1924 Ford Model T – MarketWatch

Yet the subject of all this interest was a 1924 Ford Model T, and cars were never more basic than this.

“You go down the road in a modern car and (people) wouldn’t give you a second look but when you are in the T they are out there smiling and waving,” said fellow auto buff, car restorer and longtime acquaintance Kent Marzoli.

“Everybody is your friend.”

Henry Ford may not have produced the first car, but he had the first mass-produced one aimed squarely at the average Joe of that era.

Ford built his first car in 1896 in his coal shed. More of a designer/engineer than businessman, he allied at various times with investors who went on to found Cadillac and two brothers named Dodge. And the Dodge brothers were working on parts for Oldsmobile when they met up with Henry. Imagine how different the auto industry would be today if those alliances had worked out! A Galaxie 98 Brougham anyone?

In 1908 the first Model T engine was built and the car shipped in October of that year. A “Ford Times” article of that era detailed a 1,357 mile trip in a T that got 20 mpg and gulped 11.5 quarts of oil, but that figure might have been higher.

For an in depth history of Ford
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 and the T, go to the Model T Club of America website.

In 1909 there were five T models on the market. Marzoli found his 1924 Touring in tough shape in a garage with a dirt floor.

(See slide show for the before and after pictures.)

Friends helped him push it on to a trailer for a ride to its new home and new life.

“You paid a thousand dollars for that, (?!)” said a skeptical mother in law shortly after the T’s arrival. (To be fair, she thoroughly enjoyed riding in it later.)

The car was stripped to the frame and the engine was put in a wheelbarrow headed to the basement for its reincarnation. So how hard is it to get parts for an 88-year-old Ford?

“It is just as easy to get parts for a T as it is for a car made yesterday,” Marzoli said. “There are suppliers all over the world.”

Good friends with needed tools pitched in and, working part time, a dozen years later the T was restored to greater grandeur. Better yet, Marzoli’s father got to drive it — nothing short of a mind boggling, perhaps teary opportunity for a kind and gentle man to relive great memories of his early years.

The car I saw in its garage/workshop looked better than new, a heaping helping of history mixed with the improved materials of today.

“I’ve preserved a piece of history,” said the proud owner.

To drive this piece of history, “you have to forget everything you know” starting with how you get in. The touring model only had three doors so the driver has to scoot across the seat from the passenger side.

The controls are entirely different from today’s cars, including the three floor pedals. For example, the third pedal from the left is the foot brake not the accelerator. Two of the pedals are shifters: the clutch (in for low gear and out for high) and the reverse pedal (while holding neutral with the clutch.) The accelerator is a lever that lives on the steering column!

“To me it’s exhilarating. There is something about the hand controls and having to do everything yourself and not having the car do it. If you don’t do it, nothing happens, you don’t go anywhere,” said Marzoli.

One sits upright in the T with a magnificent view of the road. It is noisy fun as the four-cylinder 20-horsepower engine tools down the road at a cruising speed of about 25 mph, with a top speed of maybe 45 mph downhill with a tailwind.

“But it’s scary,” said the owner, due to the skinny tires and so-so brakes of the era. There is no speedometer, just an ignition switch and ammeter on the black dash. Yet driving it is nothing but fun.

In this sometime very inpatient world we live in, the T is held in such high esteem that not one motorist complained of the slower pace set by the car in our various excursions.

Commenting on its speed, Marzoli said with a smile, “I defy a cop to stop me one day and try to give me a speeding ticket.”

Two adults can fit in front and three good friends to the rear.

Cruising along on a magnificent late summer day, I wondered how he modified the engine accepts today’s unleaded fuel. It turns out when the T’s engine was designed there was no lead in gasoline, so filling up the nine-gallon tank is no big deal. Of course gas was roughly five or six gallons for a buck back in the day.

“Ron, you haven’t had enough time in the T. We’re going for ice cream,” proclaimed Diane Marzoli, wife of the restorer. Across town we motored one evening to a jam packed ice cream stand in a pine grove where even a small cup of Maple Walnut would put a smile on Paul Bunyan’s lips. (It is a New England flavor.)

Virtually every customer turned and pointed to the car and smiled.

“It’s a case of memories,” Marzoli said. “It reminds them of their childhood.”

During the nearly 10 years of writing this column, I have had the chance to drive Ferrari’s and Lambos, Porsches, Bentleys and one Roller. Yet with its noisy engine, gears, and exhaust, open windows and folding top, the T tops the endearment chart and ranks as one of my greatest rides.

Plus there is that big look of satisfaction displayed on the face of the owner/restorer during every trip — the realization of a dream much discussed during long walks home from high school back too many years ago when we both were young.

Notes

It was a different world in 1924. Cal Coolidge was president, Lenin died and Stalin began his bid for power. Lee Iacocca was born as was Marlon Brando. IBM was founded along with MGM. Mercedes Benz was formed and the first Macy’s Thanksgiving parade was staged.

Important note

Next weekend will mark the end of this column on MarketWatch after almost 10 years. I have decided to move to new opportunities and adventures online that will give me the ability to update readers on a frequent basis on the latest auto news as well as continuing the Saturday road tests. You can initially find me on Facebook.

It will now be known as Ron Amadon’s Roads yet with updated content, and the familiar weekend tests of everything from small to huge, thrifty to expensive — with the emphasis on “what is this vehicle like to live with on a daily basis.”