The Family Cars, 1955-1969: Part II--The Rambler

My dad had bought his first car, a 1953 Ford, in 1955 during his first assignment in the Army. The Ford had taken to Kansas City from Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri several times; from Kansas City to Houston and back to KCMO; and from KC to Brooklyn. It came with us to Germany in 1958. In Germany, we'd taken the Ford on a couple trips to France.

In 1961, Dad was ordered to Albuquerque, New Mexico. He decided it was time for a new car, so before leaving Germany, he sold the Ford which he'd had for six years to another GI. In late August, 1961, we departed Germany aboard a commercial airliner and, after a refueling stop at Shannon, Ireland, landed at McGuire Air Force Base, New Jersey. The next day, we were on a train headed for Kenosha, Wisconsin, and the American Motors Company factory there.

Dad had ordered a 1961 Rambler station wagon from the factory before we left Germany. The plan was to pick it up at the factory and drive on to Kansas City for a family visit, then on to our new home in Albuquerque.


Rambler Station Wagon built by American Motors Co. Pictured is a 1962 model, virtually identical to our 1961 model.


Kenosha turned out to be remarkably picturesque for an industrial town. It is on the western shore of Lake Michigan--which I had never seen until then. In Kenosha, we were given a tour of one of the town's two American Motors assembly plants--quite a thrill for me and my next younger brother. I don't think my four year old sister and youngest (3 years old) brother were quite as impressed. In fact, my sister said recently that she had no recollection of the factory trip at all!

The car wasn't ready until the next day. Nobody in the family had ever had a brand new car. This one was custom-built to my dad's preferences. The Rambler was blue with a white top. There was a luggage rack of sorts on top. The cargo area in back converted into another seat which faced to the rear--another thrill for me and my brother! There were no seat belts. The car had a "push-button" three-speed automatic transmission and whitewall tires.

As soon as the car was ready, Dad picked it up and brought back to the motel for loading. We headed south out of America's Dairyland (as it said on our Wisconsin license plates). Our route would take us through Chicago, then southwest on U.S. Route 66 to Springfield, Illinois. This was the first of many times the Rambler would travel Route 66, either east to Missouri or west to California. We'd then depart Route 66 and head west to Kansas City.
Rainfall track of Hurricane Carla,
September 1961. Click to enlarge.



We hadn't gotten very far past Chicago when a terrific rain began. Between Chicago and Springfield, the rain continued to get heavier. Before we got to Springfield, the Illinois State Police had stopped all traffic on the highway. It was too dangerous to go on. We were caught in the north-bound remnants of Hurricane Carla, one of two Category 5 storms during 1961, and at the time, the strongest storm on record in the Atlantic basin. We found a motel (no problem this time) to wait out the storm.

A day later, it was still raining, but the highway authorities had deemed the roads safe. The Rambler faced its first test and got us to Kansas City safely. After a few days with my mother's family, we headed on to Albuquerque, eventually back on to Route 66.

We kept that Rambler for eight years. During that time we took it on two trips to California and two trips to Kansas City. On the California trips along Route 66, gasoline would jump to 40 cents a gallon soon after we crossed into Arizona. "Highway robbery!" Dad would exclaim. "There ought to be a law!"

On the California trips in 1966 and 1967, we also took a new passenger: our Siamese-Persian feline, Topcat. He had the cargo area almost to himself, since his litter box was in one corner and his food and water in the other corner. That meant four kids in the back seat and lots of luggage on the roof.

I don't recall any major trouble with the Rambler until one afternoon in the summer of 1969 while Dad was in Vietnam. Mom had all four of us in the car and was backing out of the driveway when suddenly the right side of the car collapsed. Mom ordered us all out and I examined the car. The right front wheel was laying on its side about three feet away from the car. I couldn't really tell what had happened. We were on our way to someplace we really had to be, so Mom enlisted the neighbors to take us. I also don't recall what she did to get the car fixed. It turned out that the front axle had cracked (how? I don't know!) in two places.

When Dad returned from Vietnam a few months later, it was the end of the line for the 1961 Rambler. It was replaced by a brand new 1969 Ford Torino Squire station wagon. I was actually sad to see the Rambler go. We'd had a lot of good times and memories in that car.

The demise of the Rambler coincided with the end of our time in the Land of Enchantment. As soon as the Ford station wagon was delivered, we packed and headed for life's new adventures in California.

The Rambler's replacement: Ford's Torino Squire station wagon.
Pictured is a 1968 model, essentially similar to our light-blue, wood-paneled 1969 model.

Photos in this post from Wikimedia Commons.

