My parents moved from a third-floor walkup apartment in the Highland Park section of Pittsburgh out to the suburbs in 1965. They bought a wagon-a leftover midsize 1964 Mercury wagon with woodgrain on the sides-because that’s just what you did back then.
That’s the only wagon they ever had.
Dad had cool cars before that-a ’51 Ford, a ’56 Ford and a ’61 Chevy-all convertibles, and a ’54 Olds ’98 coupe. And after; they traded the wagon in on a ’70 Olds Cutlass SX. Turns out you don’t need a wagon to haul two kids around; I recall having short legs back then so the small back seat area didn’t bother me. And the trunk and back seat held all the groceries a family of four consumed every week.
That was a great car. It had the big 455 engine. Mom liked to squeal the tires a little going around a particularly sharp turn on Bigelow Blvd. near the Bloomfield Bridge. Do that in a wagon!
So, no wagon nostalgia for me. Oh wait-my uncle had one. I rode in the rear-facing seat of his ’77 Caprice when I was ten. I now know why they called that the “carsick seat”. Not a fond memory.