The years I drove this base 2013 VW Passat were marked by repeated profound loss. But the car itself — solid, reliable, quietly competent — was a reassuring constant through it all.
We’d been driving tired, high-mileage cars partly because finances dictated it. We could finally buy used cars with a lot of life left in them. Just after my father died in early 2018, I found this 2013 VW Passat on a Porsche dealer’s lot, of all places. It had just 30,000 miles and was priced to sell. It drove well on the test drive, and everything checked out. I negotiated a price within the cash I had on hand (just $11k!) and bought it.
I didn’t need fancy. I needed something that would take a couple back-seat passengers with leg room to spare and hold a weekend’s worth of luggage for Margaret and me. I’d looked at a Kia Sportage and a five-speed Toyota Corolla within that price range, both of which checked those boxes. The Passat blew them both away.
This car was built like a bank vault: solid and quiet. The buff mags dissed its 2.5 L five-cylinder engine as weak in the midsize class. I thought it had great power, but maybe that was because I was coming off many years of driving fours. Steering was precise and the brakes were outstanding.
I’m six feet tall. In the photo above, the front seat is set for my driving position and I’m sitting in the back with gobs of room between my knees and the front seat back.
I liked the car’s sober styling, which carried into the interior. So many of this car’s contemporaries had swoopy styling inside and out. The Passat was styled with a straight edge.
The Passat and the Focus coexisted in our driveway for a few months until we bought a used 2017 Kia Soul for Margaret. The Soul is funky and fun.
For the first time in a long time, the driveway felt stable. The rest of life was anything but.
When Margaret and I married, we thought the kids who still lived with us would launch into independent adulthood within a year or two. It didn’t work out that way, for reasons that aren’t my stories to tell. This unexpected extension of parenting put real strain on us.
In January of 2018, Margaret’s oldest son eloped with his high-school sweetheart. Just after Easter, she died in an accident. She was just 25 years old.
It felt like a hard blow to the head — my ears rang for three days. The grief crushed all of us. Margaret’s son lost his wife. We lost a daughter-in-law we’d barely had time to know.
This came just months after my father’s death. But my father had lived a full life and had cheated cancer three times. His death felt like it was in proper order. Our daughter-in-law’s death absolutely did not.
Then in the summer of 2019 we lost Margaret’s mom. She’d been in decline for a few years and then she died. I was still raw from my father’s death and the accident. I did what you do: visits, logistics, funerals. I cared, but I was numb. My own grief filled the space where that loss should have gone.
One way we took care of ourselves was by taking quarterly long-weekend trips alone. Chicago was our favorite destination, but we also made a couple trips south to explore bourbon country in Kentucky.
We also visited historic places like New Harmony, Indiana, which was founded as a utopian experiment. This photo is from New Harmony. I like how the light plays across the Passat’s surfaces in this photo.
I continued my road-trip hobby in the Passat. I quickly learned that a midsize sedan isn’t as nimble on sketchy old roads as a compact. It just takes up more space than a smaller car, and is more cumbersome to turn around in a dead end. Here’s the Passat on what used to be a road that carried Indiana State Road 67. The utility poles are the best evidence that this grassy path used to be a road.
Here the Passat is on the National Road (old US 40) in Putnam County, Indiana, in 2023. This was the only brick segment of US 40 in Indiana that I knew of, and I learned that it was about to be removed. I went right out to photograph it. I don’t normally trespass on private property in my old-road documentation projects, but when historic pavement is about to be destroyed, I make an exception.
Margaret and I took a Spring Break trip with her youngest, on one of the years it was my ex-wife’s turn to have our sons over that break. We visited Washington, D.C., and at her youngest’s request, drove all the way out to the Atlantic Ocean at Ocean City, Maryland. This involved a long stretch of US 50, taking us to its eastern endpoint.
The Passat really grew on me. It was just highly competent — spacious, a good handler, powerful enough to inspire confidence, with good gas mileage. Seriously, where the Focus got 26 MPG no matter what, the bigger Passat with its bigger engine got 30 around town and 33 on the highway. It also proved extremely reliable for a long time. All it needed was oil changes, well past 100,000 miles.
I was grateful the Passat never added drama, because my family had enough.
On New Year’s Eve in 2021, I was backing the Passat into my driveway when my youngest son called. “Dad, I have some very bad news.” My oldest child had committed suicide in her home.
I finished backing into the driveway. I put the car in park and turned it off. My hands stayed on the wheel and I stared at the end of the driveway. I sat there, locked in place. I understood the words, but nothing in me knew what to do next.
