Maybe it's because it's Saint Patrick's day, but the first neighbor that came to mind for me was Dr. Franics Patrick "Red" Fardy. Red, to my parents; Dr. Fardy to my six-year-old self and to my older sisters. The name, as might be obvious, sounded funny to young ears, like he had bad gas - "farty" - but while we might have initially snickered at the hearing the name, one would never laugh at the man himself who was somewhere between my parents' and my grandparents' ages, but definitely an "elder" not to be made fun of. Besides that, I remember him as a kind, generous man who never talked down to children, and possessed of a marvelous Irish sense of humor.
Dr. Fardy and his wife Frances lived in the house at the end of our street - and at the time it was quite literally the end of the street, since the housing development stopped at that point. Beyond were graded but undeveloped plots and then the wild hills, with a white-painted wood barricade and reflective warning signs blocking where the asphalt stopped, I suppose to keep people from driving up into the dirt. Our house was down the hill on the same side of the street, past another barricaded opening that would one one day be the stem of a "T" intersection, then our next-door neighbors, the Hunters, and then us.
Of true Irish heritage, Dr. Fardy had Irish wolfhounds as pets and a real blackthorn Shillelagh by his front door - all things I would learn later. But one of my first recollections of Dr. Fardy, shortly after we moved in, was the honk of an unfamiliar car horn: "Aoogah! Aoogah!", a sound I had never before heard. My sisters and I, along other kids from the neighborhood, all came running out to see what was going on. What we saw was Dr. Fardy sitting in the right-hand driver's seat of a beautiful machine - a 1921 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost convertible, with the top down and the rumble seat open in the back.
Before we moved to that neighborhood my father, who had once been a naval aviator, owned a black 1957 Jaguar XKE hard-top convertible with red leather interior. It was really only a two-passenger car and although he loved it he had sold it in favor of the more practical station wagon needed for ferrying his family of five around town. To this day I have fond memories of that Jaguar, the smell and the smoothness of the leather, the wooden dash and steering wheel, and especially the magic button on the dash that Dad used to turn on the street lights on the street where I was born. OK, I'm not sure what button it really was, but the fact that he timed when the streetlights came on as a way to amuse and mystify his kids says a lot about the man I had for a father.
As to Dr. Fardy's Rolls Royce, I knew little to nothing of cars at that time, but I knew cool like Dad's jaguar when I saw it, and this definitely qualified. The car was a delicious cream color, the seats a dark tanned leather, the wheels had wire spokes like my bicycle, only much more complicated, and the steering wheel and dash were real wood like Dad's Jaguar. What's more, it even had a crank on the front that, I would learn, was used to start the engine - something I would also learn how to do! Seeing this spectacle, we immediately begged to go for a ride; Dr. Fardy, ever the gentleman and great at gently helping us kids be mindful of our manners, said we most certainly could, but that we would have to ask our parents first.
So of course we shot back into the house, yelling "Mom! Dad! You have to come see!! Dr. Fardy has a really cool car and he says we can go for a ride in it if you say yes. We can, right? Say yes?! Please??!" And of course they came out to admire the car, and as I remember it my father, who did know quite a lot about cars, got into a long conversation with Dr. Fardy that had us all nearly jumping up and down with impatience to go on a ride. It may be that my father got into the passenger seat. It may be that my sisters were in the rear seat. What I remember is that *I* got to ride in the rumble seat in the very back, which was way cool!
Over the years I would get to know Dr. Fardy, listen to his stories, look after his house while he and his wife were travelling, and just feel "safe" knowing they were our neighbors. I do not know if I ever rode in that car again; but I will never forget the excitement it evoked, and the generosity of the man who took his new neighbors for very memorable spin around their neighborhood.
— Zachary
Dr. Fardy and his wife Frances lived in the house at the end of our street - and at the time it was quite literally the end of the street, since the housing development stopped at that point. Beyond were graded but undeveloped plots and then the wild hills, with a white-painted wood barricade and reflective warning signs blocking where the asphalt stopped, I suppose to keep people from driving up into the dirt. Our house was down the hill on the same side of the street, past another barricaded opening that would one one day be the stem of a "T" intersection, then our next-door neighbors, the Hunters, and then us.
Of true Irish heritage, Dr. Fardy had Irish wolfhounds as pets and a real blackthorn Shillelagh by his front door - all things I would learn later. But one of my first recollections of Dr. Fardy, shortly after we moved in, was the honk of an unfamiliar car horn: "Aoogah! Aoogah!", a sound I had never before heard. My sisters and I, along other kids from the neighborhood, all came running out to see what was going on. What we saw was Dr. Fardy sitting in the right-hand driver's seat of a beautiful machine - a 1921 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost convertible, with the top down and the rumble seat open in the back.
Before we moved to that neighborhood my father, who had once been a naval aviator, owned a black 1957 Jaguar XKE hard-top convertible with red leather interior. It was really only a two-passenger car and although he loved it he had sold it in favor of the more practical station wagon needed for ferrying his family of five around town. To this day I have fond memories of that Jaguar, the smell and the smoothness of the leather, the wooden dash and steering wheel, and especially the magic button on the dash that Dad used to turn on the street lights on the street where I was born. OK, I'm not sure what button it really was, but the fact that he timed when the streetlights came on as a way to amuse and mystify his kids says a lot about the man I had for a father.
As to Dr. Fardy's Rolls Royce, I knew little to nothing of cars at that time, but I knew cool like Dad's jaguar when I saw it, and this definitely qualified. The car was a delicious cream color, the seats a dark tanned leather, the wheels had wire spokes like my bicycle, only much more complicated, and the steering wheel and dash were real wood like Dad's Jaguar. What's more, it even had a crank on the front that, I would learn, was used to start the engine - something I would also learn how to do! Seeing this spectacle, we immediately begged to go for a ride; Dr. Fardy, ever the gentleman and great at gently helping us kids be mindful of our manners, said we most certainly could, but that we would have to ask our parents first.
So of course we shot back into the house, yelling "Mom! Dad! You have to come see!! Dr. Fardy has a really cool car and he says we can go for a ride in it if you say yes. We can, right? Say yes?! Please??!" And of course they came out to admire the car, and as I remember it my father, who did know quite a lot about cars, got into a long conversation with Dr. Fardy that had us all nearly jumping up and down with impatience to go on a ride. It may be that my father got into the passenger seat. It may be that my sisters were in the rear seat. What I remember is that *I* got to ride in the rumble seat in the very back, which was way cool!
Over the years I would get to know Dr. Fardy, listen to his stories, look after his house while he and his wife were travelling, and just feel "safe" knowing they were our neighbors. I do not know if I ever rode in that car again; but I will never forget the excitement it evoked, and the generosity of the man who took his new neighbors for very memorable spin around their neighborhood.
— Zachary
Great story through a child's eyes! "Farty" of course.
ReplyDeleteThis is precious. It seems that moments of being magically impressed by such things as a wonderful car... those moments are lost. Not only because we're not children anymore, but because society itself is jaded. But you, I think, have a childlike spirit. I don't know how you kept it alive! (Macoff)
ReplyDeleteThis is just great. I'll bet Mr. Fardy had no idea of the impact that he had on you. I bet you've had the same impact on people as well.
ReplyDelete