After seeing yesterday’s blue AMC hearse, I got to thinking about that other important ride we have all taken.
My first ride was home from the hospital in a 1969 Ford Fairlane. Powered by a 302, it was the first car my father had ever purchased with an automatic transmission. He says the automatic was for my mother, however it was partly due to his having broken a hip.
Mrs. Jason isn’t sure what she came home in; she’s the youngest and, well, her parents were distracted with her two older brothers. My father-in-law thinks she came home in a ’57 Plymouth he had found with a mere 8,000 miles in 1970.
So in what car did you take your first ride? Bonus points are in order if you later drove that car.
Fall 1962, red (weren’t they all?) 1958 Volvo 544 named Erik the Red after the Viking explorer. (Mom was of Swedish descent. ) They traded it on a new 67 Saab 2 stroke wagon (named Sonja) about when my sister was born so I didn’t get to drive it. (I guess they wanted a bigger (?) car with two kids.)
My first ride was in a 1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera. (I was born in 1995). I believe my Dad bought that car for my Mom in 1991, and Mom still says it was the best car she ever owned. I never got to drive that car as Dad sold it when I was 4 or 5 (those cars were known for rust, and theirs was no exception) However, my first and current car is a 1989 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera with the 4-cylinder Iron Duke engine, just like Mom’s Oldsmobile. My Dad specifically found my Olds because he remembered how reliable the ’86 was.
When I was born in November, 1973, my Mom had a blue 72 Montego and my Dad had a blue 68 Valiant, both 2 door cars. The Valiant was a /6 and Im pretty sure the Mercury had a 302. Im the youngest of 3 boys and we thought nothing of climbing in and out of a 2 door car, its just what we did. Todays soccer moms seem to need a Suburban to haul 1 or 2 kids around. However, not long after I was born, my Dad sold the Valiant and got a used 4 door 1971 Satellite 318 that he kept up until 1983 when he treated himself to a new Riviera when he retired from being a cop.
Not sure which one I came home from the hospital in, probably the Montego, but either one is cool compared to any of todays appliancecars.
My first ride was in a 1954 Ford Fordor Customline sedan. Being Canadian built, it still had the flathead V8 and a three on the tree. Canada was denied the new Y-Block V8 until 1955.
November 1985..rode home from the hospital in mom & dad’s maroon 1984 Chevy Cavalier Type-10..top of the line econo-box! Don’t really remember many rides in this car as it was totaled in a rear-end collision before my second birthday, but I do remember the interior having a very unique smell..as all cars of that vintage seemed to have once the new car smell wore off. I poked my head in an ’86 Cimarron at the local u-pull-it yard this summer and was greeted by that same exact smell!
I came home in a 1990 Pontiac Sunbird GT with the cool half flip up lights.
My sister came home in a 1991 Chevy Astro that my parents had for a total of four months due to numerous problems. My youngest sister came home in a brand new 2001 Ford Focus, that ended up being a lemon.
I came home from hospital in a 1950 Studebaker Champion, in February 1953.
It was my Dad’s first car, purchased new when he was 46. It was not that unusual at the time to buy one’s first car at such a late age, having lived through the great depression and WW2.
Here’s a picture of that car, probably taken when it was brand new. That’s my older brother standing in front of the Stude.
I believe I rode home from the hospital in July ’67 in my folks ’66 Pontiac Tempest. The first vehicles I can remember riding in as a kid were our ’69 Chevy C10 and ’68 Plymouth Satellite. I can distinctly recall loving the sound of the dual exhaust on the Satellite.
Well, it wasn’t on the way home from the hospital, as the hospital was right across the street from us, and I was carried home. Of course, we didn’t have a car in Austria anyway. My first memory of riding in a car was as a very young toddler, having been placed in the well behind the back seat of a VW Beetle.
I came home in a 1955 Mercury Montclair. Turquoise and white. I don’t remember the car at all, except there was a pic of the back end of it with my dad flipping burgers on the grill in front of it. It was gone by ’57, replaced with an Olds, which was replaced by the first car I really remember, a 1960 New Yorker, black and chrome. The Montclair was the first dud in a series of Ford built duds. I remember my dad muttering “I should have learned my lesson the last time, when he got his 63 T-Bird, which had a never ending series of engine and other issues.
