A while back, Finnish Mobilisti – a traditional classic car magazine – sparked some discussion when it devoted an entire cover to Leonid Brezhnev, the bushy-browed statesman who led the Communist Party of the Soviet Union from 1966 to 1982. While younger car enthusiasts might not be able to tell Uncle Leonid apart from magazine’s founder K.L.B. on Mobilisti’s cover, this nostalgic throwback to the golden ‘1980s left many older readers bewildered — as those years of Soviet power in the neighborhood still remain vivid in their memories.
Mr. Brezhnev didn’t land on the cover of a Finnish automotive history magazine for no reason. The issue featured a detailed and well-researched article about the Soviet leader’s love of cars. And amusingly enough, Leonid was nothing but a devoted American car enthusiast!
Reading that Mobilisti article recently brought back a flood of memories—especially the immense frustration I felt when Uncle Leonid’s earthly journey came to an end on November 10, 1982, and news of his passing spread across the world.
Finnish President Mauno Koivisto, likely with all sincerity and without any intention of appeasing our eastern neighbor, solemnly stated on television that “the Finnish people join the nations of the Soviet Union in honoring the memory of a great statesman and a friend of Finland.” Given the geopolitical climate of the time, this meant that Finnish TV — both of our two channels — immediately pulled all entertainment programming and replaced it with high culture and serious news content more appropriate for this great national mourning.
Unfortunately, November 11, 1982 — the day Brezhnev’s death was officially announced — happened to be a Thursday. And for kids like me, born in the mid-1970s, Thursdays were a big deal! That was the night when the alternate TV channel (what’s now TV2) aired Pätkis (something like “Shorty” in English), a 45-minute block of multiple short animated children’s shows as part of MTV Finland’s programming. This was a time when cartoons weren’t available all day, every day, let alone on three dedicated children’s channels as these days.
So there I was, that Thursday, November 11, 1982, rushing inside, excitedly switching on the TV — by pressing an actual button on the set, since my only experience with a remote control was from a borrowed VCR, and even that had a remote that was physically tethered by a long cable. I plopped down on the couch, eagerly waiting for my weekly dose of cartoons… I think The Smurfs was the first show on Pätkis back then, if I remember correctly.
But what the hell was this?! Instead of cartoons, the screen showed still images of epic landscapes, accompanied by melancholic classical music, and a notice that we were now in a period of national mourning for some old Soviet geezer.. oops, I mean old Soviet leader, who, to a seven-year-old Finnish kid, meant absolutely nothing. I was furious! “How dare you?!”
From that moment on, there was no way anyone was going to change my opinion of the Soviet Union — not even the Finlandized geography books that tried their best to paint a glowing picture of our glorious eastern neighbor’s never-ending progress and endless golden wheat fields with happy workers living the best times of their lives under the Soviet regime.
Later on, I came to share Uncle Leonid’s passion for American cars though.