Even in Istanbul - Memories of a Young Boy and Cars

If I had taken Leif to Istanbul when he was any age from three to twelve, or any other city in the world, and he had seen this display, we would not have been able to move him from the spot. How he loved little metal car models. He had a HUGE collection of Matchbox cars, which he loved to examine, play with, and compare. As an adult, he still had his metal black Lamborghini model.

I took this picture of the outside display at a store behind the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. I couldn't help but think of him and wish he'd been there so I could tease him a bit about it . . . and watching him pick up various cars and start his usual long dissertations about their various merits.

I can picture him as a child surrounded on the floor by all his cars . . . and planes . . . and ships . . . and space ships. I remember his Hot Wheels sets and speedways. How that boy loved vehicles of all kinds.

Leif and His Home-made Matchbox Car Play Board - Sagamihara, Japan - July 1980 - Age 5

These days, kids can buy all kinds of fancy equipment for their little Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars. Some of that was available when Leif was small, too, but it wasn't what he really wanted and most of it was beyond his "budget," so he creatively made his own. This was a sort of city or traffic/street board he made to play on with his little cars. He used a couple of big pieces of poster board and markers to do it, and he had many hours of fun with it. He and his friends in the sort of "court" we lived in enjoyed it together, too. He wanted me to take a picture of him with it, but he wanted to show how big it was so he lay down beside it (in his pajamas) and put a car on it, too.

Leif had a lot of Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars, as well as ships and airplanes, and he loved to play with them. I know his imagination was always thinking up some grand story.

This was typical of my boys. They were very creative kids, always making something or figuring out how to use something in a new way.

This "play board" also reminds me of a project he had when he was in third grade at Red Hill Elementary School in Honolulu. He was invited to be in a class of "gifted underachieving boys," taught by a wonderful young man who knew just how to get them interested and motivated. Rather than loading these smart boys down with more of the same paperwork they hated, he challenged them with projects they could really enjoy.

The first one was to write exact "recipes" (instructions) for how to make an ice cream sundae, so good that someone who didn't know what an ice cream sundae was could make one, even an alien from outer space.

He told the boys that he would bring in the ingredients, as they wrote them, and proceed to make them EXACTLY as they had written the instructions. Leif got quite a laugh out of this procedure, because the first "recipe" began, "Take ice cream," and the teacher said, "Where should I take it?"

Then it said, "Scoop out two scoops,' so the teacher plopped two scoops on the table. The boys were roaring with laughter and said, "Not on the table," but the teacher said, "Well, you didn't tell me where to put them." They said, "In the bowl," and he replied, "What bowl? You didn't say anything about a bowl."

Well, you get the picture. They finally did get the instructions right and they all got to eat their sundaes out of BOWLS, with SPOONS, and the boys had learned something valuable about writing instructions.

This played into the next assignment, which was to invent and design a board game. It had to be a real, playable game, with a real, usable "board," and they had to write out all the game instructions. These third grade boys started out thinking this would be an easy project, and their heads were filled with grandiose schemes. They soon found out it was far harder than they thought it would be. They did get to work in teams. I think Leif worked with his friend Michael, who was a very good artist. Some of the teams never did really finish the project. Leif and Michael did, and their game was some kind of outer space adventure. Unfortunately, they left it at school with the teacher and never brought it home, so I don't have any pictures of it.

Leif loved that class and it was the one time during the school day when he was thoroughly motivated, proving that school CAN motivate boys like him with the right approach, but hardly ever does.

Unfortunately, the program was so successful with these boys that the next year the school hired a "gifted teacher" to institute an official program. That was a disaster for Leif and he did not participate, because the new teacher first of all used only academic/IQ giftedness as the criteria for inclusion. The IQ part Leif surpassed, far beyond the required number, but the school grades part he did not, and he hated just doing more and more homework and paperwork. So, a program that had been wonderful for him in the third grade became a failure for him in fourth.

However, he remained creative at home, drawing, building models, thinking up stories, and so on.

The Boy Who Loved Cars

It's no exaggeration to say that Leif loved cars and motorcycles. He was fascinated with cars from babyhood. From a very young age, he always noticed sports cars and knew their names.

Just look at this photo of him when he was four years old in January 1979 at the wheel of his dad's Ford Taunus Coupe (a model from sometime in the 1970s). He had an eye for beautiful, sporty cars from the very beginning, and treasured his large collection of Matchbox cars of every kind and description. In those days, kids could buy Matchbox cars for about 35-50 cents at the Post Exchange, which was a satisfying way for Leif to spend his small amount of spending money. He had ships and planes, too, but cars were always in there in profusion.

At the time this photo was taken, we were living in Sachsen bei Ansbach, a small village near the cities of Ansbach and Nurnberg in Germany. Peter W. used this car to commute to work and the boys rarely got to ride in it. Partly it was because it was not a convenient car for a family, only having two doors, and partly because the car didn't have shoulder straps in the back seat and we had to get some kind of weird aftermarket harness things for the boys to wear if they were sitting back there . . . and they weren't allowed to ride in the front seat.

The other cars we had during that period in Sachsen were the blue Ford Pinto station wagon we had purchased in 1973 which was totaled in the accident I had in October 1978, a used gold Opel Diplomat, which wasn't in great condition, and a light blue used Mercedes sedan. None of those cars interested Leif much, but the Taunus did. That was partly because he didn't get to ride in it often but mostly because he perceived it to be a more sporty and stylish car, which it was. Once in awhile his dad would let him sit in the driver's seat and pretend, and he was so excited about that.