that point he was always glad to see me, come over for lunch, drop off his medicines and so forth.
He passed away in 2019 at 93 having undergone brain surgery to remove two benign tumors causing issues because of pressure. In his room he was struggling to breath, reflexes pushed the nurse away who wanted to suction mucous buildup, the surgery left him incoherent as to who was around and I couldn’t break through. I couldn’t handle the struggle anymore and went down to the lobby to sit and he passed while I was down there. Unfortunately my last memory of him was that struggle whereas my sister passed away quietly due to her brain issue.
Glad you got to experience a Focus despite some issues. Too bad it was an automatic as I assume that is what your father brought. They are greatly underappreciated concerning their handling although mine had it’s rear springs changed long ago to lower the rear 1/2-1″ for better response. Needless to say I know you are aware of my 2004 which has passed 208,000 miles and is due for an update here on basic maintenance recently done on it.
My dad was supportive in some key ways: he made engineering school happen, he sent me to Germany on that exchange trip. But day to day man was he ever critical, and it undermined my confidence.
Dad would have preferred the 5 speed but he bought it used in a hurry and took what he could get.
So had a longish post, 30 minutes ago, disappear after hitting post. Well I am not going to re-write that one. Odds that it shows?
Patience, grasshopper, patience. 🙂 I found it, see above.
I had the opposite experience with my mother driving. For my whole life, if my mother was in the car, she was driving. Her mother never drove, so my mother go her licence in 1931 when she turned 16. She ended up driving the family around, as my grandfather was always working and her older brother usually had something more important to do. So my mother was an accomplished driver, but my dad was also. My mother told me much later that it was not my dad’s driving, but when she had her first child she needed to be in control, so she always drove. It did not bother my dad. When my mom stopped driving, due to age, I was nervous about driving her, but at that point she was fine with me driving.
My grandmother (Mom’s mom) was a primary driver as well. Their oldest child had a horrible wreck when he was about 18, though, and my grandfather declared that he would not allow any more of his children to get driver’s licenses while under his roof.
This was another very moving account Jim, and I’m glad you came out of it in a much better place. You did right by your sons, found a new life partner, and were able to make amends to the extent possible with your father.
Your photo of Handley, West Virginia is so evocative. When my wife’s parents were still among the living, we’d make the trip from our home in Virginia to theirs in Indianapolis, with a good portion of the journey in WV, so it brings back memories. (Oftentimes, we’d take US 60 in the eastern part of the state, so we passed right by Handley on the opposite bank of the river.)
WV is such an interesting place – at once gorgeous and ugly. It shaped my dad’s family in concrete ways.
First off, as an Oklahoma resident, I’m glad you got to see Pops. It’s very cool. It’s only about 20 minutes away from me, here in Edmond.
Second, I’m glad you and your father avoided the “gen. 2” Focus. Not that they were bad mechanically; they were just a reskin of the gen. 1. But gosh, did they look hideous.
Third, these stories are touching.
Oh, I did not avoid the gen 2 Focus. Margaret had one while we were dating and it was in our family for a long time, until last summer, actually. Somehow Ford managed to wring out all of the gen 1 fun when they updated it for gen 2. But that gen 2 Focus turned out to be enormously reliable, rolling past 200,000 miles before frame rust made it no longer viable.
Love the T shirt!