If Cars Could Talk (the beginning of the story)

    When I was fifteen I learned to drive a standard shift without using the clutch to change gears.The cutest boy I had ever seen in my entire life taught me in an old ’55 Chevy truck that was painted primer gray. He had the most beautiful twinkling green eyes that just smiled when he looked at you. His hair was so dark brown that it was almost black, but not quite, and his cheeks were always rosy, just like Santa Clause. He was one of the ‘bad boys’ in town. I had so much fun with him.

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            Cars play a significant role in our everyday lives and many of us go so far as to name ours. I currently drive a 1994 Chevrolet Silverado Truck and she is packing 345,000 plus miles on her beautiful teal green body. I pet her on the dash each morning when I crank her and tell her how gorgeous she is and just how important she is to me. She thanks me by continuing to run, actually she purrs like a contented kitten. I love my truck and cannot imagine trying to drive another vehicle; I do believe that greenie, that happens to be her name, would get jealous if I did.

            My memories of our family cars goes way back to when I was a just a young child and, the fact that they all stand out for me surely must mean that they were very important in my life. I had to ask my dad about the few cars before my memory kicks in but I will let you know which ones they are and how they played a role in my writing this book.

            Family trips made many of these memories as we rode on the back dash to sleep on long outings. Many times we slept in the floorboard with a pillow and blanket for comfort. The cars of yesteryear were built for comfort and had more than ample room for a kid to stretch out and lay comfortably for sleep. Most of these memories are from back before seatbelt laws so don’t be alarmed, we weren’t breaking any laws, I promise.

            Some folks would go so far as to say that our cars fit our personalities; I certainly believe that cars have their own personalities. Some are temperamental

while others are high maintenance and still others are just plain cranky and you have treat them with special care in order for them to run. There are some with sleek shiny bodies and then there are those who are full of rust and the holes to go with it. We have cars, trucks, jeeps, and suv’s that pique our interest and keep us trolling the streets and highways in style. Some vehicles take us mudding, some pull boats (travel trailers, campers), and some make their lives just getting us back and forth to work. Some vehicles are even multi-talented and do more than one task. Those are the ones that I am talking about here. The ones that took us to school, to buy groceries, pay bills, the doctor, dance class, baseball, vacations, and last but not least, to work. I am talking about the workhorses of all the classes of vehicles, the family car.

            Now, some of the cars I am about to expose to you will have many more memories attached to them than others. After all, some of them were what my mom and dad drove when I was just a baby. There are others however that will be so full of memories that one would wonder just how long they were a part of our family, for a couple of ‘em it was a long, long time. We just couldn’t stand to let a good car go. It also helped tremendously that my dad was what he called ‘a shade tree mechanic’, that means he worked on our cars himself. In fact, I was a grown woman with kids of my own before I ever had to pay someone to fix my car. I was appalled that anyone could or would ask for so much money to put on parts that I knew cost practically nothing to buy! I had been to the parts house many times with my dad and had even pulled my own parts off of other cars at what were known as ‘you pull it’ junk yards (they prefer wrecking yards for their moniker though).

The first family cars

            My mom and dad got married in August of 1952. Daddy had the car that I have heard him mention many times that he wished he could find another one to restore, it was a ’49 Chrysler. I asked him what size motor was in her and he called it a 119 horse engine (I don’t know exactly what that means because that was language used before I became somewhat knowledgeable about motors). He said she had four doors and was light green in color. I don’t really know anything else about her except that she made such an impression on my dad that he forever wanted another one in his life, that says a lot in itself.

            Dad was in the army and stationed in Chicago when they found out that I was going to enter their lives. Of course they had no idea that I would be girl since ultrasound hadn’t even been invented yet but they knew that a child would be born. So when he was discharged in 1955 they loaded up their car and headed back to Texas to raise me. All of their family was in Texas so I imagine that was another good reason to come home. I know that momma was sick all the way back (sorry mom, I am sure I made your trip miserable). So, home we came to Longview to await my arrival. I was born on August 16, 1955 at Good Shepherd Hospital and when they brought me home it was in a ’51 Plymouth. She was a white four door and boasted an in-line six for her motor. So, now I know what I took my first ride in and also why I have had an affinity for Chrysler products my entire life.

            These two cars do not live in my memory. They are the ones that daddy told me about and this is all that I know of them. I am sure I would have loved them had I ever had the opportunity to meet them. For now, I shall just have to wait until I meet them one day in car heaven for I am sure it will happen. Anything that can carry as much personality and responsibility as a vehicle must surely have a heaven awaiting their demise, I simply must believe that.

Now my memory kicks in

            The first car that I actually remember was a ’58 Plymouth (are you beginning to see the pattern of Chrysler products here?). She was baby blue and had a white roof; it wasn’t vinyl or anything, just painted white. She was also a four door and ran an in-line six cylinder under her hood. I remember that she had the biggest, prettiest fins in the back that I had ever seen. They seemed to be a mile high to my small mind at the time. This was also the first car I ever drove, well sort of anyway. I sat on daddy’s lap while he worked the pedals and let me steer around a few blocks right close to home. I felt like a queen sitting there with my dad; I felt smart as a whip steering that old car at only five years old. Yep, those were the days. I will forever remember her as the first car I ever drove.

            The next car to enter our lives was an old ’59 Dodge. Daddy bought her because she had a 318 engine and he felt he could make a good car out of her. Well, she spent more time parked on the side of the road than she did anywhere else. I can still see her forlorn face out there by the front ditch, poor old thing just didn’t have what it took. I don’t know, maybe she had some really uncaring owners before she came to live with us. Maybe something happened at the factory where she was born to keep her from ever being all she could have been. I do know that we didn’t part with her lightly, now did we just call her junk. We held on to her for quite a while and daddy used her parts to repair another car. So, in reality, I guess you could say that she was reincarnated so to speak. Eventually though, daddy had to get rid of what was left of her. I missed her anyway.

            After this, all the other cars in our lives live very vividly in my mind. The memories will be packed in each one like sardines in a can. We lived our lives with these next entries, we grew with them, and we got in trouble with them. These next cars were really our friends and our confidants as we entered our teen years. They kept us safe as we did foolish kid things, they ran races, and saved face for us. They also took places that we weren’t supposed to go and brought us safely back home again. They chase boys for me and chased girls for my younger brother. They went on picnics and school outings. They saw football games and teacher meetings. These next cars were more than special to me, they were my family.

                    to be continued.....