Lots of childhood memories here.
With apologies to the famed lyricist Alan Jay Lerner, who penned those words as part of the “book” for the Broadway musical Camelot, that phrase could be used to sum up our family life in the early 1960s. In 1959, our family had moved to northern New Jersey, allowing mother an easy commute to her new job in nearby Morris Township.
By today’s standards, our three-bedroom home was on the small side, at less than 2,000 square feet, but it was the perfect size for the three of us and our weekday live-in housekeeper. Having two parents with full-time jobs made the latter a necessity, rather than a luxury. (In retrospect, our housekeeper was a genuine saint, having to put up with preteen me, but her Depression-era definition of a sandwich comprised a single slice of lunch meat placed between two slices of white bread, seasoned with a touch of mayonnaise. Not exactly the sort of mid-afternoon snack a growing boy might have wished for.)
The Morris Plains Borough School was a short fifteen minutes from home, so I typically walked to school, carrying my books and lunch (usually containing the aforementioned sandwich) in a Bugs Bunny-themed lunchbox. There were more than a few children of the same age in our neighborhood, so the walk to and from school was a group affair, with the usual kid high-jinks along the way.
These are going for big bucks today. Source: Mercari
One particular late-November school day remains etched in my memory, however. In the middle of Spanish period, our teacher, Senor del Rey, was called away from the classroom. A few minutes later, he returned, visibly shaken, and announced that school had been suspended for the rest of that Friday, with no further explanation. I was glad to enjoy an unaccustomed early start to the coming weekend until I returned home to see our housekeeper wiping her eyes and staring numbly at our TV screen as Walter Cronkite related the day’s tragic events in real time.
Televised images over the next three days only drove home the realization that Camelot had been swiftly and cruelly replaced by an alternate reality, one which seemed to add a continuing somber subtext to our insulated suburban lives. It was only a few weeks earlier that Dad and I had paid a return visit to Laurie Ford, trading in mom’s ’57 Chevy for her early Christmas present, a new 1964 Ford Galaxie 500 two-door hardtop.
Raven Black on the outside with a red vinyl bench-seat interior, the Galaxie’s new below-the-beltline styling for ’64 suggested a more expansive view of mid-sixties possibilities. The rocket-tube character lines extending rearward from its outboard headlamps replaced the ’63’s more sober styling and placed the model designation in a prime front-fender location. The aero-designed fastback roof which debuted the previous model year remained for the ’64 season, and Ford’s characteristic large round tail-lamps were now surrounded by redefined rear end styling, framed by the trailing edge of the deck lid and a revised rear bumper, all contributing to the Galaxie’s more substantial road presence.
This brochure view really emphasizes the ’64’s heavily sculptured detailing.
There’s been a lot of debate here on CC regarding the year-by-year design progression of Ford’s “big” cars during the 1960s, with some expressing a preference for the more restrained styling of the odd-year versions, while others lean toward the more, er, Rubenesque even-year models. I was smitten enough with our ’64 that I pestered Dad to drive it into our backyard so that I could take a decent photo of it with my Kodak Brownie camera.
With Dad’s ’62 Falcon, we were a two-Ford family now.
Our Galaxie 500 was nicely though not extravagantly equipped. Starting at its base price of $2,674 ($26,106 today), its options included the 195-HP Challenger 289 V8, Cruise-o-matic, power steering, AM radio, padded dash and visors, pleated all-vinyl interior, full wheel covers, and whitewalls, for a total of $4,244 ($41,005 now).
Everything you wanted to know about ’64 Fords was within these pages.
Ford referred to their full-size ’64s as being “more substantial than ever, with more steel in their frames, huskier bodies, [with] more solid, road-hugging strength than anything in their field.” That solidity was apparent on the road when we would all typically “go for a spin” on Sunday afternoons.
