Being a real estate agent is a very interesting profession. Objectively, you are there to assist and provide professional advice to clients wanting to purchase or sell homes. Yet, I find myself connecting with people on a deeper level that goes beyond the surface of what I thought my job to be. Doing open houses is one of the greatest opportunities not only to greet new clients but also to converse with strangers. Houses attract people from all walks of life, with different stories, interests, and reasons for living in Salt Lake.
When I did the open house for our listing on Laird Ave., I was fortunate enough to meet the next-door neighbor, Nick. The conversation started as they all do, about the home. Quickly, I found myself talking about our similar interest in cars.
If I began this piece by saying he was ”interested” in cars, that would be a massive understatement.
Growing up, Nick wasn’t just keen on automobiles; he was practically enveloped in them. He told me about the times his family would pop over to the grocery store in their ’60s Mustang, or when he and his sister would cram themselves into the back of their parents' Austin-Healey to enjoy their summer days at the pool. These experiences carried into his teenage years when he jumpstarted the addiction by purchasing his first car. Another rusted 1953 Austin Healey that needed to be pulled out of a pasture with a tractor. This was the first step into his journey of restoring vehicles, not just being an admirer, a title with which I am still holding.
Years later, he began racing his vehicles just about anywhere he could without being arrested: rallies, Hillclimbs, track days. At this point in the conversation, I felt that this article wouldn’t do Nick's story justice, hearing these stories felt like I was reading a script for a Steve McQueen movie.
I asked Nick, of the two cars he currently owns, which one has the best story. He stated the MG was his father's car and has remained in the family for three generations; it’s like that family pet that never seems to pass away. He hopes to continue that legacy with his kids.
The way Nick talks about his cars is the same way a chef would describe his best dish.
“It delights all the senses. You hear the whine of the gears spinning and the rhythmic beat of the tappets and other engine parts intermingling with the exhaust note. You smell the hot oil and a distinct odor that defies explanation, but that all old cars seem to have. You see the road at the end of the long hood, and you feel it in the large steering wheel. It’s windy, and it’s loud, but those are the elements that make up a sports car. It’s fun.”
Owning old cars is like owning moving time machines; caring for them is a service. It takes special kinds of people to carve time out of their hectic lives to preserve pieces of history. I wanted to write this piece on Nick to highlight that everybody has a story to tell. Being an agent allows me to learn those stories. When you’re done reading this, you should make an effort to talk to your neighbors. You never know… They might just have something special to tell as well.
