One of my blogfriends asked if the little green car in my blog header was significant.
Yes it is!
Although it’s not the exact same car my family had when I was just a babe, the picture is the closest I could find to the real thing. Our little green car was a 1950 Chevy.
Chevy was the preferred choice of my Dad and was the first in a long line of Chevy cars that moved my family from one place to another. Even back in the 1950’s cars were somewhat of a status symbol. In my mind, Chevrolet was a basic car. Not many frills. A car for the common man you might say. Back then, there were no seat belts or air bags. No safety or automatic locks. No anti lock brakes. No child-safe back seat windows.
Some cars had AM radios… but that was optional. Many cars had a stick-shift although automatic transmissions were becoming more popular. Cars from the 50’s were built like tanks Sturdy. Metal. If you hit something or something hit you, damage was minimal and injuries were slight. Of course back then no one traveled 80 miles an hour down the interstate either.
Our little green car was more of a muted green…. almost a greenish gray. I don’t remember bright, flashy colors on cars in the early 50’s… those colors came along a little later.
For some reason, I have always happily identified with that little green car. I think because we were both born the same year. (There, now you know how old I am) I liked its rounded fenders and simple shape. I can remember riding down country roads on a sunny day in the little green car and watching the shadow of the car in the ditch beside the road. I used to pretend there was another car right beside us with another little girl in the backseat. That other little girl and I had some great adventures together through my imagination. We went to the circus together, we went shopping for school clothes together, we went to the doctor together, and best of all traveled to the local root beer stand on warm summer evenings to get a root beer float or maybe just an ice cream cone.
Dad was driving and in control with mom at his side. My brother sat behind my mother and I always sat behind my Dad. Perhaps it wasn’t the little green car that made me feel good. Maybe it was just that fact that we were together as a family. Safe and happy in our little green car.