This never-ending car show that is Curbside Classic has generated a fabulous car collection for me. A collection of the best kind — one that exists purely electronically. I once tried a small scale collection of real cars, but that was expensive and time consuming. This method, while still somewhat time consuming, is far more relaxing and virtually free of cost.
I have been collecting cars in this way for well over a decade now, and have learned a few things. One is that there are cars that once got me quite excited but that now leave me completely flat. And the final Country Squire is one of these.
All my life, the Ford Country Squire had been a desirable vehicle. I still remember the cold December night of 1965 when my father drove a new 1966 model onto our driveway’s thin coating of snow, enhanced by the festive glow of the Christmas lights that adorned our house. The car was painted in what I have come to conclude is the definitive Country Squire color: white.
I can’t say that I really love white cars – in truth, I have become quite sick of them, having owned too many. But there is something about that combination of white paint and genuine imitation wood paneling that was a winning look. Ford must have agreed, because that combination was featured in a lot of Ford’s station wagon ads through the decades. Like this.
And this.
When this final generation debuted in 1979, I felt slightly let down by the downsized Ford LTD. But at least there was still a wagon in the lineup, which I continued to find appealing. Yes, yes, I know that the 1977 Chevy wagon was a great piece of work that was a highly satisfying car. I was, however, still a person whose Ford half of the scale was weighed down with far more goodness than the Chevy side.
As the years went on, this final Country Squire seemed to improve. Ford’s quality control improved a lot in those years, and their fuel-injected 5.0 became a very pleasant powerplant to live with. I knew that Ford’s big wagons were losing ground in the marketplace of family haulers, with the Chrysler minivans leading that charge. Even Ford’s own Taurus wagon and Econoline-based Club Wagons chipped away at the Squire’s reasons for existing.
I remember reading my Sunday newspaper one summer day in 1991, seeing a local Ford dealer advertising new LTD wagons at closeout prices. I knew that the new 1992 Crown Victoria entered the arena without a wagon, and that this would be my one and only chance to waltz into my local Ford dealer to buy a brand new Country Squire. Or, given my thrifty nature, a clean-flanked Country Sedan. Unfortunately, I could not justify the not-inconsiderable expense, being newly married and with zero children to fill those extra seats.
Several years later, I went so far as to look at a used version. But by that time, I had tasted the sweet nectar of the top-line Club Wagon and found the Country Squire (or actually Mercury Colony Park, if memory serves) to be less satisfying on multiple levels, including its driving dynamics and its availability (or lack thereof) of space.
I remember taking these photos in early 2012, a time before my eldest offspring took on the task of driving himself and his siblings to school. This car still lit enough of a torch in my breast that I stopped my car to take photos of this one following the school drop-off. This would be the ultimate – a final edition 1990 or 1991, which gave buyers the first new dash layout since 1979, and also gave owners the 5.0 V8 and AOD transmission in their highest state of refinement. And it was white, just like the Country Squire of my childhood and the choice of so many Ford brochure photographers.
Now? Just nope. I have spent the last few months scrolling backwards and forwards through my digital car collection as part of a challenge on my personal blog to find examples of cars with names that run the gamut from A to Z. Most of these are cars I have never gotten around to writing up here, like the Stutz Vertical 8 that was my entry for the letter “V”. In that project, I scrolled back and forth past these photos multiple times, lacking the enthusiasm to show them under F(ord), L (TD), C(ountry), or even S(quire). In fact, it was during that process that I came to a sad realization: I have no enthusiasm for this car for any purpose at all.
It is strange to consider a car like this – one that I was once so keen on but have now gotten over so thoroughly that I would probably turn down a real one offered to me for free. How sad is that? Yet, here we are. I simply cannot imagine why I would want one of these now. Did I suffer Panther Burnout after several years spent in proximity to an 1985 and 1993 Crown Victorias and my son’s 1989 Grand Marquis? Or have I come to the hard-won realization that this car scratches no itch that I have. It doesn’t do anything that I need to do better than the cars I already own. Including that important job of providing sensory enjoyment.
Many of the cars in my virtual collection are cars would cause me to jump with giddy delight if one were driven into my driveway and keys were dangled in my face, even if only for a 15-minute drive. But this one? Sorry. I sense some Question Of The Day material here, because I suspect that many of us can now think of cars that were once automotive lust objects but are now yawn-inducing on a good day. This one is mine. Sayonara, Country Squire. It’s been fun, but I think we have to move on. It’s not you, it’s me. Or, maybe it is you.
