QOTD: Man, I Miss That Car

A couple of weeks ago, Steph asked about the one that got away. From Aussie coupes to strange French sedans — which, by the way, require such a deep love of all things Gallic that one must have garlic toothpaste in their medicine cabinet — the B&B had some great examples of forbidden fruit for which they yearn.

Thing is, though, all those examples were denied us by the manufacturers. This time, we’re going for something far more personal. What’s the one that got away … because you sold it?

We’re all gearheads here at TTAC, readers and writers alike, which is one of the main reasons I enjoy contributing to our little online automotive asylum. As such, we tend to get all misty-eyed and weepy when talking about certain cars, especially if they’re ones we thoroughly enjoyed but chose to dispose of either in a moment of financial weakness or during a particularly aggressive fleet reduction program.

Me? My reasoning was the former … tinged with more than a bit of panic. Fourteen years ago (holy crap, has it been that long?), I swaggered into the dimly lit living room of a man who was – by all accounts – well known to the local constabulary, dumped a sackful of tens and twenties on his coffee table, and walked out with the keys to his 1989 Lincoln Mark VII LSC. Come to think of it, that whole tale would make a good post; let our Managing Ed know in the comments if you want me to spill all the details in a long-form narrative.

Anyway, I enjoyed the Mark VII for six good years and intended to enjoy it for many more. However, while Canada fared better than our southern neighbors during the Great Recession, we were not left untouched, as evidenced by massive layoffs in many sectors. In short order, I found myself freshly unemployed.

Panicking, I embarked on an aggressive — and ultimately needless — fire sale of my possessions. Anything I deemed frivolous, from tools to my John Deere to my Mark VII, were all sold to create some sort of financial cushion for my family and I. It was all unnecessary, of course — the company had provided me with a decent severance package and finding work again was a relatively uncomplicated matter — but I certainly didn’t think so at the time.

Finding another Mark VII in the Great White North is proving to be tough. Most have either been hacked up for Mustang projects or returned themselves to the earth in the form of iron oxide. Most that remain are sticked at gonzo prices. I am bowed, however, and my Google Chrome search history remains littered with Mark VII inquiries. I will find another good one.

Sold, stolen, or wrecked (we’ll open up the criteria a bit there), just about every gearhead has a story of the one that got away. What’s yours? And if you see an ad for a good, clean, ’88 or ‘89 Mark VII LSC, fire me a DM on Instagram or Twitter. I can’t promise a finder’s fee … but I can promise a good story or two.