Fourth Saturday’s Loneliest Liberal: About the Panhard

Dad’s kind of car

By James Knudsen

“All that remains is the Panhard. But not for long. That is a story for next time...”
    Last month I ended my column with a sort of a cliff-hanger. I’d written about growing up in an ordinary town with unordinary cars, owned by an extraordinary father. I had planned to write about the final disposition of that vehicle, because it’s a good story. But the story became more complex and more completed. It recent days I’ve heard much, from many, about just how extraordinary he was. But first, let’s review that Panhard.

What is a Panhard? I gave a thumbnail sketch last month of the Panhard Dyna Z. It’s not so obscure that one can’t learn more about it from Wikipedia, so I won’t bore you with mechanical details again. But historical details I left out. The company began as Panhard et Levassor around 1890. Its founders were Rene Panhard and Emile Levassor, 19th century industrialists who became major players in France’s nascent automotive industry along with Armand Peugeot and Louis Renault. In the first half of the 20th century Panhard et Levassor produced a range of cars for the luxury market. In the 1930’s they were known for their silent, if smoky, sleeve-valve engines and art-deco styling of the Dynamic.

    With regard to Dad’s car, which wore the California license plate OUI MME, it’s enough to know that it was Dad’s first French car. It was purchased new and picked up by his parents in France in the summer of 1957. They drove it to the port and I was told they were happy to be rid of it. Grandpère did not appreciate the column-shifted, four-speed transmission. From 1957 it performed various duties that included carrying a group of teachers up to the mountains to ski. This was accomplished with the assistance of one of the group sitting on the hood of the car to improve traction in the snow.

I know the person on the left, not sure about the other two.
The Panhard still wears its French license plate

The Panhard also gave Ray Bolger a ride home following a Hollywood Bowl event. And it hauled backpackers in to the Sierras.

My first memories of the car were of it no longer running. It sat in front of my parents’ first house on the corner of College and Manor for a few years. Later it lived in the garage of a rental property my parents owned. In the early seventies, Dad decided it was time to get the car running again. By 1974 it was attending Citroen Car Club events on a semi-annual basis. It even managed to win its class in the car show competition of the event. By 1982, I had mastered the intricacies of shifting its fragile transmission, and I drove it and my girlfriend – Moristotle & Co.’s July 24, 2013 interviewee Sharon MacMillan – to the prom.
    In recent years my sisters had begun asking me what was to be done with the Panhard. It had been sitting in the north end of the garage collecting dust. There is a small cadre of enthusiasts, but demand for post-war Panhards in the United States had never been great when they were in production and the death of the marque [brand] in 1967 had done nothing to increase it. I knew who I wanted to have the car and had mentioned it to my sister Morissa. She attempted to contact the buyer via email, but had no success. On October 11, 2014, I composed a letter to my buyer of choice, attached some photos of Dad and the car and popped it in the mail. Three days later I had the first of several phone conversations with Jay Leno.

Turns out, Jay Leno’s a fan, having already purchased a 1961 model. Following our first phone call I contacted Morissa to let her know what was in the works. I’d come to the belief, prior to phoning my sister, that making a pile of money from the transaction wasn’t the point. Finding a good home for Dad’s funny little car was what was important. And if some greater good could from it, so much the better. The establishment of a scholarship in Dad’s name would be the best use of any money derived from the sale of the car. When Mr. Leno called a few days later, it was he who suggested a donation to a charity. I quickly informed him that we were of like minds and he graciously offered to donate $5,000 to fund a scholarship.

    With the “sale” finalized, Morissa suggested that I have Dad brought to the house to take some pictures with his car before it was picked up to be taken to Southern California. On Wednesday a few of us gathered with Dad in the back yard, where the car had been staged. The day was November 5, 2014. In recent months Dad had lost interest in walking and then standing, so it was from his wheelchair that he took in his beloved “freak” for the last time. A week later Dad went into respiratory failure. He died at 10:55 pm, Thursday, November 13, 2014 in the local hospital.
    In the days since, the Facebook pages of my siblings, myself, and Dad’s own page, have been filled with remembrances. Some time ago I posted on Moristotle & Co. my perspective of Dad and his career as teacher. I’m gaining increased perspective with each post regarding his influence. In an effort to keep his influencing going, The Bon Mot, Morris Knudsen Scholarship has been established with funds from Mr. Leno and contributions from others.

The Panhard was the vehicle of Dad’s bachelor days. When one thinks of a bachelor car, a Dyna Z is not what instantly springs to mind. Four doors, not fast, not flashy, not the least bit impractical – I suppose it says something about him that he wanted a car that could carry friends, co-workers, students, and someday a family.

OUI MME, loaded on to the transporter
for its journey to a new home. November 7, 2014

Copyright © 2014 by James Knudsen