Baby… you can drive my car…

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.

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About Life in the 50's and beyond...

Welcome to Life in the 50's and 60's and beyond .... where I write about my childhood memories, music of the 60's and about life in the country. I am a mother, grandmother, farmer's wife, business owner, and retired teacher.
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13 Responses to Baby… you can drive my car…

  1. Great memories as usual…The first car that I can remember was a “Woody” Station Wagon…Then a Plymouth with Big Fins and Push Button controls…I just loved that car…I even learned to drive in it…I would practice driving around and around the trees in our front yard… but, only while my Dad was at work…My Mom was the risk taker…

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  2. Charming post from you as usual Ruth. I like the way you think, I like that you are a sentimental person as I am
    The car I was brought home in was my parents first brand new 1955 baby blue Chevy. In my life I have owned a 55, 56, two matching white 56’s, a 57 woody, a 55 dodge truck with a 1967 Pontiac engine in it that was quite cherry.
    Think maybe our parents cars were a great influence in our where our taste are. I would give up a brand new digitized car right now for a smooth running Chevy.

    So I could…. ♪♫♪ ♥ ” drive my Chevy to the Levy.” ♪♫♪ ♥

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  3. I couldn’t tell you a thing about our family car except it was a Pontiac, about as big as a boat, named Jezebel (my mother liked to name our cars), and as the youngest and shortest of three children, I always got stuck sitting in the middle of the back seat. I was told by my siblings that I had to keep my feet on “the hump” and if my knees edged into their territory on a long ride, I knew there’d be hell to pay.
    Jezebel was an intrinsic part of my early childhood – thanks for reminding me!
    Wendy

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    • Oh yes…the dreaded hump! I had forgotten that. We never named our cars but after my husband and I were married we had an employee that named all of our farm trucks. There was “Black Beauty” (it wasn’t) and “Old Yeller” (It was). Love the name Jezebel… reminds me of the old Jeep in the Roy Rogers TV show…. Nelliebelle!

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  4. What a lovely story, Ruth. Ours was a Austin A40; very small with 7 children crammed in… No seat belts in those days meant arms and legs (and bodies) mingling together everywhere. (Although the older children didn’t always accompany us on visits, etc…) Certainly brings back memories of open windows; kids leaning out, country drives and the sunshine… My oh my, your little green/grayish green car story has certainly whipped up a lot of memories for us…

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  5. Karen says:

    We had a light green Nash. How my mom was able to pack us up, all five of us, to go camping, with blankets, tent, food, fishing equipment, luggage, I will never know???!!!! She is a wonder to this day with packing! She’ll be 80 in 2013. Those cars seemed to have so much room (or it is just the fact that I was just a lot smaller … 🙂 Karen

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  6. Really nice memories, Ruth. My parents had five kids in a Chevy Impala. We used to fight over who got to lie on the “ledge” of the rear window.

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  7. free penny press says:

    I love that car and would have had such fun riding around in it. We had an ugly Silver station wagon that looked like a bullet 🙂

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  8. Caddo Veil says:

    Very nice, thanks for answering my question!! God bless you–love, Caddo

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