With its Raven Black exterior and red interior, our Galaxie was mother’s pride, a real step up from her previous ’57 Chevy four-door. Sadly, she only enjoyed it for less than a year, and her passing in August of 1964 marked the end of our family’s own Camelot. Though more changes were on the horizon, the Galaxie will always serve as my reminder of that one brief shining moment…
Further reading:
Curbside Classic: 1964 Ford Galaxie 500 – Say Goodbye To Those Jet Tube Tail Lights
In 1964, Ford Australia offered Australian new car buyers via their extensive dealership network for the first time, a Ford Galaxie. The car Australians were offered was an export right hand drive 1964 Ford Galaxie 500 4 door sedan.
It sold as Ford Australia’s top of it passenger range luxury car. Some capital city Ford dealers directly imported a small number of export right hand drive 1964 Ford Galaxie 500 4 door pillarless hardtops. Now these 4 door pillarless ‘64 Ford Galaxie 500s were exotic to the extreme.
As 13 year old in 1964, my all time favourite car was and still is a ‘64 Galaxie 500 4 door hardtop. So much better than the more common 2 door coupes and convertibles
Give me a black ‘64 Galaxie 500 four door pillarless hardtop a red interior.
Yes they sold in Aussie there used to be a wrecking yard in Riverstone NSW with many of these Fords stacked like sardines, Only 4 door versions sold here new as usual but 2 door hardtops have been getting imported used since 64
“Road Hugging Strength”. An early version of “Road Hugging Weight”?
So sorry you lost your mom so young. Must have been quite tumultuous. Which car did your dad sell? The older Falcon or the newer Galaxie?
Thank you Stephen for sharing. It’s been a long time, but I’m sure that 1963 and 1964 still stick pretty vividly in your mind. It must have been pretty rough to shoulder all of those emotions and change at those critical pre-high-school years of adolescence. I was only 2.5 at the time of the JFK assassination and my only memory (one of my first that I can still recall) is sitting glued to the 13″ Motorola tv. All I recall are shaky black and white news images and adults being upset. Over what, I had no idea.
I’d imagine that my now-25 year old felt the same way about 9/11/01.
On a happier note, that Porky Pig lunchbox in the right condition is arguably worth about as much as a 1964 Galaxie in not so great condition. I’m not sure which I’d rather have. I have always liked the clean, futuristic yet not overly so, lines of those very early 1960s Fords, so I may come down on the side of the car.
Excellent post.
Oh, and on a sillier note, thanks for the Camelot reference as it’s not one that I’ve heard too often recently.
At one of my clients (a school that also operates an exotic animal rescue organization), there’s a sign for one of their parking lots – that they’ve named after the various animals they have on campus – that always amuses me…although increasingly I can virtually never find anyone to engage with the apparent pun.
Beautiful car. I think it may have more options than you mention. We had a new 1964 Galaxie 500 4 door sedan with 390 4 bbl, PS, PB, A/C, radio, heater, and cloth seats. The Moroney window sticker was $3900. I remember this because a friends family got a very similar 64 Catalina and the list price on that car was $4000.
Back in the day we had two neighbors, one who had a ‘63 Impala and the other, a ‘64 Galaxie 500. Both 4 door hardtops, similarly equipped. Rode in both many times. I was quite surprised in how much nicer the Ford was over the Chevy. From the seat fabrics to the overall niceness and quality of the interior, the Ford was a definite a cut above.
After writing an initial reply to this warm and well written post, the reply seemed so dark (regarding 11/22/63 and 9/11/01) that I moved it to a Notes file and started a more appropriate response.
It has been my belief that an adult is truly blessed if they have warm memories of their childhood. Not everyone does; it seems you do. What a beautiful home and warm memories.
When the intrusion of tragic world events and personal losses leave one shaken and grieving, true strength of self can keep one on an even keel as the recovery process moves forward.
All Camelots end. Indeed, Camelot, as a JFK thing, did not even exist until after his death.
It must be a comfort to recall how your mother enjoyed that beautiful Galaxie; your Kodak Brownie camera captured its allure perfectly. Most V8 Fords of that era had wonderful exhaust notes, more of a gentle burble than a tire shredding roar. Such a great car to ‘ “go for a spin” on Sunday afternoons’.
