Four Wheel Friday

  I admit that I’ve had other things on my mind lately, mostly being obsessed with COVID19. I thought I needed to change it up, so started going through my old photos, planning on sharing some of the funniest ones. As usual, I got distracted. But in a good sort of way.

So, to get your mind off of other things, I present to you the various modes of transportation my family took advantage of, both before and after I was born.

The back of this photo was titled “New car 1953”. 

 The back of this one reads “Second new car of 1955”. One of those dates is wrong, I suspect. In one of those two years, there was a fire in my parents’ garage, or so Mom always told me, and the fire destroyed their brand-new car, forcing them to purchase another new one. I should have probably verified this story with my brother or sister as they were alive at the time. You might have to check back for an update on that whole incident. 

This was obviously a different car, but also dated 1955. Also, obviously not taken in Wisconsin. 

 Then there was the beloved Greenbrier, which was actually red. I thought I blogged about that once before, but I couldn’t find it. I might have to go into detail on that another time.   

 Dad’s first pickup and camper. I loved that camper. I know I’ve blogged about that before. Ah, so many memories in both that truck and the camper. 

 More memories in that camper, with my sister Pat and our dog Mac, with the second pickup truck.  

 And then this fine feat of engineering, my mom’s AMC Matador. How lucky I was to be able to drive this automobile to school when I was a senior, on days when Mom didn’t need it. The only uglier car was the AMC Gremlin, nope, the AMC Pacer was probably more hideous.   

 Finally, my dad’s last truck, a big new Ford extended cab which we nicknamed Big Red. Shown here towing dad’s fifth wheel. He bought the trailer a year before the truck, so ordered that color pickup just to match the camper. 

By the way, when I wasn’t gifted the keys to the Matador, I was occasionally granted use of Big Red. One time, in high school, after promising Mom that I wouldn’t drive anyone else around in the truck, I piled a group of friends in the bed of it for some admirable reason. Of course, somehow Dad found out. I suppose in the same way I usually found out when my kids did things like that.