My Dad’s First Car
1961
Philadelphia, PA
It seemed like we waited forever for him to return from the
car dealer. But finally, we heard a honk
and looked up and there was my dad, peaking his head out the window as he drove
passed our house. He waved. We jumped up
with excitement and ran after him as he drove to the corner and turned into our
alleyway. It was a two-toned green
Plymouth. Both shades of green were
ugly. The car had fins and big, white
rimmed tired. I was so excited. Our world had just opened up quite a bit. We
didn’t have to take the bus everywhere.
At the time, there were 8 of us. So my parents and two kids sat up front. Patricia, the youngest, sat on my mother’s
lap. And the other four sat on the back
seat. Sometimes, one of my grandparents
came with us. So the adults sat up
front, four of us sat on the back seat and two of us stood, holding in to the
front seat headrests. The standers were
usually the smaller kids. They didn’t
obstruct my father’s view as much.
In 1963, he bought a station wagon and then all of us finally
got a seat in the car.
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