COAL cars and family memories; each triggers the other.
_________________
My lunch box was The Lone Ranger. You may need to Goggle it.
Well said Mr. Plaut!
I always remember the end of “Camelot” as it was the day after my 13th birthday. Some birthday present indeed!
(I remember the Lone Ranger very well)
Those of us who were around in 1963 certainly remember that fall and that day. I was coming home from school in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia after a geometry exam, and had told my mother I would drop in on her at a church thrift shop she was volunteering at for the afternoon. It would have been about 4 PM Atlantic time (2 PM Central), not long after the final news flashes.
I remember walking home from the shop, feeling somehow slightly guilty that perhaps we hadn’t been paying enough attention in ‘allowing such things to happen’. The flip side of that November was the sudden arrival of The Beatles, which seemed like a burst of positive energy and excitement in a dark time.
This month I’ve watched a few of Kennedy’s press conferences on YouTube. It was a different time but his intelligence and humour still register, as does the tragedy of his death.
My father had a number of cars predating the 1960 Impala sedan I was brought home from the maternity ward in. In the fall of ’63, he brought home a ’64 Galaxie 500 4-door hardtop.
It was the first in a string of new Fords that spanned each remaining year of 1960s.
In the fall of ’64, it was replaced by a ’65 model, same color and body style.
Even my 4 year old self was in awe of the sheer silence of that car, let alone the crisp styling and the clean, elegant dash design. The impression of that car, and the subsequent models, what with the more modern all-coil suspension and frame design, lighter weight, and just all-around modernity, placed me firmly in the 1965-up camp to this very day.
Does your family still own the house? It looks very well cared for in the recent color picture that opens your story.
Nice post. I’ve always been more of a fan of the ‘odd year’ models from the early 60’s, which to me seemed crisper and lighter in appearance.
The burst of mid-60’s prosperity resulted in our family acquiring a 1965 500 XL two-door hardtop, in a light metallic green with a black vinyl roof. It was a beautiful car to look at, but my strongest memories are of how ‘floaty’ it was on two-lane highways at speed, and how something in the driver’s side door constantly rattled on the two miles of gravel road into our summer cottage. 🙂
No doubt all of us of a certain age have sad memories of 11/22/63. Amazing now that 60 years have passed, and a lot fewer of us are left with any direct recollections of that fateful day. Like you Stephen, I was in school, and our teachers left the room, leaving us to wonder what was going on. They did reappear briefly in sequential classes to tell us that JFK had been shot and then that he had died. It was such a shock.
Also like you, I lost a parent early in life. In my case, my dad passed away from leukemia when I was just over 2 years of age. Sadly, I have no memories of him whatsoever, so I was spared the grief. But I always thought it would have been better to have had both the grief and the memories.
We must have been neighbors, I went to Mt. Tabor Elementary until 2nd grade ended in 1974. Lived on Park Road and walked to school myself.
Nice car indeed .
I remember those rusting the frames away in less than five years .
I too was in school that fateful day , not a good memory .
-Nate
Thanks for the very nicely done nostalgic & poignant posting.. I was sitting in 1st grade when the news came. It’s one of my earliest vivid memories and also one that has followed me throughout life including time as a US Senate staffer., Coincidentally, we had a new 1964 Ford Country Sedan wagon white w/red vinyl interior, 289 cid & few options. It was purchased partially as a kid hauler for my mother’s day care business before the day of common use of passenger vans let alone the idea of minivans. It’s a shock to find myself exactly twice the age my parents were then! Take care.
Thank you for this moving post – you describe the real highs and lows of life, from a new car to the loss of your mother. I can only imagine how much she loved that snazzy new Ford!
I was only 4 when Kennedy was shot, and recall very little other than my father being home from work and the funeral being on the black and white television.
