In January 2003, I served as the editor of a newspaper’s weekly automotive section. Desperate for a column topic, I recalled a recent press release from Castrol featuring Irv Gordon, a retired New York teacher who had purchased a 1966 Volvo P1800S for $4,150. Gordon didn’t just buy the car—he committed to driving it relentlessly.
When Gordon passed away in November 2018 at age 78, his Volvo had logged 3,260,257 miles. The car now resides in the Volvo Museum in Gothenburg, Sweden. Gordon’s journey began with a simple goal: to keep his Volvo running, and running, and running.
In 2013, he reached 3,000,000 miles during a trip to Alaska’s Kenai Peninsula. His disciplined maintenance routine, outlined in the Castrol press release, became the foundation of my 2003 column. Gordon’s approach blended practicality with a touch of whimsy—he used synthetic fluids in most systems but insisted on petroleum oil in the engine, joking,
“It’s a tribute to all those dinosaurs who laid down their lives to give us oil.”While I preferred Mobil 1, Gordon’s reasoning was undeniably compelling.
The column was syndicated widely, including by Newsday in New York. Three months later, my phone rang. “Steve? This is Irv Gordon!” he said. I assumed he was calling to thank me for the column. Instead, he invited me to lunch—in New York, just blocks from the newspaper office.
Gordon had driven his Volvo from Long Island to meet me, proving that his car wasn’t just a machine; it was a testament to endurance. The lunch conversation and subsequent drive in his metallic-green Volvo left a lasting impression. The car’s construction—largely metal—felt significant, hinting at the durability that would define its legacy.
Gordon’s story isn’t just about miles. It’s about the intersection of passion, discipline, and engineering. His 1966 Volvo P1800S, a model cherished by enthusiasts, became a symbol of what happens when a car is built to last—and when its owner refuses to let it quit.