I first recognized that I was alive while living at 2010 Greendale Drive, Champaign. Indeed a great place for a kid to be introduced to the world located on a cul-de-sac and with a delightful park and pool just across from our backyard. Coming out the side door one day, I saw Dad pull in with a gleaming, brand-new '64 Galaxie.
While the sleek, long, white, two-door sedan was an impressive set of wheels, the glow on Dad's face was way beyond the joy of a new car. Even a 4-year-old boy knew it was more. Dad said, "It's the first new car I ever bought. I'm tired of working on junky cars."
My mom and dad had struggled mightily in their early years in marrying young, and I was the youngest of four kids. Eventually, Dad went to work out of the Carpenters Hall in 1960 and began running jobs for English Brothers General Contractors. With the great job, life was better for our family. Now then to practical matters, Dad may have let the new car fever get away from him, because while he felt the roar of the 390 V-8 on his test drive, he overlooked that it was a two-door car for a six-person family. Not only lacking doors, there was no air conditioning.
Mom never complained as she recognized the significance of the car to Dad, so we improvised by buying bags of ice and sucking on the cubes on long trips, or in the case of my brother trying to slip one in my shirt. I got to be co-pilot in front while my sisters and brother fought over imaginary boundaries in the back.
By today's standards, it wasn't safe at all, as I often stood right next to Dad, and if he braked hard, his arm came out to hold me back. Dad drove very hard, and on long trips, he would let the gas gauge get down near E before stopping. On one trip back to Colorado to visit Mom's family, Dad was pressing it close with the needle near E. In my 4-year-old brain, it was time to pull out the, "'I have to go to the bathroom' trick," and we did stop soon after that. The only problem was as we approached the bathroom, I realized I didn't have to go. My ruse would be discovered! Dad wasn't sore when I barely produced anything, but I knew that trick wouldn't work again!
It is fun to look back at how your vehicles change as your needs change. So, it happened one day that Dad pulled up in a Ford Country Squire Station Wagon. It was used but had four doors and air conditioning! Now we were really in business, because my brother was older and didn't go with us anymore, which left my sisters to fight over the back seat and lobby Dad for their favorite radio stations. Of course, in those days, 89 WLS played at Centennial Pool -- now known as the Sholem Aquatic Center -- and was a favorite among kids. In the wagon, I rode in the back, and even on long trips or packed for camping, there was always room for my slender frame.
Dad started dealing with Ferguson Ford in Tuscola and dealt directly with the owner, Ned. He traded the used wagon for a new '71. This 1971 Country Squire was our last wagon with the faux wood paneling, but it was geared for power. By the mid '70s, I had my learners permit and Mom agreed to let me drive the wagon. As soon as I was out of city limits, I did what Dad did and floored the gas pedal. The Ford roared to life, much to the chagrin of my mother, who cried, "Douglas Michael!" I slowed down and headed straight home.
A few years later, I was a licensed driver, and Mom and I embarked on another road trip to see Grandma. Dad had visited Ned a few weeks before and came home in a '77 Ford Country Squire. It was burnt orange metallic with decorative hubcaps on big Michelin tires. After the rise in gas prices and pollution awareness, this car was lightyears ahead, with all options including cruise control and with lower gearing for better fuel mileage.
As we sailed smoothly down the highway, I was reminded we had come a long way from Dad's clunkers!