Generations of love, labor, and moments of movie fame for our family's heirloom car
In honor of Dad (Clyde “Sonny” Bassett), a member of the Illinois Region M.A.R.C. for 32 years. He passed away in 2017. I am now the Events Director for 2020.
Our Model A and my nostalgia run parallel. Early memories begin with family at Nationals. It’s the mid-eighties at Itasca IL; “Come A Live in 1985” was the tag line, and that weekend we absorbed a spectrum of cars and trucks. Pictures place us also visiting The Henry Ford Museum and Dearborn Village. Model A’s and Model T’s were actively driving, and those images occupy the same pages of our photo album.
As years passed, our hands executed the annual care and maintenance of my great uncle’s 1928 Model A 4 Door Sedan. Through oil changes, brake jobs, and tune ups, we returned life to its existing body. It rode in many Des Plaines 4th of July parades, including the 125th anniversary of that town’s founding. The city’s oldest resident, eager to chat, was chaperoned by us on the route. My prompts about locations helped him recall the history of the area.My teenage self learned patience in that role. But that left me unprepared for my great uncle’s final witnessing of a Model A in the parade; he would pass away in the fall of 1994.
In 1986, a film company ran an ad for Model A’s for a scene. There were scripted downtown street shots; this movie would be “The Untouchables”. Dad, with my great uncle, took the Model A to set locations, meaning up to 20 hours for the car in a few scenes. It was captured, visibly driving; a star was born. I admit that “The Untouchables” is a good movie, but it’s great to point at the screen and show off the family’s Model A.
“The Untouchables” is a good film, but it’s great to point at the screen and show off the family’s Model A.
In 1987, I legally drove the Model A on weekends. We had family moments in the 4th of July Parades, but withdrew when a Shay replica won best antique vehicle. That insulted my father and me and our years of hard work into the Model A. We are not invincible, and since Des Plaines Historical Museum honors all antique car participants with an ice cream social, I forgave. Bigger forces would stall our vision; I left my teen years; Dad drifted from driving the Model A. It spent more time in the garage than on the road. Eventually one bad winter ruined the cover that was on it, in turn destroying the vinyl roof.
We rented a Chicago warehouse to get the Model A ready for running. Ensuring engine turn over, radiator keeping water, tires retaining air.… As we were progressing, the building was sold and we were evicted. Frantic searching for a place to store the Model A and side projects resulted in stalling eternally. We weren’t “home free”either; Dad was diagnosed with cancer and given a couple of years to live.
His prognosis and passing stalled my ambitions for the Model A. While I am thankful that family asks about the project, I have my own timeline to untangle. Dad can’t wingman my decisions, but he can only remind me of my legacy of motion, and the vehicles we pick to carry us and our stories. But today, I am an uncle. Dad would love it if a fourth Bassett felt the magic of a Model A.
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