These Are The Best Cars Our Dads Had When We Were Growing Up

Though my father was a car enthusiast, we used cars as appliances for living — getting to work, getting to school, etc. — thanks to our lower-middle class status. When my twin sister and I were born in 1986, my parents needed a much larger vehicle than my Dad’s Ford Taurus or my mom’s AMC Eagle. The year my parents were graced with twins was the same year the Ford Aerostar first went up for sale. Using a family discount, my dad became the proud owner of Ford’s first minivan.

We had that car for over ten years, through many road trips, spills and slip ups. I burned the living shit out of my arm on the silver door after it sat in the sun too long when I was eight and still have the scar to prove it.

But why I really, REALLY loved the Aerostar was thanks to a little television show known as “Star Trek: The Next Generation.” No car served better as a make-believe shuttle for all of our imaginary away missions. The sliding door was close enough in size and shape to the ingress of a shuttlecraft, and the knobs and buttons on the dash served as makeshift controls. My twin and I explored strange new worlds, sought out new life and new civilizations all while boldly staying in our driveway in Detroit.

I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for these vans. Today it’s a piece of history, a random car from decades ago, but back then, it was a dream machine, taking two dumb kids on a new adventure every week.

By Erin Marquis

The cars my dad has owned have been all over the automotive spectrum. From Mercedes 190Es to Porsches and fourth-gen Mustangs, it’s safe to say he has some broad tastes. One of my favorite cars he owned when I was a kid was a Mitsubishi Montero.

I like the Montero because of how random and unexpected it was. I recall him driving a first-generation Ford Expedition around the same time, then all of a sudden he had this dark blue Montero. At first, I thought it was strange. As a kid, specifically a kid into cars, I know it was a Mitsubishi, I just didn’t know what kind of Mitsubishi. It came across as cool but also strange. Cool in that I remember there being some distinctly Japanese about it but strange in that it didn’t seem like the kind of vehicle my dad would own.

Being halfway through elementary school at the time, I remember being intrigued by some of the features it had; I was young enough that I didn’t quite understand what they were or why it had some things that I couldn’t identify. Why was there a dash-mounted compass, or a weird ball thing with lines in one of the gauges on the dash that would move? (It was an altimeter.) Why was there a second gearshift alongside the other gearshift? (This was for the four-wheel-drive system of course.) My mom hated the car, though. She’s never been a fan of SUVs, and the tall and narrow stature of the Montero made her all kinds of nervous. She hated when my dad would pick me and my sister up in it, especially with how he drove.

I never quite knew what happened to my dad’s Montero, and I never really thought to ask either. Thinking back on it now, I should. It was probably the most random and unexpected vehicle my dad has ever owned, and I have questions.

By Lawrence Hodge

Sadly I wasn’t yet born to experience the coolest car that my dad owned, which is also his personal favorite and the first car he got and owned for himself: a 1982 Volvo 245 Turbo wagon in gold with tan leather, and yes, it had the manual transmission. He was working at General Computer at the time, and one of his bosses had gotten a silver 242 Turbo as a company car. All of the other engineers thought it was awesome, so my dad got his wagon and another coworker got a 244 Turbo. My dad says it was a blast to drive and he loved how practical it was — he used it to transport arcade games for the company and once filled it with $20,000 worth of new Macintosh computers from an Apple Distribution center.

Several years after he first got the car my dad ordered Volvo’s factory intercooler kit that added 30 more horsepower and came with a new Intercooler badge for the back, and one time he kept up with a coworker in a Porsche 944 Turbo while zipping through Boston. Aside from that, his only modification or personalization was putting a heart sticker that said “I love Ms. Pac-Man” over a blank switch on the dash. He was sad when he had to give up — the turbo went and it started billowing black smoke — and he was so used to driving a manual and a wagon that it was hard to find a replacement. My mom ended up getting him a blue Subaru Loyale wagon with a turbocharger, four-wheel drive and a manual transmission, plus fancy features like power windows!

By Daniel Golson

When I was a kid, my dad owned a 100-series Land Cruiser in a color that can only be described as “weird beige gold.” It didn’t look great, but it helped the deer hair blend in when one ran into the side of the truck en route to school one day. This was the truck that took us skiing, that served as a tent for weekends at Lime Rock Park; the specific model that kickstarted my love for all Land Cruisers. Including the current one. Which is, in fact, a Land Cruiser. Andy.