I got out and walked inside. I went straight to Margaret in the kitchen. She turned to me with her usual smile — and it vanished when she saw my face.
“Rana killed herself,” I said. “She’s dead.”
Her eyes went wide, then empty. Then she pulled me into her arms and I began to sob.
I will always wish she’d been willing to tell me she was in such a bad place. But she was always intensely private, even as a child. I knew she had some troubles, but did not know they were this terribly bad.
I did three years of grief therapy after she died. It wasn’t until six months into that therapy that I could see how much I had shut down in response to my daughter’s death. Honestly, I don’t know how I kept working through these months.
The therapy also brought up all sorts of unresolved pain from my first marriage, and feelings of guilt for not being more involved with my daughter after the divorce. The therapy helped me find acceptance over the loss. That it also helped me find greater peace over the end of my first marriage was welcome, but unexpected.
Meanwhile, my mother confided in me that cancer had been found on one of her lungs. Despite chemo and radiation, it took her quickly. She passed away in September of 2022. I adored my mother and always feared that losing her would undo me. I feel cheated that it didn’t, because losing my daughter was so hard.
Less than a year later we lost Margaret’s dad, of old age. I don’t know how Margaret and I survived all of this. What we went through, individually and together, was awful.
In 2023, after about 115,000 miles, things started going wrong with the Passat — annoying things, mostly minor. The plastic shield under the engine fell off, dragging on the pavement and making a ruckus. I removed it. The car fell out of alignment and it took three trips to the mechanic to get that sorted. The AC compressor failed, so I replaced it. I also replaced the control arms — a normal wear item, but the car was young for it.
It felt like the Passat was entering its old age. I was well familiar with nursing cars through those difficult years. But then I realized that for the first time since my divorce, I was in a financial position where I didn’t have to do that again. I was leading a global software-engineering organization and making really good money.
In the fall of 2023 I traded the Passat in on the fun car I always wanted. I’ll tell its story soon. But first, I want to tell the story of the many cars my wife and I bought for our kids, trying to help them be independent.
(A note for readers with long memories. Earlier in this series I referred to my daughter as my son. In her 30s, she transitioned to live as a woman. I have her permission to refer to her as “son” when telling stories from before her transition.)
Blessings to you and yours. You have the ability to express thoughts well.
Thank you.
In these tariff-conscious times, inquiring minds want to know: was the Passat a German import or Chattanooga-built?
Designed for the North American market, built in the US.
Wow, that’s a lot to go through. You appear to have handled it better than could perhaps be expected (seeing as you can write about it). And luckily you and Margaret have each other to help with the (respective) load, I believe sometimes the hard part is letting the other help with it in the first place.
I had to check the byline when I saw the pic of your lower half in the backseat to make sure it wasn’t mine… 🙂 The Passat IS extremely spacious in the back as well as the front and the sober styling is aging very well, perhaps even making an impact today that is greater than it might have been if everything else wasn’t more attention-seeking from the styling perspective…
Writing about it (including while it was happening) helped me make sense of it all and find peace.
Yes, even today the final generation of Passat looks modern on the road.
First, I have to say how much I love your road history photos and stories. As a geography enthusiast and a road enthusiast, I always find these fascinating. And as a result of these CC articles, I’ve started reading your own blog regularly.
I have a special affinity for US-50, since we live about 2 mi. from it in Virginia, and my wife’s family lives about 2 miles from it 1,000 mi. away. Over various road trips, I’ve driven on every portion of US-50 except for the ~150 mi. stretch between Winchester and Clarskburg. Maybe someday, but when we’re heading in that direction it always seems like we’re in too much of a rush to take the US-50 scenic route.
Regarding VW’s, the people I’ve known who’ve owned them from this era have either had terrific or terrible experiences with them. In your case, you certainly got your money’s worth – and the stability during that era in your life… just not having to worry about one more thing… was probably priceless. $11,000 was quite a deal for this!
I like these Passats in theory (like you insinuated, I like the sober styling and when I’ve driven VWs, I’ve liked them). But their reliability reputation would probably scare me off.
VW reliability has really improved since the 1990s. Like I mentioned in my post below, in almost eight years my VW has never had any kind of repair. At 67,000 km, I haven’t even done the brakes yet. The car is also a riot to drive!
I would LOVE to drive US 50 end to end someday! Maybe that’s a post-retirement project.
What I’m hearing is that the Passat with the 2.5 5 is usually a bulletproof car.