I came home (23 June 1975) in a late-model Seat 850 Especial. My father had bought it in 1974, I guess weeks before production was halted because he got a great deal. It was terribly outdated and I was ashamed of that car during my childhood. However, this car drove us through some memorable trips. We would go to my mother’s hometown almost 1000km away from where we lived. At the time, Spain didn’t have many motorways and it was quite a feature crossing the whole Iberian peninsula from the NE to the NW.
We also visited relatives we have in France (Auvergne, uncle that emigrated to work for the Michelin factory there) and those are some of my earliest memories. The car actually broke down when we were going up to the Mont-d’Or in summer 1978 and my father always explains how French people laughed at such a small Spanish car when we were on the side of the road. However, the reparation was easy to perform (some ignition problem) and the car came back to life. I also remember that one lamp broke, so he had to buy new bulbs in France. Do you remember that French cars used to have yellow lights? He kept them back home for a few years’ time. He replaced it in 1980-81 with a second-hand Seat 127, bought fror my uncle. It was a far better car.
Both my parents loved cars but I never got the answer to why I came home in Mother’s White 64 Olds Cutluss vs. Dad’s light blue 63 T-Bird… except something along the lines of the Cutluss sat higher and would be easier for Mother & baby to get into-I think it was because it was xmas eve and snowing out and the T-Bird was tucked away in the garage…however Dad redeemed himself years later when I got my license he picked me up on the last day of school and let me drive the recently acquired Corvette home…and offered these words of wisdom..”Son don’t pop the clutch or you’ll never be able to show your face here next year”…I pulled away from the curb flawlessly…
1962 Ford Falcon 2 door sedan. My parents took the back seat out and let me sit back there “playpen” style.
8/28/72….came home in my dad’s ’67 GTO pillar coupe.
1950 Plymouth. The photo is from Google images, but mom and dad’s was a gray 2 door sedan, and the picture is pretty accurate.
That car was purchased when it was 6 months old and was the newest car dad ever owned. I have no idea if they picked me up in that car, or another car brought me to them. Could’ve been a St. Louis streetcar, for all I know, which would partially explain my preference for all things that ride on flanged wheels and steel rails!
Mom and dad had that car for 10 years until the front seat began falling through the floor and they had to get rid of it. A wonderful old heap!
1977 Buick Regal, black with red interior, horseshoe floor shifter, Buick 350 V8.
The car was bought from Lallas Buick in Lowell MA one month before I was born, and I came home just after they cleared the roads blocked by that infamous storm they can’t stop bringing up every winter around here.
With good reason – I was living in Erie, PA at that time, and still have memories how it hit us. I believe that was the storm that closed down Buffalo.
Boy do I remember that storm! My dad’s Vega GT was completely buried in the back driveway, not even the top of the aerial was visible.
Great question, Jason. It would have been either a red 59 Karmann Ghia or a 59 English Ford Anglia. (A Ford Anglia elsewhere, but these were called “English Fords” here.) I am not sure, will have to ask my mom. I would guess that the Anglia would have been up higher and easier to get in and out of.
This was a confusing era in my family’s car history, as between 1958 when my parents got married and 1961 when they bought the Olds F-85 wagon (which is the first car I remember), they had 5 cars that were quite a variety – 53 Chevy, 57 Buick, 57-ish Ford wagon (which my mother recalls being the result of some used car dealer fleecing my father), the Anglia and the Ghia.
1950 Oldsmobile Rocket 88 convertible. No, the top wasn’t down because it was January, although I’m told it was unseasonably warm (1952). I sure would have loved to drive it, but it was gone by the time I was big enough to do so. Now, my first drive? A 1966 Rambler Classic, six cylinder with Borg Warner automatic, really a very nice car.
Born Feb 1978: Came home in a 1969 Pontiac Grand Safari Wagon.
My brother born Nov 1982: Came home in a 1975 Volvo 164e.
Born November, 1945 and my father was still in the Army Air Corps in Savannah, GA. Zero idea what I came home in but was most likely a worn out pre war something that they were able to borrow or possibly the hospital had some sort of transportation available.
’57 Buick Roadmaster. My memories are only of slides. Red with black top. Lots of chrome. The 1st of my fathers “Big shot” cars. He tended to buy vehicles not exactly suited for a union worker with 7 children. Finished off with a Cadillac before he passed in ’96.
