Thirty year’s service
I RECALL my father telling me about an event regarding my maternal grandfather’s car. Probably in 1938, while driving, my grandfather was negotiating a slight hairpin bend in my home town of Dalton-in-Furness. As he did so he brushed against a child, knocking the little one over but not causing any injury. This upset my grandfather so much, he soon sold the car, probably not wanting a similar incident to ever occur again.
However, not long afterwards he asked my father, who was at the time courting my mother, “Can you please come with me to Lancaster on Saturday to see if we can buy another car. Life hasn’t been worth living since I got rid of the other one!” (My grandmother (known as Nanna) had probably been on at him.)
Lancaster was the nearest town that sold cars, so off they went on the train to see what was on offer. In one of the garages was a 1938 Morris 8 that had been discounted as a demonstration model and my grandfather expressed his interest to the salesman. Unfortunately they were told that the car had been sold and so Granda (as we called him) and dad returned home with no car.
The following morning (Sunday) at around eight o’clock, as they were having breakfast and about to get ready for chapel, there was knock on the door and there was the salesman from Lancaster with the car saying there had been a mistake and was Granda still interested in purchasing the Morris?
The salesman was invited in for breakfast, a deal was struck and later they all took a trip to Lancaster in Granda’s new car giving the salesman a lift home in the process.
That car was a real stalwart and was sold in about 1964 after nearly 30 years faithful service in which it rarely spent any time in a garage. My father, being a qualified engineer in the shipyard at Barrow, did all the servicing. Would you find the sort of service that salesman gave my Granda these days? I doubt it very much.
Keith Kneebone, Camborne, Cornwall.