It rarely ran.
His Italian name was Giacomo. We all called him Uncle Gio. He sold used cars.
I got my first car from him--a '56
Chevy that leaked a quart of oil every five blocks and slipped from first to third (sometimes third to first) for no apparent reason.
I loved it.
Uncle Gio made sausage and peppers in an enormous cast iron skillet and told stories that always seemed to involve the IRS.