Raising seven kids means you take whatever luxuries any way you can, and you enjoy them.
I came home from the hospital in a 1948 Plymouth. It was long gone before I could drive as my father (not a car person) would buy a cheap used car, drive it until it was no longer worthwhile to fix, and then repeat. I don’t really remember the Plymouth; I do know it was a four door sedan with suicide doors on the back as I have pictures of it (black and white of course). The first car I can actually remember is a 1950 Ford that replaced the Plymouth. Not too long after we got it I learned that if the car was in gear and you pushed the starter button, the starter motor had enough oomph to make the car jump forward. Fortunately it did not go very far as it ran into the back wall of the garage and stopped. Also fortunately there was no damage to either the car or the garage.
First rides? Completely unknown as my memory of life at 5-6 days old doesn’t exist, however I know it was some model of 1950 Chevrolet. Most likely a Bel Air hardtop (dad was big on the new models). Being the son of a car dealer, however, I’ll have to claim two (remembered – no doubt there were a lot before them) first rides.
First ride was in the summer of 1953, when dad brought home the first Corvette his dealership received.
First ride in a car that dad actually considered his own was in October 1955 when dad brought home his new 1956 Bel Air four door hardtop, red and white two tone. I still remember the ceiling liner pattern in the car, as dad had to use it to rush me to the hospital with what was diagnosed as lobar pneumonia that night. Which almost killed me. I was a sickly child until the age of nine, and put my parents thru absolute hell.
Ford Falcon two door sedan. Likely a ’61 or ’62.
That Fairlane 500 coupe in the article is very handsome – and quite the mini-me LTD. It always seemed that Fairlanes I would see were relative stripper wagons and sedans.
It was a ’58 Bel Air wagon in white. I remember well the day my Dad was looking at it saying my Mom had killed the car. She overheated it and cracked the block. That was in 1967, the next day he replaced it with a brand new Turquoise colored Bel Air sedan. I didn’t get to drive the ’58 but learned to drive in the ’67 and it was my first car for about two weeks. That was when I had the option of my brother’s hand me down green ’70 Road Runner… sorry Bel Air…you lose.
This is my first car, my 1985 Buick LeSabre Custom. Bought it in March of ’04 and i still have it. Took this picture back in September when I moved her to a new home.
Proud to say i am the second owner, and got her from the first with only 55k on the clock. No rust, no fading, no cracked dash. All original. Served me well as a young mechanic and taking trips all over New England.
Now i know why everyone loves B-Bodies on this site…
Gotta love computers…
“Collectors Edition”? Unscientific survey – how is the paint on your hood? I owned 3 cars of that generation, bad hood paint on all 3, with the finish everywhere else being fabulous. One white, one metallic navy blue and one metallic bronze. Little teeny checking and crazing of the finish. No matter how much waxing, I could never get a hood to shine anywhere near the way the tops of the fenders and header panel shined.
My mom’s white ’92 Roadmaster is the same way.
My first car ride home was on 1/11/65 in a then new ’64 Dodge 330 station wagon. I have many memories of that car since we kept it until 1977.
It had the 225 slant six, and the famous Torqueflite transmission, with push buttons no less!
It was originally white with blue vinyl interior, but my parents eventually tired of the white and had it resprayed in 1968 in a pretty Robin’s Egg blue, also non metallic. It’s one of my all time favorite car colors out there BTW.
At the time we sold it, it had 140-145K miles on it, rusty, and on its second transmission, which was done in 1973 or so. The tranny went as we drove back across the mountains from Yakima Washington via I90 on a Sunday, and got to hitch a ride with a family all crowded into a Dart, or Valiant that was from the mid 60’s. I just remember it was dark blue, and they took us to our home and Dad stayed behind to get it towed and Mom went back to retrieve him.
They went back the next day to find a used unit from the junkyard and had it installed.
We’d bought the car new in Jacksonville Fla while we were staying with my Mom’s relatives and mother during the summer of ’64 after having just come back from my Dad’s 3 year stint in Europe (Germany, then Scotland) and the ’60 Dart Seneca 2 door sedan was on its last legs, and rusting as it came back on the deck of the ship (they’d had it shipped overseas, and back).