By Amber DaSilva

My dad has been all over the place when it comes to the cars he’s had while I’ve been around. The man went from this Laser to a Sebring to a Ford Explorer to a Mercury Mountaineer to a Hyundai Elantra with a few motorcycles smattered throughout. It’s been, let’s say, a mixed bag. But, the car that has always stuck out to me the most was his first car I ever remember existing: that Laser.

It made such an impression on me that even though he sold it in 2000 when I was just four years old, it’s still my favorite. I remember playing with the pistol-grip-ish five-speed manual shifter and being in awe of the pop-up headlights that DSM sadly got rid of for the car’s second generation. I have so many vivid memories of one of those lights being stuck up while the other was down, and it sort of freaked me out at the time. Oh, and lest we forget the Laser came with automatic seat belts, which were just the coolest things ever put into a car.

The Laser may not have been the best sports car in the world. His mid-level Laser RS sent just 135 horsepower to the front wheels, so it certainly wasn’t fast or the best handler in the world. However, it was very cool looking, and that’s what a sports coupe should be.

Do you know what else is cool looking? My dad. That’s him on the head image of this story. He’s such a legend. Love you, Pops.

By Andy Kalmowitz

My dad didn’t have the best run with cars when I was growing up. For a large chunk of time, he had a Honda Stream, a three-row minivan a bit like the Odyssey but worse looking. We got that so we could take my grandma out more often, but I think she only rode in that car a handful of times.

Then there were the rumors my mum liked to tell about how he actually had some pretty cool cars and a fair amount of taste before his three kids came along and spoiled all that, but I never got to see him with his flared trousers, big hair and swanky old Escort. I did, however, spend a lot of time riding around in the back of his excellent old Volvo — a true dad car if ever there was one.

He had a few great Volvos over the years, but the one that holds the most memories for me was a dark blue 940 Estate, and yes it was an Estate and not a Wagon because I grew up in England. The car was as boxy as they come but provided everything we needed on our regular treks to Scotland or the Lake District to camp, cycle and explore. I also vividly remember heading to the Peak District to go sledding one year and the car got stuck in the snow. Never fear, though, as my dad just flicked the car around and reversed his way out of there. It was maybe the slickest driving move he’s ever done.

By Owen Bellwood

My favorite car that my dad owned growing up was his 1986 Ford Mustang SVO. He bought this thing new from the dealer in 1986 and it remained his daily driver throughout my youth until 2012 when the Mustang was retired and left to rot in my dad’s backyard, which is how you see it pictured here. It was horribly unreliable, and the plastic headlight covers were so burnt that he had to drive with the high beams on to see anything. I folded myself into the back seat of this turbocharged four-cylinder Mustang until I was 6-foot-6 when my dad retired the SVO, but I still loved it. Nobody knew about the SVO growing up, so I got to brag about his rare performance car.

The biplane spoiler rattled incessantly over any pavement, the paint was ruined, the original tail light covers were stolen and we couldn’t afford the right replacements so we slapped these on. This thing introduced me to performance cars, and I will never forget it. Was it a good family car? Not even a little bit, but it sure was different, and I’ll always appreciate that. How many people can say they grew up in the back seat of a Ford Mustang SVO? I love you dad, happy Father’s Day.

By Logan Carter

I’ve never really thought of my Dad as a car guy, though in hindsight, he did have some good cars. A Jeep CJ5 and a Camaro, a B21o A TJ, and most notably, three Miatas — two red NAs and a green NC.

He loved them, and tried to teach me to drive a stick in one of them. After he sold the first one, he’d tell us that “Mom made me sell it because it was too much fun.” Not nice, in hindsight!

He always either had a Miata or was talking about buying another one. He still talks about getting another one when he’s lucid, fantasizing about someday getting to drive again.

I moved home to Traverse City a few years ago to be nearer to him. It really is the perfect place for a Miata; lots of lonely, twisting roads through the woods, endless, broad beaches. I’m about as old as he was when he bought that first Miata now. I try to imagine the inside of his head as he commuted to his job teaching 8th grade history, stopped off for a beer with friends, blasted Aretha Franklin on the way home to me, my siblings, my Mom.

It’s impossible to know what that was really like for him, what he was feeling or thinking about in those days. Last year I bought him a nice NA Miata model to keep in the house, but he can’t see it really, may not remember it at all. I should really take him out for a ride in one.

By Rory Caroll