(Welcome Gene, our new Wednesday COALer) College. For many, it’s a time of discovery, growth, and, often, the urgent need for affordable and reliable transportation. As a budding engineering student entering my second year, an out-of-state internship in Indiana beckoned. This meant I needed my own set of wheels – something practical enough to handle the commute to Ft Wayne, yet budget-friendly enough for a student scraping by. My dad, a loyal Chrysler man, left the car search to me. While I knew his preference for Dodge Omnis, I was determined to explore other options.
This was the pre-internet era. Finding a used car involved poring over newspaper classifieds. That’s where I stumbled upon an ad for a 1980 Honda Civic GL. Frankly, I didn’t know much about this model, but the price was right, so I decided to take a look.
My initial impression wasn’t overwhelming. It seemed a bit small, almost too “cute,” for my taste. However, this was the second generation Honda Civic, a more mature and refined evolution from the quirky hatchback that Honda had introduced to the US in the 70s. Having spent time driving my dad’s 1981 Dodge Omni, stepping into the Civic was a revelation. The dashboard was a model of simplicity and clarity, boasting full instrumentation, including a tachometer. The controls were logically placed, clearly marked, and operated with a smoothness that the Omni could only dream of. The ergonomics were, simply put, excellent. While we might take these features for granted today, Honda had already nailed it 40 years ago, while American automakers like Chrysler were still grappling with the automotive malaise of the era.
Driving the Civic compared to the Omni was night and day. It was equipped with a slick 5-speed manual transmission, a light clutch, and responsive manual steering. The eager 1500cc engine was a gem, revving willingly and providing surprising pep for its size. These characteristics were hallmarks of Honda at the time, and I quickly fell under the Civic’s spell. Buying this car was no longer a question; it was a certainty.
Of course, this 1980 Civic wasn’t brand new. It was six years old with 75,000 miles on the odometer, and its age was beginning to show. Operating on a tight college budget, my first order of business was replacing the nearly bald P155/80R13 tires with the most affordable “Guardsmen” radial tires from Sears. A college student’s upgrade priorities also kicked in – I swapped out the factory stereo for a cassette player and amplifier. And, living in the Midwest, I had to tackle some bodywork to combat the ever-present threat of road salt-induced rust.
Despite these minor issues, this silver Civic became my pride and joy throughout my college and graduate school years. It reliably transported me to work that summer in Ft Wayne, Indiana. During the school year, it mostly served weekend duty, occasionally seeing action in autocross events (SCCA Solo II) held in campus parking lots. Those Sears Guardsmen tires would howl in protest as I pushed the little Civic through the cones, a grin plastered across my face. Summers in the Civic were filled with memorable road trips across the Midwest, including an unforgettable all-night dash from Chicago to Columbus, followed by a bleary-eyed drive to Cedar Point amusement park just hours later. Another highlight was a mother-son trip to Boston and New England, traversing scenic upstate New York.
The Civic was simply a blast to drive – agile, maneuverable, and with an engine that seemed to thrive on being pushed. While not particularly fast, the harmonious way all its components worked together made the driving experience incredibly rewarding and fun. I became convinced that Hondas of the 1980s possessed some kind of magic. So, when Honda recruiters visited Ohio State’s campus, I was eager to join their ranks. Their new factory and tech center in Marysville, Ohio, was conveniently located just north of campus. Unfortunately, Honda didn’t select my resume, and instead, General Motors (GM) scooped me up. I had interned at GM the previous summer (with my Civic discreetly parked far away in the employee lot), and my youthful car enthusiasm must have swayed them to hire me.
Upon graduation, as I prepared to relocate to Michigan for my new job at GM, I wrestled with the dilemma of keeping my beloved Honda while needing something more “company appropriate” – meaning, a GM or American-made vehicle – for work. Sadly, the rust that had been a minor annoyance from the beginning was now aggressively consuming the Civic. The rear floorboards had rusted through completely, leaving only the carpet separating rear passengers’ feet from the road below. Every bump in the road resulted in pieces of the underbody breaking off, leaving a trail of rust debris. It was no longer safe to drive reliably. My dad, having moved on from his Omni (and Chrysler products in general) and now driving a Ford Escort, offered to lend me the Escort and take possession of the Civic until I could find a suitable GM car.
I never learned the ultimate fate of my cherished Honda Civic. Dad drove it for a while, and then it likely ended up in a junkyard. I missed it dearly, especially when driving Dad’s utterly forgettable ’88 Ford Escort. Despite having a 5-speed manual, the Escort was a crude and clunky machine compared to the refined little Civic. I couldn’t wait to return the Escort to him. My experience with that 1980s Honda Civic GL left an indelible mark. It was my first real taste of Honda’s engineering philosophy – a focus on thoughtful design, quality construction, and a genuinely enjoyable driving experience, all wrapped in an affordable and practical package. It was a stark contrast to many of the domestic offerings of the time and cemented my appreciation for well-built Japanese automobiles.