I remember being a huge 64 Ford fan as a kid, especially after my Uncle Bob bought a used one in 1967. A maroon 4 door hardtop, it lived a long life of road salt, rust, and teen driver abuse. But it had been a real looker when they first got it.
So sorry that you lost a parent at such an early age.
I was just a baby when JFK was shot, so I have no recollection at all. My parents did say that day everyone watched the television and was very sad.
I hav a 64 2 door hard top galaxie Rangoon red white top maroon interior just under 3oooo thousand miles no show perfect but very nice 352 engine lov this car
I remember my childhood friend Brian’s father having a 64 Ford Galaxie 500 XL convertible…we started kindergarten in the fall of 64 together and Dr Strelioff on occasion drove us if the bus was not running because of the weather . Thought it was a pretty cool car.
Wow, what a great post. I was 8 years old when that November weekend changed or lives forever. We all can remember where we were when we heard the news. I was old enough to understand what was happening. Although none of us knew why. What we did know was we didn’t know who should we now trust. It took years to make sense of the changes our country was going through, and that weekend in November was just the beginning. I still remember watching TV that Sunday morning, November 24th when we saw Oswald shot live as he was being transported to a different Dallas jail. Some other things happened in America after that. As little boys our age no longer wanted to grow up and become president of the United States anymore, the US lost its future. Also, this was the first time in American history that such a tragedy was covered live 24/7 all weekend long, including constant instant replays keep the event fresh in our minds. That weekend also ended the bliss Americans were enjoying after WW ll. Our economy was strong, our American pride was a popular way of life for everyone and as well it should have been. The entire world saw the US as the leader of the free world and everyone knew it. After 1963 everything changed and there are a lot of us that feel we have never recovered. The 1973 oil crisis was another major blow we didn’t see coming and never fully received from either. To think all this is just below the surface of American life today, and all it took was a wonderful story about a 64 Raven Black with red interior Ford Galaxie 500 to expose it in all of us. At that time I was part of an all Chrysler Corporation family. I was born in Detroit in 1955 and my family worked at both Ford and Chrysler until we moved to Southern California in 1958. But my uncle’s next door neighbor was a solid Ford man. He had 2 1956 Ford Country Sedan wagons and in early 1964, he bought his wife a dark metallic blue with light blue vinyl interior, 64 Ford Galaxie 500, 4 door hardtop. It was gorgeous, and as one of the posters mentioned, it had a great sounding duel exhaust that made that 289 sound great. I really liked that car, and it was that car that made me see what great cars the Ford Motor Company was making and it didn’t take long before the rest of my family made the switch to Ford. My oldest brother bought the most sexyest black on black 66 Mustang. It was a 289 4 barrel carburetor and a 4 speed manual transmission. The shifter was on the floor and had a really cool chrome tee handle that had to be pulled up to shift into reverse. It was just too cool. Our last Chrysler was a 69 4 door hardtop. It was off white with a dark blue vinyl top and dark blue interior. It was a great looking car with it’s hidden headlights and 3 pin stripes that were in matching blue placed low on the sides following the fuelsage styling. It also had Chrysler’s famous 440 cubic inch engine. I loved that engine and the sound of its exhaust. We used that 300 to tow a 17 foot Aristocrat Land Commander trailer, That 440 handled that trailer like it wasn’t even there. That Chrysler 300 was a big car, but handled like a go cart. But in 1976 my parents replaced the 300 with a Lincoln Town Car, 4 door sedan. It was Dark Red Moondust Metallic with matching thick padded half vinyl top and red velour interior. A 460 under the hood, a beautiful big American luxury car. The finest of that era. It dwarfed the 300. I thank you for your story. I can just imagine how great it looked in Raven Black. I would also like to say how sorry I was to read about your mom. I still feel how it made me feel. You sound like a great guy with a solid foundation, an a good Ford man. Today my entire family only drives Fords, Mercurys, Lincolns, F-series trucks and Explorers. We would consider a Chrysler, but never something from GM. GM is a world wide American embarrassment,