My heart goes out to you, Jim.
Thank you. Rough years they were.
When I bought my 2018 Golf, I was told by all asunder that it would begin falling apart the day I drove it off the lot. Well, low and behold, there hasn’t been a single problem with. The tuned EA888 is a real romper stomper. It made good power before the software update but torque of the tuned engine is very impressive.
I have been thinking of doing an update on it but there is nothing to tell, as nothing has gone wrong. I drive it around Vancouver’s Westside and rarely go above 60 km/h.
BTW, I love to “sober” syling of VW cars.
My current car packs an EA888! 🙂
Me three. Great engine though only 60k miles so can’t speak for the long term.
Me four. 2015 Golf Sportwagen, 190,000 kms, runs perfectly.
Interesting and good story .
As a VW Mechanic I don’t much trust their newer products so it’s good to hear this one served well .
The good rear seat leg room is a pleasant bonus .
I wonder : did you save a brick or two ? .
Los Angles, when I worked in downtown still had paved over cobble stone streets, when they dug up the one near my work I considered savein n or two but didn’t in the end .
-Nate
I did not save a brick. They were still firmly bound together in the pavement.
We just never know what the person across the room is experiencing, do we? Thank you for sharing such important parts of your life.
After reading your post, I was somewhat bemused by the fact that gear heads almost always associate experiences with whatever vehicle (s) were part of the story. For example….
Well, of course, this COAL series encourages one to write about life through the lens of the cars! But yes, they are anchors for us gearheads.
I remember reading about each of your personal losses as you shared them. What I had forgotten is that it was the Passat keeping automotive drama at bay as you grieved. That alone might make it the best car you ever owned.
I always found these attractive. I remember worrying when you bought it, but it certainly gave you your money’s worth!
I was disappointed with its reliability after 115k. Today you should expect to go 150, even 200 relatively trouble free.
Sorry to hear you went through so much in a short time. In no way to equate it with the loss of a daughter as it isn’t nearly equivalent, a staff member of mine texted me one morning saying he was going to be late that morning as he was going to see his father. He then disabled the air bag of his car and drove at speed into a brick wall. I was lucky that my company got on it with grief counselling. However, it changed the way I deal with struggling people from that day forwards.
On to cars. On my way to morning hike I went through the drive through to get a coffee before hike I noticed the cars of the older men’s morning coffee club. A couple of Jetta’s there along with whatever else the person was driving when they retired. A bunch of 10 year old Korean cars, nondescript grey sedans and oddballs like an old Windstar. Not that men my age and older should worry what we drive but hopefully it is still a choice not a necessity.
I remember a fellow I worked with passing away from cancer while I worked with him. Hard stuff. Just someone you see every day and then they’re gone.
I currently own the fun car I always wanted but after I’m done with it I can see myself just buying a CR-V and riding it until I die.
There’s something achingly poetic about driving one of those old brick roads right as it was slated to disappear, especially in the context of this entire (beautiful) piece. Thank you for writing this.
I’ve driven many old roads around southern IL and Indiana back in the day and the brick ones were always like a magic trick.
Last year I took a longish trip to Greenville, IL, to drive a one-lane concrete section of IL 127. Maybe you know it!
https://blog.jimgrey.net/2025/07/18/the-one-lane-concrete-road-that-used-to-be-illinois-sr-127-north-of-greenville/
You’re very brave to post such a personal narrative in a public forum.
Really? Why brave? It’s a personal story, I didn’t reveal anything damning about me, and it’s fully human.
I have nothing intelligent, other than agreement, that I can add to what others have said here about the true substance of this post.
But what I will say is that I really really like your lede photo, and the photo taken in Clermont (KY) at the Jim Beam distillery. It’s funny, when I lived in KY (not so far from bourbon country), after we had explored all of the distilleries in Bourbon County, we then headed into Indiana on road trips. It’s interesting and fun to see many of the same sights in your posts, only from the other direction.
We have such a hard time being tourists in our home regions!
Having lost my son a few years back, I feel your pain. It’s brutal.
Yes it is. Four years on and it is still raw in places.
I can’t imagine losing a child. I lost both my dogs last year. Lola developed a brain tumour at age 7 and Bagel succumbed to old age soon after. I got another dog right way. Losing the dogs was bad enough. I don’t think I could cope with losing a child.
