One of my earliest recollections of traveling was cruising with the family along the interstates in my dad's V8 powered Ford sedan. It was one of the annual vacation trips from Schererville, IN, to Crivitz, WI, to visit dad's family.

My little brother, Larry, rode in the front with mom and dad while I rode in the backseat with my older brother and sister. Of course, Gary sat on one side to view out the window and Judi sat on the other side, which left me in the middle straddling the hump. Since I couldn't see much out the windows past my older siblings, I focused on looking out the windshield. Even though it was a long drive, I enjoyed watching the miles melt away as I chatted with mom and watched the traffic. Every once in a while, dad would put the "pedal to the metal" to get away from some "crazy" on the highway. That was probably the best part of the whole trip.

In high school, I took driver's education and since Lake Central High School was located on US 41 just south of US 30, I literally learned to drive at highway speed.

After graduating from high school, I joined the Army to qualify for the G.I. education benefit and the Army promptly sent me to Vietnam. The first day in country, the clerk in-processing me asked if I had a driver's license and, since I did, he issued an Army driver's license which authorized me to drive everything from Jeeps and sedans to cargo trucks. It was a good thing that he did because a couple of many jobs was to get supplies for the Defense Communications Agency (DCA) that I was assigned to and to courier classified messages between compounds.

Getting supplies in a WWII vintage three-quarter ton truck (like the one shown above) was one of the least favorite tasks. Things were always breaking on that truck. Once the clutch linkage broke and I had to drive that beast to the Air Force motor pool without using a clutch to shift. It was good practice for driving some of the cars I owned later but it just didn't go fast enough.

Running the messages between the DCA compound and other compounds was a little more interesting. Fortunately, I had access to a 1960s era International Scout (Good old #804) for that purpose. It looked like the one pictured above. Of course "my" Scout was olive drab green without the roof rack. Unfortunately, it was not running well when I first received it. It would stumble and almost die every time it stopped and it had very little power. I tried replacing the air cleaner, adjusting the carb and replacing the distributer cap, rotor and points without success. Then I tried removing the spark plug wires one at a time and when I got to #4, I found it was defective. Once I had all four cylinders firing, it ran a lot better so I cleaned it up, painted the worst spots and even used some aircraft wax to give it a shine. I didn't own the Scout, but it was the first vehicle that I considered mine and now it looked almost brand new but the little inline four cylinder did not have enough power for me.

During the hot, dry months the olive drab Scout was a bit too warm so I opted for a light gray Jeep. Actually, it was not made by Jeep, it was a Ford utility vehicle (U.S. Army Truck, 1/4 ton, 4×4) but everyone referred to those as Jeeps. I felt like a sitting duck in that Ford with its open top and combat tires that barely gripped the pavement so I had the motor pool scrounge up some street tires and tune up the engine. Now the Ford could fly and I could zip between the compounds without worrying about being picked off by snipers (or so I thought).

When I returned home (See, I was right about the snipers), mom and dad sold their 1968 Rebel 770 with a 290 V8 and 3-speed automatic to me. I think dad was ready for a new car or perhaps they were just happy that I had made it home, but they sold it to me for much less than it was worth. This was the first car that I owned. It was not a hot sports car, but it was truly mine.

I loaded up the Rebel (I really only had one duffel bag) and drove it to my next duty assignment in Alexandria, VA. Finally, I was back to cruising the American highways which had a posted limit of 70 mph back then.

What followed was series of cars which were less than exciting.

The only new car I ever owned was a 1972 AMC Hornet with another V8 and automatic transmission. Although it was lightweight with sway bars, air shocks, and Dunlop tires, I always wished that is could perform better. It was dark blue with aluminum wheels.

Unfortunately, it spent more time in the repair shop than at home for the first six months that I owned it, primarily because the AMC mechanics could not find or fix the problems. After tracing the wires for the ignition system I found a bad connector near the distributor that I soldered together and we were back in business.

For a second car, I picked up a 1972 Honda 600 Coupe. It had a 600 cc (0.6 liter) motorcycle engine running through a manual transmission. It did not have much power but it would serve well enough to get me to and from my college courses. That was until the poor little engine finally gave out and I had to rebuild it.

What followed was a series of cheap used cars. They were cheap to purchase but not cheap to keep.

The first cheap car was a 1985 Buick Somerset two-door with a 2.5L 4-cylinder engine and automatic transmission. It did not have much power (about 96 hp) and seemed to attract damage.

Once one of my colleagues at a college where I worked backed into my driver's door. He took off without telling me but eventually confessed after I confronted him. Another time the front end was crushed when my son was horsing around in it during a snowstorm.

For a short time, I owned a 1986 Chevrolet Celebrity. This car had a V6 and automatic transmission and did not last long. The intake manifold gasket leaked antifreeze into the engine and destroyed it. It really was not worth repairing.

Then I had a couple of Buick LeSabres both were 1987 models. They were both front wheel drive with the 3800 V6 engine and automatic transmission. The first one had just been paid off when a tow truck ran a stop sign and destroyed the entire front end. The second LeSabre held on for over 300,000 miles with relatively minor repairs; however, when the rear seal of the engine and the transmission started acting up, it was time to move on.

Since I was starting my doctoral degree in 2003, I traded the Buick for a red 1997 Cadillac STS. The STS was still front wheel drive like the Buick; however, it had the Northstar V8 engine. The university that I was attending was 100 miles away and I wanted a car that would be good for all of the highway miles. The V8 STS was certainly that. The STS accumulated over 270,000 miles before I began to worry about major parts going bad.

I was just wrapping up my dissertation in 2010 and decided that my reward would a car that I always loved, a Jaguar. A Chicago dealership happened to have a 2005 XJ8L in near perfect condition. It was a one owner 4.2 L car with a 6-speed transmission and only had 40,000 miles on it. I named her Jenny. This is an actual picture of Jenny taken in 2020. I have taken Jenny to British car shows and she has won a number of awards at those shows including a second place and a first place finish in her class. But Jenny is not just a pretty face. At that time she was the best performing and best handling car I had every owned.

By 2020 Jenny had over 200,000 miles on her and although she still functioned well, I decided that she needed a little sister to help carry the load. I actually started looking for a daily driver around 2014 when Jaguar came out with their first true sports in 50 years, the F-Type. I purchased a 2015 F-Type Coupe in 2020 with only 20,000 miles on her. I named her Jentu (Get it? Jenny number 2). This is an actual picture of Jentu taken in 2020. I also take Jentu to car shows and she is another award winner. Jentu is a true driver's car with excellent acceleration, handling, and braking. She is a joy to drive.