The reason for the rust was we transferred to Oklahoma (Midwest City) for I think 9 months in 1967, then back to Jacksonville for much of 1968-69 before moving back out to the PNW where we’d moved to for the first time in ’64.
Anyway, it had full wheel covers, AM pushbutton radio, and AC, roof racks, and the wind deflectors for the rear window since we’d be traveling in late summer across the middle of the country with Mom pregnant with me, and 3 girls of early grade school age, and a huge Collie dog.
So needless to say, I never got to drive it. 🙁
Did get to drive, a little bit her ’76 Vega though while I had my driver’s permit in the early 80’s.
I should have added what our kids’ first ride was. Our son came home in our 1976 Gremlin and our daughter came home in our 1981 Reliant.
Hmmm… that explains a lot…
I came home in a 1973 Vega Kammback. Green, with woodgrain siding. Sigh.
My daughter came home in a 2005 Mazda6 SportWagon (GREAT CAR!); and my son came home in a 2003 Ford Mustang GT (I brought the wrong car to the hospital – my wife was not pleased).
For what it is worth, we now have a 2010 Chrysler Town and Country. My kids call it the Big Red Van, and they are MADLY in love with it. When I was shopping for a car to replace my 2003 Mustang, my daughter tried HARD to talk me into buying a second minivan. She lost. I got a 2011 Ford Mustang GT, which she and my son see as a vastly subpar ride.
I came home in the 1960 Pontiac shown in this cc article:
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/coup-cars-of-uncle-peter/
Canadian market narrow track chassis, flathead 6, most likely 3 on the tree. Never drove it, I only have 2 memories of it. The day it overheated and left us stranded, and the day it left our home on the hook of a tow truck.
There’s better photos somewhere, but they’re at my parent’s house.
You mean OHV (GMC – Big Chevy Truck based) 261 six . . . . yes?
Man, you guys are making me feel old. In 1947 I would have come home in my parents’ 1941 Plymouth, which my mother had bought new. She and my dad (after their marriage in 1946) made it last through the war and early postwar years. Like most young American families in that period, they, too, had that pent-up demand for a new car, but had to wait until my dad had a secure job and they could afford to move up to a 1949 Dodge. My dad, beginning with a 1948 Ford, had new company cars every two years, mostly Fords. Many of my early childhood memories are of that Dodge and those Fords. All of these cars were long gone by the time I got to driving age in 1963, my father would replace the family car every four years like clockwork.
Well, Don, you’re not the oldest of us, if that helps….
You made my day!
A snowy late January day in 1963, in a ’60 Studebaker Lark LWB ex-NYC taxi. My dad was, er, “frugal”…
It was April 1962, and it was in my parents’ 1959 Rambler Six station wagon. The car was white on the outside with a red-and-black interior. We kept it until 1968, when a 100-mile round trip from Shippensburg to Harrisburg required my parents to carry at least two cans of oil to keep the car running.
My first ride was in a then-newish 1949 Pontiac, of which I have no memory, but I can imagine it might have looked something like this one.
Pretty sure mine must have been a 2nd-hand ’48 Olds, like this one.
My earliest car memory is from the back seat of a 1950-ish Nash Airflyte.
I arrived at exactly the same time as my mother’s dream car was delivered in the Fall of 1966. My first ride was actually one of the first rides my family took in the new car. It was a 1967 Buick Electra 4 door pillar sedan, base trim, light metallic green with a black vinyl top and black vinyl inside. We had it until 1971, so I do remember it, and my mother likes to tell how I used to love to play in it and sit behind the wheel and work all the controls on the dash.
Not sure which, but it was one of the following.
’51 Chevy fastback – Mom’s
’52 Cadillac – Grandma’s
’50 Buick Roadmaster Convertible – Dad’s
’41 Ford Woody – Third family car
I also will never know. I presume some nuns from Catholic Relief Services took me from the hospital to the courthouse, where I was transfered to my (adoptive) parents…
1965 Olds 442, 400 mill with 4 barrel carb and I’m guessing its the Jetaway tranny. Here’s mom and dad with me (mom is due in 6-7 weeks) in front of mom’s folks office and warehouse during on Easter 1966, on Florence Avenue, in Huntington Park, Calif. They equipped it with new Crager SS wheels and Red Line tires soon after pruchase, because they both had an evil hot rod tendency. Over my howls of protest, in ’71 they traded it in for new Mercury Marquis 4 door sedan with a 429, to make room for our growing family (one sister, with another to follow in two years). Thought the Merc gave years of good service, they regret the trade in to this day.