Related CC Reading
CC For Sale: 1991 Ford Crown Victoria LX Wagon – Last Hurrah For The Wagon Master (by VinceC)
At one time I would have had a list of new cars that I would own if I hit the lottery. If I hit the lottery today I honestly don’t think that I’d buy a new car for myself. I recently rented a car on a trip. I was upgraded to a Cadillac CT5. It was nice but the technology in that car ruined the experience. It took about 15minutes to figure out how to run the radio off. Once off it stayed off. It was fast and reasonably comfortable but not what I would expect of a Cadillac. Getting in and out was painful. No thanks, I’ll stick with what I have.
I’m not a license plate enthusiast, but couldn’t help but notice (in the last picture) the truck plates on this wagon. Perhaps it’s like plates in my state for vans…you can do passenger car or pickup. I think I went passenger car on our van long ago as it was a few dollars less for license fees.
Well if I’m noticing license plates, maybe I’m not drawn in to this Ford, either. Which is sad, as this Country Squire is the end of an era and these are truly a novelty piece in current times. I’m thinking part of your lack of enthusiasm could be solved with either the 351 solution or, if one gets truly creative and industrious, the Coyote alternative.
Interestingly, there seems to be a greater percentage of the surface area along the sides of these that has “wood” than does the ’75 Country Squire you have pictured from the brochure.
I quickly looked up Indiana statutes on this, and it appears that “truck” is loosely defined as a vehicle that is used “primarily for the transportation of property.” Assuming that the BMV doesn’t further restrict that definition administratively, it seems to leave the door open for station wagons or SUVs to be registered as trucks.
While there’s often registration or tax advantages to a truck registration, I’d assume that would be negligible for a 35+ year old vehicle – so a truck tag on this Squire seems a bit perplexing.
Now you jog a memory that my father had truck plates on his 66. It was a company car and he claimed that it allowed him to park briefly in loading zones. True or not, I have no idea.
A 351 would solve some of the problems, but the willowy structure is not one of them.
Along similar lines, when I was looking up Indiana’s statutes, I came across this case from 2003 – where an Indiana man was cited for driving without a seatbelt, but told the cop (and later took it to court) that he wasn’t required to wear a seatbelt because his Chevy Blazer had truck tags. The state’s seatbelt law at the time evidently only applied to passenger vehicles.
https://caselaw.findlaw.com/court/in-court-of-appeals/1491602.html
Something tells me that in the past 20-some years, that loophole has been closed.
Indiana’s car/truck license plate option is strange, considering how there doesn’t seem to be any benefit to it, financial or otherwise. And it’s gotten even worse with the widespread proliferation of SUVs. I guess I can see it on full-size, truck-based, body-on-frame SUVS. But subcompact, car-based CUVs? Not so much.
Maybe it has to do with the aesthetic of a plain, unadorned, black characters on a white background license plate, or some sort of rural farm pride thing.
I share your sentiments about the Country Squire. It definitely seems of a time and a place, and that’s not now or here. I have the vague feeling that I’d feel a bit different if the subject of this article were a full-sized GM or Chrysler wagon, but if I really think about it, I’ll bet that I’d feel the same.
The fact that the subject car is white and rusty doesn’t help. Rust is probably unavoidable in Indiana with a car that in all likelihood was parked outside as often as under any kind of protection. And well used. So, there’s that. Also, I’m not sure if white is the best color for a car of advancing years (I say this as the owner of a very old white car). White just highlights the age and flaws. And if this were that deep maroon that these sometimes came in, it might hold more visual interest. But yeah, it’s hard to imagine a Country Squire from this distance in history and not see/imagine it as white…with paneling.
And thanks for showing the Cavanaugh family and friends camping cookout from days of yore. Back when a ground level charcoal grill with kids rolling around next to it was perfectly fine and normal.
The only thing that looks worse than an old rusty white car is an old rusty yellow car.
You have identified one more requirement checked off for the “I survived childhood in the 60s” merit badge. 🙂
Great subject, though kind of sobering because as I read this, I realized that I, too, have lost much of my affection for these cars. In my case, that process was accelerated by a not-so-great ownership experience with a 2006 Crown Victoria. Like you in 1991, I realized the Crown Vics were on their way out, and that represented my one-and-only chance buy a traditional big sedan. Plus, the dealers were selling them for $10-15,000 less than sticker price, so I couldn’t refuse. But the thing give us constant problems, and we sold it with only 75,000 mi. No more dreams of big Fords for me.
