Green­briar mem­o­ries

Unique Cars - - MORLEY’S WORKSHOP -

The Triv ia l Pur­suit side­bar on page 117 of t he De­cem­ber 2016 is­sue of

Unique Cars mag­a­zine brought back many mem­o­ries. The mi­crobusst yled t hing ca lled a Green­brier was my fam­ily’s f irst car, a white 1962 model wit h si x-doors, an air­cooled, si x-cylin­der Cor vair en­gine and au­to­matic trans­mis­sion. ‘There is our car!’ my mother said when it was f irst parked in f ront of our home in Oc­to­ber 1961.

It was a ver­sa­tile ve­hi­cle for a fam­ily t hat was soon to have three young chil­dren. You could roll on the baby car­riage (pram) or t he bi­cy­cles for a fa mily trip. The Green­brier a lso did dut y haul­ing my fat her’s mo­tor­cy­cle and trans­port­ing the en­tire din­ing room set to a fac­tor y for re­hab. And it ven­tured from New York Cit y on road trips to Vir­ginia, Penn­syl­va­nia, up­state New York, the New Eng­land states, Wis­con­sin, Michi­gan and On­tario, Canada.

In 1973 by par­ents sold t heir Green­brier and carr y ing on t he tra­di­tion, bought a new V W Bus. Lawrence Stel­ter Brook­lyn, NY, USA

Mar­ley says...

NICE TO HEAR from you Lawrence. And good to know Unique Cars has a fol­low­ing in the US of A. Though, clearly, it’s still be­ing de­liv­ered on a real slow boat if you’ve only just read the last is­sue from

2016. Good to see, too, that we man­aged to stir some fond mem­o­ries.

A Green­briar must have been a blast to drive. I can just imag­ine those sketchy, 60s dy­nam­ics with a Cor­vair flat-six to power them must have been in­ter­est­ing. But I was lucky enough to visit the ar­eas you men­tioned last year when I took some time off from skin­ning my knuck­les and peering at a com­puter screen and rented an apart­ment in New York for a week and then a Jeep for the next three weeks and had me a look-around.

I think my favourite part was Maine, where I stum­bled across the Owls Head Mo­tor Mu­seum. I was so im­pressed, I ac­tu­ally did a lit­tle yarn for this mag­a­zine, and I’d dearly love to get back there one day. Driv­ing in the US is great fun; you don’t see the same de­gree of high­way-pa­trol ac­tion and you kind of have to be do­ing some­thing pretty daft to get into trou­ble with the law. Un­like here, where a hand­ful of klicks over the limit will see your wal­let empty quick smart. I liked the lo­cals in that part of Amer­ica, too. They were laid back and just folksy enough, but even in New York, I didn’t re­ally see any­thing of the leg­endary who-ca­ress­crew-you at­ti­tude that New York­ers seem to have earned for them­selves. Oh sure, they’re pretty di­rect folks and won’t hes­i­tate to tell you how it is, but by and large we all got on just fine. And a pas­trami-on-rye at Katz’s deli (where the fa­mous, ‘I’ll have what she’s hav­ing’ scene from When

Harry Met Sally was shot)? Heaven on a plate. Try the matzo-ball soup while you’re at it.

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