This picture was taken circa 1958-59, at the family home in Ottawa Canada. That’s a 5 or 6 year old me sitting in front of the toboggan, with my older sisters behind me. My dad’s 1957 Chevy Bel-Air four door sedan is in the background, with a bunch of skis on the roof. Obviously, a fun day in the snow, at home and on the hills. But, as was typical back then, mom stayed at home preparing the evening meal.
Great shot. As a northern kid, I can smell the hot chocolate already! Actually, that wooden toboggan would probably qualify for a CC writeup these days.
The tail end of the 57 Chevy makes this a great picture, and your sister’s matching coat makes it even better.
It would be great fun to pull into a full-service station with one of these Tri-Five’s. In my childhood these were ubiquitous, but we were a Chrysler-Rambler dealer, or as it said on the sign “Chrysler-Plymouth” and big ‘R’ Rambler. As the poor starved stepchild Plymouth recedes in even my memory, we have a generation of drivers now who never saw a dealership. However, Studebaker, Hudson, Packard, Rambler (and all AMC’s), DeSoto,Pontiac, Saturn, Mercury, all British-Leyland, and many I’ve probably forgotten, have come and gone, yet here I am, on a website dedicated to the proposition that all are redeemable. How great is that?
Great picture and car(I’m a 57 model)
What I’d love to know is, with all that snow, how is that car looking so clean? I remember cars in the winter just covered in grayish-white road salt.
@syke. When a heavy snow starts to melt off the sheet metal,it has a cleansing effect..That looks like fresh snow.
In the real cold climates, salting the roads is just a waste of money.
Wow…cc we have a lot in common. I turned 7 in 1960,and grew up in Ontario. My Dad had a green 57 Chevy {ours was a 210} .My Mom was a British war bride,and she also learned to drive on a 51 Studebaker, three on the tree.
Interesting coincidences indeed. My mom was not a war bride, however. My parents were married in 1937.
Here’s a pic of my Mom at the wheel of that Studebaker. I was only four when my Dad traded it in for the ’57 Chevy, so I don’t remember much about it.
I was told that my Mom had a fender bender with the Stude while learning to drive. She misjudged a left turn and bumped into the fence surrounding a cemetery. The cemetery was right across the street from the dealership where my Dad bought the ’57 Chevy.
Here is a picture of the car my mom picked out to replace out old, worn-out and totally rusted out Chevrolet Biscayne. The car pictured is one I still have.