However, my itch for these types of wagons hasn’t completely gone away. I still can’t help myself from daydreaming about Buick Roadmasters.
My 93 was the best experience of the 3 Panthers I lived with, but even that one became quite brittle with age.
It’s Monday morning, and I am a ‘morning’ guy. Just so you know that my comments are not coming from the dark side.
Thank you for the article, as well as the excellent and valid comments from readers. From the wagon color to technology, all hit home. Me, I am not a fan of (too much) technology and enjoy driving a couple collector cars to escape. Maybe the love lost on the Country Squire (and others) might be chalked-up to aging, whether the car’s or mine.
Malaise correctly described many cars from the 80s and 90s. And not a bad word today. As ‘Hard boiled Eggs and Nuts’ stated, a Cadillac isn’t what it used to be. Nothing is, I know, but as time moves forward, why do vehicles seemingly appear less appealing?
Younger people do not share my views on this. Have you seen that stainless-steel looking truck of sorts? Awful, in my opinion. But opinions are like belly buttons, which I have to keep in mind.
Not to pile onto the poor thing, but I have never liked any Panther all that much, save for one: the 1990-97 (I think that’s right) Town Car. When I was a teenager, early-20s guy, I thought it would be so cool to cruise around in one of those, and my love for the movie Grosse Pointe Blank from 1997 just cemented how cool those cars were (to me).
The only experience I have behind the wheels of Panthers was in my grandparents’ well-worn ’80s Crown Vics and Grand Marquises, and obviously those weren’t going to change my mind.
Those Town Cars once called me too, but there have been a couple of nice ones for sale locally and I have been surprised by how weak the urge is to look at more pictures, let alone look at the car.
I’ve never lost the wagon itch though there are very few opportunities now to satisfy it. I was able to do it quite cheaply one time with a ’79 Country Sedan in maroon, inside and out. The car came from an estate auction for $1,600. Dry, rust free and one owner local Wyoming car that nobody wanted (also sold at the same auction was an approximately ’74 Catalina four door sedan in similar condition). My wagon drove nicely and I enjoyed it trouble free for a few years; even put new tires on it.
Then along came a ’94 Roadmaster wagon at a used car lot in Fort Collins. It cost a lot more and was (and still is) in excellent condition. Superior in all ways to the Ford and it was ideal, like Country Sedan, for the hobby of finding and refurbishing old Schwinns. Wagons did make my car life more interesting and fun.
(yes, I’ve posted this before, but not without flames).
Not a Country squire, But Crown Vic.
89 Bought in 2003 for $700 from an ex-fire chief.
Shown in red as he had it, Not an original color, I think. (Rims and tints I added).
Then painted some kinda “Porsche Red”, I believe it was.
Then I did the blue flames.
Sold to a kid a couple years later for $1500 (who banged it up after a few months).
After Paint..
And after flames (obviously)..
I hope these load in the right order.
Whatever love I still had for these, your article certainly killed off. This thing just looks kind of sad with its gap-toothed side view and too-short wheelbase.
A good example of how a car from the early 90s resembles one from the 70s.
Through its long tenure, the Country Squire had a certain cachet and attraction that nothing from GM or Chrysler could match. Many upscale families that would never consider a Ford sedan bought these in droves. They were quite at home at the country club and private school car lines.
For me, the ’68 will always have a warm spot in my heart, simply because it was the one I grew up in. And it has to be yellow, not white.
The next-gen and following variants leave me cold. I lived with my grandmother while at college and frequently drove her ’86 Mercury Marquis, so I’m well-familiar with the driving dynamics (or lack thereof), as well as then-Ford’s elevated seating position kick that had my hair brushing the roof liner even with the seat all the way down.
Oh, but that ’68! Seatbelts for ten (as long as four were relatively small children in the “way back”). Steel-lined cargo area big enough to carry a load of 4×8 plywood, fully enclosed. The dull rumble of the 390/4bbl that lulled us boys to sleep as Dad wound us home after a road trip vacation. And going on dates in it during my high school years.
Yeah, I see it in my memory with rose-colored glasses, of course, but for me, it will always be the ’68.
I’ve (thankfully) owned a station wagon, although I find them preferable to SUVS and vans. My point? I once owned an 89 Crown Victoria LX, which compared favorably with other upscale vehicles I have owned. IMO, discontinuing Crown Victoria, Grand Marquis and Town Car was an even bigger MISTAKE than the EDSEL.
