This post by Blaine H. got me thinking about my grandfather’s 1966 Chevelle:
So here’s another photo of an epic road trip out west. This is my aunt Emmy and uncle Alex, my mother’s youngest siblings. They were 17 and 13 at the time. This was the only car my grandfather ever bought new, a 1966 Chevelle 300 with a six cylinder Power-glide. I remember this car from my early childhood, my grandmother (who did not drive) loved the Chevelle because it was the first car they’d had that was modern and didn’t have constant problems.
There is not a lot of happiness going on in this photo, my grandmother had died the previous year and my grandfather organized a road trip out west with the two children remaining at home. Hamilton to Vancouver was about 2,700 miles each way.
What he did not tell them was that one of the purposes of the trip was to meet a woman he had been corresponding with to assess her suitability for marriage. The woman turned out to be thoroughly unsuitable, including young children she had neglected to mention. My aunt remembers lots of driving, soggy camping, and an unpleasant scene in British Columbia. None of which was the car’s fault.