for most of the 1980s my father had a 1949 Chevrolet Carryall Suburban … as a daily driver (this itself is a separate story). Starting this vehicle was a skill in itself. One day when I am perhaps 9 or 10, my mother needs to go somewhere and for reasons that escape me, her usual vehicle isn’t available. So she attempts to start the Chevy, which is having none of it since the intricate sequence of starter, clutch, choke, and applying gas the the right moments isn’t happening. After several minutes she gives up and walks back to the house. I give it a go and in short order I discover that the starter motor is all too happy to propel the vehicle short distances. Thankfully, I find this a bit startling so I quit before the starter and/or battery release the magic smoke.
I miss that vehicle - couldn’t really manage highway speeds, but it was relatively unique in the 1980s, would be doubly so now.