My Father’s Car

Some cars are built. Some cars are bought. And some cars become part of a family’s history.

Rhett’s Oval Beetle is one of those cars.

The story began decades ago when Rhett’s father owned the car, a VW that became part of his family’s life during a different era. Like many old Volkswagens, it eventually moved on, disappearing from daily life and becoming a memory.

For years, Rhett wondered where it ended up.

Then, after more than 30 years, he found it.

Hidden away on a property, buried beneath a mountain of blackberry bushes, the Beetle was almost completely swallowed by the Australian bush. Forgotten by the world, but never forgotten by the people who loved it.

What followed wasn’t just a restoration. It was a journey back through family history.

Rhett, his son Brodie, and his father worked together to bring the car back to life, carefully preserving the scars, character, and history that made the Beetle special. Instead of erasing its past, they chose to protect it.

The marks of time became part of the story.

The car wasn’t just a machine being rebuilt. It was a connection to memories, a reminder of where it came from, and a symbol of the things that get passed down through generations.

The journey eventually led to the car’s return to the VW community, where Rhett shared the story at Dubfreeze, an event he helped create to celebrate the same culture that had been part of his life for decades.

When we filmed Rhett’s story, we knew there was something special about it. It wasn’t just about an old Volkswagen found in the bush. It was about family, persistence, nostalgia, and the emotional connection people have with the things that carry our stories.

The response was something we never expected.

The film went on to become the first Purist film to reach 100,000 views worldwide, showing that a simple story about an old Beetle could connect with people far beyond the VW community.

Because for many people, cars are never just cars.

They are memories.

They are people.

They are chapters of our lives that we can still see, hear, and feel.

As Rhett says:

“They’re not just cars.”