The Family Cars, 1955-1969: Part I--The Ford

In 1955, my father bought his first car: a 1953 Ford sedan. And, of course, there's a story to that.

I've mentioned before that in the mid-1950's, we lived at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, where my dad had his first assignment in the Army. He decided that he needed a car. A friend suggested that he should go to St Louis to find a good deal on a car, there not being much commerce around Fort Lost-in-the-Woods at that time. The friend said he'd accompany Dad and help out with the dealing. The friend's presence was important for another reason: Dad had never actually driven an automobile! The plan was that they'd buy the car, and on the trip back to the Army post, the buddy would educate my father in the finer points of operating an auto.

On the appointed day, Dad took the train to St Louis. His friend had gone on ahead, and they would meet at the train station. When Dad arrived, however, his pal was nowhere to be found. Dad waited quite awhile. But he had limited time and had never been in St Louis before. So after some time as his friend had not appeared, Dad got on his cell phone and (oops, this was 1955!) Dad noticed a Ford dealer across the street from the train station.

The sales manager heard Dad's story: he was 23 years old, in the Army, with a wife and two young sons. The sales manager said, "I've got the just the car for you. My wife's been driving it and it's over at the house. I'll take you there." They went to the man's home where he showed Dad a 1953 Ford sedan. The wife served lunch and Dad and the sales manager made a deal for the car: $1100, [which seems to me a bit pricey for a two year old car in 1955] financed by the Boatmen's National Bank of St Louis, and insured by the United Services Automobile Association. The car was a Ford Mainline sedan; maroon with a white top.

Dad then commenced his own drivers education on the trip back to Fort Leonard Wood.

We would have that car for the next six years. It took us many times between Fort Leonard Wood and my mother's hometown of Kansas City. In April, 1958, we travelled to visit Dad's family in Houston.

In September, 1958, Dad got orders to Germany. We would take the Ford. We had to drive to New York to meet our ship and drop off the car. We went first to see Mom's family in Kansas City, then began the 11oo mile trip to Brooklyn. Dad, as usual, had carefully plotted out the route and scheduled stops. We'd travel across Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. We'd stop just east of Cincinnati and get a good night's rest. The next day, we'd take the Pennsylvania Turnpike through Pittsburgh and Philadelphia, and then enter the New York metropolitan area, and end up at Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn.

The first part of the trip went well. My brother and I had fun spotting different cars and license plates. My mother had my almost year old sister [and in utero brother] with her in the front seat. (This was in the days before seat belts and baby carseats). As we approached our stopping point in southeastern Ohio, the sun set and an autumn rain began to fall across the mid-Atlantic states.

By the time we got to the motel, the rain was heavy and steady. Dad got out and went to register. He was back quite quickly. He started the car and pulled back onto the highway, as my mother looked at him quizzically. Hours later through the rain, we stopped at a motel in Pittsburgh. Years later, I learned what had happened at the Ohio motel: We don't take your kind. Better keep on driving, boy. I don't care if your wife's pregnant; didn't you hear me? We don't let you people . . . .[The first and only time this happened in our extensive travels; my careful parents didn't expect it in Ohio!].

The next day we made it to Brooklyn without further incident. We stayed at the now-defunct Fort Hamilton while Dad drove the Ford to the port. Two days later, we were on a ship bound for Germany.

We went to Frankfurt, Germany, where Dad was assigned to the NATO courier service, carrying secret documents between European capitals. The Ford arrived a few weeks after we did and Dad took the train to Bremerhaven to pick it up.

My youngest brother was born in Frankfurt. After eighteen months there, Dad was transferred to Karlsruhe, Germany. We drove to the new duty station in the Ford. On the way, it began to snow and soon we were driving through a major blizzard.

Dad and the Ford got us safely to Karlsruhe. The city is near the French border and we took the car on several weekend adventures in France while we were there. My dad was in charge of special services (now called Morale, Welfare and Recreation or "MWR") in the U.S. military community around Karlsruhe. On weekends, he sometimes took us in the Ford to visit some of the facilities in the area for which he was responsible. We also visited other towns and cities in southwestern Germany.

In 1961, Dad was ordered to Albuquerque, New Mexico. He decided it was time for a new car, so before leaving Germany, he sold the Ford to another GI. In late August, 1961, we departed Germany aboard a commercial airliner and, after a refueling stop at Shannon, Ireland, landed at McGuire Air Force Base, New Jersey. The next day, we were on a train headed for Kenosha, Wisconsin, and the American Motors Company factory there.

This photograph is [probably] not the automobile my dad brought, but it looks exactly like it (including the colors)! This car is purportedly a 1954 model, while our car was a 1953. Photo from Wikimedia Commons.

Next: The Rambler