When an old car, is more than just another old car….

In 1967, my dad showed up at our house with a used Ford Mustang.  I was six years old at the time and I can still remember that day!  Ever since that day, this car has been in the Garrett Family!

I was always told it was a 1964.5 Mustang.  Ford introduced the Mustangs on April 17, 1964, and those first models produced are referred to as “1964 1/2”.  They are also known as “early 65”, which is probably a more accurate description.  The title on it says 1965.

But this is way more than just an old car.  My mom drove this car for years.  Of course, my dad drove it also.  When my sister Lisa was of driving age, she drove it during her McLean High School years.  After her, my sister Kimi had her stint with the car.  And finally, it was my turn!  For a period of about three years, 1977 – 1979, it was all mine!  In the 1970’s, having a drivers license and a car meant one thing:  Freedom!  For good and for bad.  I experienced my share of both.  I am not sure kids today are as focused on their sixteenth birthday and a driver’s license as I was back in 1977.  

But this car has so many memories for me (and probably a few of my friends from back in the day) that I am a bit sentimental about it!  Feelings for a car!  Does that mean I am old?  😊

Not just back n forth to school.  But to soccer, school events, parties, work.  You name it, that car took me there and back.  If the car could talk, well, the stories it could tell!  One time (of course the only time ever, Murphy’s Law!) a friend purchased a case of beer for me.  I put it in the trunk and got in the car.  Before I could even put the car in drive, I had a flashlight in my face and a police officer at the window.  “What are you boys planning to do with that case of beer?”  I was quick witted (meaning a real smart ass) so many possible retorts immediately came to mind.  “Uh, gift for my dad.”  Or, “picked it up for my sick Grandma.”   Followed up with “Duh, what do you think we are going to do with it?”  Like I said, I was dumb and a smartass, but not quite dumb enough to verbalize any of those thoughts directly to the cop.  My friend and I ended up opening twenty-four cans of beer and pouring them on the ground under the very close supervision of two police officers. 

Of course, my story to my kids is that this car was busy running me to the library (to study), to the church (to sing in the church choir), to the orphanage (to mentor young kids), to the soup kitchen (to serve food to the less fortunate).  That is my story, and I am sticking to it!

Mom, Ian and my Dad in 2003.

My dad kept that car running and in good shape.  He was a mechanic by trade and could fix just about anything.  Over the years when we would visit them, I would take it out on a drive for nostalgia’s sake.  As my kids got old enough, they each got a chance to drive it.  As did their cousins.  A bit of a rite of passage in a way for the grandkids to drive the family mustang.  But my dad passed away a few years ago and without him driving it regularly, it fell into disrepair.  Just parked in a garage, sitting, aging.

Lauren a few years ago giving the old ride a spin!

A number of years ago, my mom decided to sell it.  People were always approaching her to buy it.  I said, “Hold on mom.  I will buy it from you.  I can’t let that leave the family.”  I sent her a check.  When I visited her next, she had the check still in the envelope and gave it back.  “Just keep your money.  I am glad you want the car.”  My brother-in-law fixed her up, she is running and now with us here in Florida.  Sitting for the most part.  But, still in the family!  It will stay with us and at some point, my kids will get this little piece of both Americana and family history!