A dog I lost remains one of the most painful losses of my life. Don’t discount the dogs.
https://blog.jimgrey.net/2022/10/20/comparing-and-contrasting-grief/
The 2012 “NMS” Passat was a new, diverged model designed for markets where driving character and a premium experience weren’t so much of a focus as space and value-for-the-money. Notably, it would be sold in the US and China. For the US, the Passat would be assembled in its new Chattanooga, TN plant.
When I first heard about it, I was dismissive. I thought it was doing a cheap impression of a final-gen W-body Impala (2006-2013, 2014-2016 as the Impala Classic). All I knew was that it was going to be cheaper and Americanized, which to a VW fan seemed like a downgrade all around.
My first time seeing one was in a 2010s sitcom called “The Middle.” Naturally, the low-class, perpetually broke family of the show, the Hecks, can’t get a new car. But their neighbors, the Donahues do. Really, the entire episode was sponsored by Volkswagen, and the company chose the sort of configuration most people would get: a 2.5 SE model in Opera Red Metallic, with a Beige interior and the navigation package. The Donahues go out of town and leave their car in the care of the Hecks, with Nancy Donahue asking simply to put the car in the garage so that it doesn’t get vandalized. Hilarity ensues, with each member of the Heck family using (and abusing) the Passat secretly.
When I first got to sample an NMS Passat, I came away liking it. Beneath the car’s staid interior was a solid, well-dampened, quality car. The Passat wasn’t a knock-off of the Impala; it was what the Impala *should* have been. The 2.5-liter I5 was characterful, but efficient, and also low-drama (it seriously has to be the most reliable modern engine Volkswagen has done, other than the 2.slow). The TDI would get 40 MPG on the highway and an honest-to-goodness 800 miles to a tank. And the VR6 was silky smooth.
Still, in upper trims, there were some shortcomings. You couldn’t get a Passat with full leather in the SEL, only a leather/faux-suede combo that I didn’t think was very functional. The wood trim was unconvincing, to say the least. And there was no option for HID or even projector headlights, in an environment where at least projector headlights were standard on just about every competitor. VW fixed all of that with the 2016 facelift, although by then, they had moved to the more-questionable 1.8T and later 2.0T engines in place of the 2.5 I5.
I ended up with a Jetta SportWagen TDI, but had originally set out to buy a Passat TDI SE or 2.5 SE. I’ve always had a fondness for them. I had a friend with a 2016 SEL with the VR6, and it felt like a much more expensive car than it was.
I remember when VW introduced this Passat, thinking much the same as you, that they cheaped out for market share.
Then I test-drove this one, used, and was deeply impressed. This Passat was the most capable and competent family car I ever had.
Too many losses in such a short period of time is enough to test anyone. I only dealt with two unexpected in 10 months which I have gotten over if I don’t think back to that time.
Funny, that mileage sign to Sacramento CA. If you are going to say the mileage, from coast to coast, then one would think San Francisco making it around 3160.
The reason it’s Sacramento is because that’s where that highway’s other end is. There’s a similar sign at US 50’s beginning in Sacramento calling out Ocean City, MD.
Really. I’ll have to look closely as to where since I’ll be driving up to Reno two weeks from now. US 50 starts right where US 80 meets to form the split with 80 heading northbound and 50 more eastward. Of course, the last time I drove I somehow missed the 80 exit on the right and had to drive 50 to 5 to get to 80.
Commiserations on so many losses in a short time. Especially the suicide.
My 2012 Passat has 417k miles on it.
Bought it with 160k miles on it after i wrecked my 2013 Diesel in 2016.
Did a lot of stuff to keep it going but nothing major.
It’s been relegated to backup duty at my secondary residence.
It’s really showing its age now as it was never packed inside.
It’s got some issues now, the latest is the fan stopped working.
Probably going to call cars for kids ….
Wow 400+k! Well done!!
Jim, I deeply empathize with your losses. My family has seen more than our share in the last 7 years, from my best friend, to both of my parents, to another close friend, and to my wife’s 23yo cousin who was like a little sister to us. There’s not much that can be said, just lean into the people who love you, and know that there are people who have been there, too, and are always willing to listen.
As for the VW – happy to hear of your experience. I wanted one of these when they were introduced, but by the time I was in the market something else had caught my eye. We very recently stepped back into VW ownership (well, leasee-ship) after avoiding German cars for a long time, and so far, we love the vehicle.
Thank you Brian.
Which VW did you get? Seems like they’re an SUV company now, like all of the American manufacturers.
We went with the Atlas, in the snazzy R Line trim, as our new family vehicle. Another one designed for and built in America. Super impressed so far – plan to write it up shortly