From Blue Oval to Bowtie
Everyone has a passion in life for one certain thing - that spark that speaks deeply to their soul. For me, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve absolutely loved automobiles. Not just as complex machines, but as rolling works of art. Most people see cars simply as transportation; I’ve always seen them as works of passion sculpted from aluminum, steel, and chrome. The artistic way the key features of the waterline, the tumblehome, the greenhouse, and the belt-line define a vehicle's overall aesthetics and proportions captive me. My fascination started as a kid, sitting beside my dad as he rolled through the gears in his perfectly kept vehicles. He had a knack for finding vehicles that turned heads… Gran Torinos, Mustangs, Lincolns, and Jaguars. As a young man, he’d toss me the keys all the time. Borrowing one of Dad’s cars for a date made me feel like I’d been handed the keys to his confidence itself. Those moments shaped me, and they’re what steered me toward a lifelong career with Ford - engineering and building the very vehicles that sparked that love.
But even as a loyal Ford man, with family roots now five generations deep going back to Henry himself, I couldn’t ignore the Corvette dealership I drove by every day on my way to work. Every. Single. Day. For decades, that glass showroom on Michigan Avenue stood as a silent temptation. I’d slow down just a little, long enough to admire the lines, the stance, the pure audacity of all-American V8 pushrod performance sitting proudly in the showroom. Just when I thought the designers and engineers at GM couldn’t make the model any more impressive, they did. Generation after generation. It wasn’t jealousy or betrayal - it was admiration. The Corvette was, to me, a rival artist’s masterpiece, something to be respected even if it wasn’t stamped with my family’s adopted crest: the Blue Oval. Years went by, years of hard work, dedication to my employer, and long trips on the road both domestic and international. My appreciation for great vehicles only deepened, and every now and then I’d mention the Corvette dream in passing - always half joking, always assuming it wasn’t meant to be.
Along the way came my beautiful bride, with her usual blend of charm and mischief, nudging me to finally land that dream I’d kept parked in the back of my mind. She subtly reminded me that life’s too short to admire beauty from a distance when you can experience it firsthand. Just like when I summoned the confidence and asked her to be mine, and she said yes. Now, when I slide behind the wheel of my dream car, I can’t help but feel blessed beyond measure - not just for the car itself, but for the life and love that made it all possible. I’m grateful every day for the passion that’s guided me, for the artistry that continues to inspire me, and most of all, for my beautiful Jennifer - the real driving force behind every dream I’ve ever had the joy to chase and make a reality.