50 years later still have lingering dislike for the Country Sedan my parents had for a mercifully short time in the 70s. But that was more due to its mechanical failings.
I have really gotten very unattracted to most classics now. I just crisscrossed the province 4 times in the last month and saw so many classics both running and not quite running and I think of the hundreds I saw, only one really brought up any feelings of want in me, a 1980 Toyota 4×4 pickup in yellow. A real change in my attitude over a fairly short time.
Still like machines though. I have developed an unhealthy obsession with the Ford Transit Connect.. Which is kind of a wagon.
As someone who was 5 when these came out and 17 when they went out of production, I have to wonder if the wagon segment would’ve faded from the market as fast if it hadn’t been so stagnant for so long.
Go down a size bracket and I can remember Ford selling plenty of Taurus wagons in the late 80s/early 90s, and them being respected by early-teen car guys whose parents and friends’ parents bought them, in a way the old unchanging woodgrained boxes weren’t. National Lampoon’s Vacation, on TV annually in my preteen years, certainly had an influence on that.
Also, this was the Ford wagon that lost the “Wagonmaster” crown to GM. Caprice wagons were more common, still less than either fixed-window or FWD A-body wagons despite their run spanning that of both generations of midsize.
Not an experience I can relate to, since I never fell in love with Panthers; quite the opposite, actually. I had a lot of disdain for them as being a decidedly feebler imitation of the GM B/C cars. But unlike you, over time I’ve come to have a bit of a warm spot for them, as survivors and as cars that did get better with age. So our emotions have traveled in opposite directions; I wonder where they intersected?
This was the last gasp of the full-size, domestic station wagon, a category finally killed off not only due to the success of the 1984 Chrysler T-115 minivan, but the introduction of SUVs in various sizes and configurations, most notably with the ability to tow which, frankly, was a big forte of the big station wagon until regulations strangled engines of sufficient power up to the task.
TBH, it was just a case of survival of the fittest.
I may have chosen a Country Squire over the GM B body wagons if I were choosing between the two. The interiors were a bit more luxurious, with items such as full-length armrests, optional front vent windows, and pockets on the seatbacks that the GM wagons didn’t have. 1991 was when GM introduced the “whale” body style, along with a flip-up rear window and lower tailgate rather than the roll-down window, and door/gate that Ford still used, an arrangement I prefer. I also prefer the sideways-facing seats in the Ford over the rear-facing third row in GM’s wagons.
This car occupies two very different places in my mind. The first is my love for any vehicle that I know is fairly robust and that I’d have no problem fixing up, let alone maintaining – with extra points for quirkiness. This car in particular, already being a decade past its heyday when it was made, is a great throwback car; something different for someone who wants to be different and could use the space. Not that it does anything any number of other choices couldn’t, but with EFI and a few other modernizations incorporated, it’s a way to drive something from the wayback machine without all the wayback idiosyncrasies.
The other place is the thought of eight-year-old me, if my Dad had brought one of these home instead of a hot new Explorer (not that we could afford either at the time). The Explorer was no better as a family hauler (unless you needed four-wheel-drive), and far more trouble-prone thanks to weak transmissions and heads that crack if overheated; the 5.0 and AOD combination are in another league in terms of durability. None of that mattered though, especially not after Jurassic Park further cemented the Explorer’s hotness. Riding in a Country Squire would have been like dressing up in a tweed suit and bow-tie by comparison. Even five years earlier, when the Taurus appeared, it looked a bit geriatric.
I’ve known a couple friends and relations who had a ‘Vic (not the station wagon, unfortunately), and I get the impression that they’re pretty robust cars. I doubt they would have been so popular with police departments and taxis if they’d really been problematic. And that was mostly the selling point: Maytag washer (when they were still good) dependability. The Country Squire treatment feels kind of like something that slipped between the cracks and would have ended by the mid-80s if anybody had been paying attention. I don’t know who bought them, but you only needed a handful of buyers to justify the dirt cheap cost to keep it around until the overhaul in ’92. Maybe that’s just part of the fun for someone who’d drive one – it’s a car that owes its existence to the tastes of another era and an unusually long life-cycle. And almost invariably, provided a product isn’t simply awful, yesterday’s dorky, hung-around-too-long style will find a way to be cool again for at least a spell.
“I can’t say that I really love white cars – in truth, I have become quite sick of them”
Is it really that bad JP? Well if you are ever out Northern California way I will give you a ride in a white wagon maybe even wheel time.
That Ambassador is *Chef’s Kiss”