If you should wander around your neighborhood today, wherever you may be, you’ll probably see some driveways full of cars and others that are empty. Some of you are hosting friends and family for a Thanksgiving feast, others are their guests. The photo atop this item is from 55 Thanksgivings ago, with my Aunt Timmie’s ’49 Ford Six at left, my cousin Ben’s first car, a ’36 Ford convertible sedan at right. Ben later sold the Ford to his brother Woody, and bought a ’37 Ford convertible sedan, whose parts car became my first automobile.
Fifteen years later, the cousins’ cars were all imported, Ben’s Volvo 544 at left, then Woody’s Alfa Spyder, and two Volkswagens belonging to Cousin Becky and her husband Bob.
Family cars convene at all seasons of the year. In 1960, we see Dad, my sister Rosemary and me about to go to church on Easter Sunday in our Peugeot 403 (Mother was behind the camera). Just ten years later, Mother accepted a ride from me in my new Rover.
We often visited my cousins in New Jersey, where in March 1954 someone snapped my cousin George with Rosemary and the dog Frolic. Uncle Tom appears to be changing a tire on his Studebaker Conestoga, while on the right is one of several Jeep station wagons they owned through the years. I seldom saw my Aunt Emmy, because she lived in Florida. It seemed like every time she came north she had a new car, a Dodge station wagon in 1955, a new Plymouth three years later.
Postscript
Our driveway was (relatively) empty this Thanksgiving, as we enjoyed a 30-year tradition of dining with long-time friends Billie and Jeff and their daughter Corie in Mansfield, Massachusetts. The table was elegantly set when we arrived, and our feast was plentious. Outside, the cars in their driveway hinted that dinner was being served. We don’t always travel with a motorcycle in tow. Our son Edward had decided that the biking season was about over, and rode his Honda RVT 1000R from Boston. Anticipating darkness after dinner and the rain showers we encountered en route home, he loaded it for the final leg of the trip.
I doubt that I’ll be surfing the web in 2057, but if this item is still out there in cyberspace, I imagine people will marvel at what we drove a half century earlier. Those among us who are now children will enjoy telling their own offspring how the world was awash with SUVs like Suburbans and Honda Pilots, and how Honda came up with this quirky little box called the Element.
