I remember most if not all the vehicles my parents had while I was growing up. But this one, the 1978 Ford Country Squire Station Wagon (fairly sure this is the right model and year) was one that stands out. It was HUGE!! A land-yacht of a car with a 400 c.i. V8 with spring shocks, it would feel like it was floating down the road and had enough room in it to have a medium sized birthday party with 4 adults and about 12 pre-teens.
I remember mom and dad taking my brother and I to Chicago to see some extended relatives of my dad’s. It was certainly my brother and I’s first time going there, so we were excited. I remember having to get up butt-early so we could drive there, so my bother and I slept in blankets in the way-back, as we called it. The cargo area of the wagon was long and flat and was just brown painted steel doors over the “trunk” that held the spare tire. Since it was just painted steal, anytime dad sped up from a stop, slowed to a stop, or turned either direction, my brother and I slid on the blankets – back and forth, side to side. As kids, we thought it was a better ride than most of the carnie rides at the county fair… and safer too!
This was fall of 1983, and I remember many of the Top 40 songs of the day being on the radio. As I’ve mentioned on air before, Spandau Ballet’s “True” is a song I never get tired of and hearing it SEVERAL TIMES on the way from DeWitt, IA to Chicago (2.5. hours) is the reason. Of course, all of Michael Jackson’s Thriller album was on the radio as well, since EVERY song was a hit.
Another memory I have with this car is one that is brought up once in a while by my mom, who likes to remind me of bad choices I made as a kid.
The DAY I got my driver’s PERMIT, I was 14 and proud that I was able to start driving a car. That afternoon, mom and dad went somewhere in the truck or went somewhere with friends and was picked up, I don’t know. I just remember that the station wagon was in front of the house and the keys were hung in the kitchen! Now here’s where the story gets very “Parents Just Don’t Understand”…
Press play below
I asked my brother (6 and a half years younger than myself) if he wanted to drive around the block with me so I could practice driving, BUT – he couldn’t tell mom or dad (see what I mean about the above video?). He agreed and off we went! I just drove around the block and slowly, thought not so slowly as to attract attention from the neighbors. I figured I’d drive the normal 20 mph in residential zones (I had just passed the test so I knew what was legal. Me driving by myself or with my 6 year old brother being illegal crossed my mind, but like, for 2 seconds).
I did great! Parked it right where it was before we left and all was good! It was fun and we went in the house and went about the rest of our day.
Fast forward to that night after my parents got home and the phone rang. Mom picked it up and said, “Oh hi, “so and so”! What? You saw what? You’re kidding! Oh my God…. OK, thanks for calling and letting me know.” *click*
“SHAWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Come to fund out, we had nosey neighbors across the street who didn’t know how to mind their own business and told my mom what I had done.
Tattle-tales….
Anyway, after the month I was grounded was done, this was the car I did learn to drive in, at first. I then learned to drive a manual in a 4-door, 1979 Chevette, which, when I turned 16, became my car. I called it “The Shove-it”!
“So to you other kids across the land, there’s no need to argue. Parents just don’t understand (but have the right to ground your butt for as long as they want to remind you of your bad decisions.”