Oops. Original too large, I think.
Any trick to attaching a pic?
Try again.
’55 Ford convertible, tripple white, not sure which model but photos exist. The car is gone, and even the hospital is gone, soon to be replaced by condos. Poor old St. V’s.
I rode home from Pennsylvania Hospital in a three year old1968 Chevy Bel Air station wagon, Ash Gold with black vinyl interior. My folks kept it until just before my sister came along in 1976, when they moved on up to a ’72 Olds Custom Cruiser.
February, 1966: Came home as a newborn in a Ruby Red 1960 Porsche 356B. My dad bought it new on June 30, 1960 having traded in a ’56 356A. Best part is, dad kept the red 356 all this time, handed it down to me and I’m still driving it regularly.
It looks like you have won the theoretical bonus points!
Lucky you! Beautiful car.
You also get bonus points for having a very cool dad
That’s great! I have a lot of childhood memories of 356s, as Dad had a ’51 when I was born, and later on a ’60 B 1600 Super Roadster. He still has the Roadster!
1962 Chevy Impala sedan in Surf Green with a green interior. The only new car my parents ever bought.
I’m probably among the youngest readers here – I came home from the hospital in an almost-new ’90 Nissan Maxima! It was a good car; we kept it for years until the second transmission blew.
Likely an early-70s Chevelle – they had a ’76 Impala wagon and a 75 or so Pinto which replaced a Cricket by the time I was 5…but they never bought a new car til ’85. The Imp rusted away in the New England salt and was felled by a slipping transmission..it’s the first car I remember, though!
Think I beat you all: the ride home was a ’47 Kaiser-Fraizer Manhattan. (well somebody had to buy them.) do not remember it as was replaced by ’51 olds supper 88. The last time my father was a wild and crazy man.
’72 Mustang Sportsroof, yellow with brown interior and dog-dish wheels!
Needing some clicks after Van Week? 😉
I’m assuming it was in the family wagon – a 1978 Dodge Aspen, white, with fake woodgrain and tan vinyl.
The other family car was a yellow 1972 AMC Gremlin.
Oh boy, Anthony. A Gremlin AND an Aspen in the same family. I’ve probably got you all beaten in the age department. I came home in a 1937 Chevy, a car I remember only though photos. It took us through my dad’s many job transfers, from the Rockies to New York state, and then brought us all the way to Southern California, where we were part of the mass exodus brought on by the defense contractors. It was there that the faithful old Chevy gave way to a ’53 Buick, white over blue. Dad’s first attempt to teach me to drive ended abruptly–I didn’t hit the tree, but it was a close thing. I was so spooked that I didn’t even TRY to learn to drive till I was in my mid-20’s. First car I owned was a ’68 Plymouth Fury II–one of a series of retired company cars Dad bought cheap. Not until he retired did Dad buy a brand-new car; it was a Cadillac, and the fulfillment of a long-standing dream. He almost talked himself out of buying it–Dad was nothing if not frugal–but my brother happened to be with him the day he bought it, and since Brother was also Dad’s attorney and knew where all the money was, told Dad “For heaven’s sake, Dad, I KNOW you have the money. Go ahead! Treat yourself!” So Dad finally got his dream ride, and he deserved it, having fed, clothed, housed and educated seven kids on a pretty modest salary. He paid cash, by the way.
Born in 1956, I likely came home from hospital in a 1853 Olds. First car to drive was a 1968 VW automatic Square-back (Type II) (hated that car) First car to own was a 1960 Mercury Parklane Turnpike Cruiser….
“Born in 1956, I likely came home from hospital in a 1853 Olds”.
Man, your family got their money’s worth out of that puppy:-)
If darms had said an 1853 Studebaker, it would actually have been possible, as they started building and selling wagons in 1852. 🙂
In November of 1959, I came home to Forest View Drive (between Sloat and Eucalyptus in San Francisco) in a white over green 1955 Pontiac Chieftain 870 sedan. That car stayed in the family until January of 1966.