Tuesday, December 10, 2024
This past week I was driving along when I saw something I had not witnessed in some time. No, I am not talking about witnessing someone obeying the speed limit, though granted that would indeed be an unusual sighting. This occurrence was even more rare. Just as I came around a turn, there it was up ahead of me, cruising down the thoroughfare like a giant steam ship crossing the Atlantic. It was an authentic early 1970s model station wagon. It was a Ford Country Squire.
My mind immediately raced backward to the days of my youth when a station wagon was a common sight and the vehicle many parents utilized as their “war wagon.” It could transport Dad to work and, with its faux wood paneling, look good doing it. It would haul all the groceries Mom could cook in a week, take the neighborhood boys (including the equipment) to baseball practice, and then the folks could use it to go out on Saturday night. It was the be-all, do-all form of transportation and was immensely popular with American families.
I remember riding in our station wagon and all the possible seating arrangements that were available. We young boys commonly sat in the very back, facing backward, looking at the world disappear behind us. Station wagons were so wide and they provided much more room for the passengers than a sedan. The extra space prevented my sister and I from having to sit next to each other and complain to our mom that we were “touching” or that one of us had violated the “space” of the other.
At the time, pickups were not something urban dwellers drove; they were utilitarian instruments for workmen and farmers. The station wagon provided the space to haul all the kids in one car and to sit comfortably while doing it. It allowed us to pick up bigger items from the hardware store and to pack everything strapped down to the rooftop for a weeklong vacation. They were cool, they were comfortable, and they were powerful. And goodness, they were wide and long!
After about the age of 12, station wagons were no longer cool to me. They were a “parents” car, not something built low to the ground, sleek and cool like a Mustang, Camaro, or a Chevelle. With each passing year, it would seem the station wagon became less and less a hot property for the younger generation and its luster began to diminish.
With the coming of the oil embargo in ‘73 and the restrictions the government legislated on engine emissions, the automobile world was forced to change. The handwriting was on the wall, effectively ending the age of huge and powerful auto engines, and the station wagon began its descent to nonrelevance. Today, no such thing as a station wagon exists, having been replaced by the SUV, the crossover, and the pickup.
But last week, for just a moment, it sure felt nice to see that old station wagon. The one I saw looked to be in good shape and running like a top. It made me smile, thinking of the many miles I had been transported in a similar way so many years ago. It called me back to my youth and a simpler time. I flashed back to trips with friends and family vacations: A time when there were no iPads or video games to occupy our time. I recalled the kids’ games we played in the very back cargo area as we drove down the road, and the rear door, which would open both horizontally or vertically when we got ready to get out. Maybe it wasn’t a better time or maybe it was; either way, it was a part of a lot of people’s lives.
Thought for the day: The best things in life are the people you love, the places you go, and the memories you make.
Until next time…I will keep ridin’ the storm out!
