Not that long ago and relatively close
by.
I am Joseph’s first car that was passed down to him by his Dad in 1973. I’m a 1967 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon. I am a full-sized station wagon and I have eight cylinders and that popular fake wood paneling and a luggage rack. When I was brand new I was without a doubt a very handsome station wagon with fixed-glass, roof-mounted skylights over the second-row seating with sun visors for the second row passengers, a raised roof behind the skylight and lateral glass panels over the rear cargo area along the raised roof — and three rows of forward-facing passenger seating. My sky light window over the second row of seats was very striking and it is something that no other cars had. I could easily seat nine or even ten people inside and I also had a rear tailgate with a retractable electric window. My exterior paint color was called “Silver Moss,” by General Motors. It’s a silvery light green color that matches my second owner’s Joseph’s eyes. I’m lying, Joseph's eyes are brown and in his eyes I was not cool. Not cool at all and he let me know this with his 20 year old sass, every time he drove me. But he didn’t keep me for long because he sold me to an acquaintance after only two months because he had a better option. Here above is a picture of a car just like me since we can’t seem to find an actual picture of me. Joseph certainly did not bother to take any and if his dad took my picture I don’t know about it.
My most interesting time as a car was when Joseph’s Dad still owned me but he allowed Joseph’s slightly older brother Martin to drive me when we were in High School. Yup he had a car load of teenage boys with him and fortunately Joseph was along for the ride too as you shall see. Yup the teens had been smoking funny stuff on that very night. They drove me up a curvy secluded road to South Mountain Reservation which means going up a very steep and long dark curving road going up up up. South Mountain Reservation is a nature reserve covering 2,110 acres on the Rahway River that is part of the Essex County Park System, in northeastern New Jersey, United States. After going up the steep hill we came back down it again on as I have said, a dark curving road and the kids in the car started engaging in some horseplay by shouting at my driver Martin to, “Corner it Martin" as he sort of sped down the hill. My tires were making what the kids thought was a cool sound as they squealed on the curves to more shouting of, “Corner it Martin!” I don’t recall if Joseph was shouting this too. To be truthful, I mostly remember it was Barry and his brother Rowan and other friends Regus and Bernie (yes the friends names have been changed to protect the not so innocent) who were doing all the shouting. It should come to you as no surprise that although I as a car, could handle all of this misuse my driver Martin, could not. He missed cornering this one curve, lost control of me and ran me right off the road into a thicket of trees! We crashed sideways into some trees but thank God they were smallish trees that didn’t stop us dead. Eventually we broke through the trees into a clearing and my driver braked to a stop and cut my engine off and the shaken and stirred but not hurt teenagers piled out of me. They were some lucky little blokes as they stood around me in open mouthed shock! There is more. Their luck almost ran out because, I was still in drive with no parking brake set and on a hill overlooking a lake at the bottom of the hill. I didn’t want to move, but gravity made me and I started rolling down the hill faster and faster to presumably plunge into the lake at the bottom. Lucky for everyone present, Joseph reacted and chased after me and so did Barry. Joseph climbed into my open back tail gate window, had to scramble over three sets of seats and just in time pressed down on my brake pedal with his arms and hands to stop my roll into the lake, where I probably would have Chappaquiddicked Joseph. Barry also assisted in stopping me from taking the plunge by chasing me, climbing in though the driver’s door and throwing my shift column into park just as Joseph got me stopped.
As a car, I didn’t exactly see my life’s story passing before me, but I did see plenty of trees and tree limbs rushing by and smacking me up against the windows and along my right side making loud whacking and crunching sounds that seemed to go on forever. But I was a good car who after taking such a bad licking kept on ticking. To all of our surprise, the boys were able to get me started and all four of my tires were still intact. Together, we were able to laboriously get me out of the clearing, back through the trees we had crashed through and back out onto the road. After that Mr. Martin, our intrepid driver drove me clattering and wobbling all the way back home to face the music.
As to what happened to Martin and Joseph after they dropped off the rest of my passengers and finally arrived home after midnight!? That is another story, but it ended well since not one of the boys had a scratch on them. I the car was not so lucky. Alas, my entire right side was smashed to smithereens! I would forever be viewed after this accident as a banged up, Rolling Total yet I, a 1967 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser Station Wagon, had kept my passengers safe! That was something I was proud of for the rest of my service life. I also think that Joseph was just a little bit proud of me too. After all, he did help me write my story.
Happy Motoring! But I strongly urge you to never allow your teenagers to drive a car transporting more than one passenger under the age of 21, excluding family members. Trust me, it's a very bad idea.
