MO­TOR­ING MEM­O­RIES

They loved that old Bis­cayne

Reminisce - - Contents - BY BAR­BARA AKRIDGE • SHAWNEE, KS

It fol­lowed them home like a loyal pet.

Greg and I mar­ried in 1969, while we were still in col­lege, and we had ab­so­lutely no money. Frankly, we prob­a­bly wouldn’t have been voted most likely to suc­ceed in the mar­riage depart­ment, but we got mar­ried any­way.

A good por­tion of our wed­ding gifts came in the form of cold, hard cash. We used $600 of it to buy a 1964 Chevro­let Bis­cayne with man­ual trans­mis­sion. I had to drive it home be­cause Greg didn’t know how to work the stick shift. (I taught him later.)

We kept that Chevy for more than 10 years, and it served us faith­fully through all those Chicago, Illi­nois, win­ters. We drove it from the hos­pi­tal af­ter the births of our two el­dest boys—and would’ve done the same for our third, but he was born at home.

It was a sad day when we had to let the Bis­cayne go for some­thing newer and more de­pend­able. We took it to the sal­vage yard with a heavy heart.

About a year later, we moved to Texas, where one day out of the blue we got a call from the po­lice. We won­dered which law we’d bro­ken, but it wasn’t that. It seems the sal­vage yard had sold our old Chevy, but our names were still on the ti­tle. The new owner had driven the car from north­ern Illi­nois to the Dal­las sub­urbs, and then had aban­doned it when the Bis­cayne died on a stretch of Texas high­way that was only about 20 miles from our house. We felt bad not res­cu­ing it when it had come so far. It was al­most as if it had fol­lowed us all that way.

Even now, we can hardly think of that car with­out get­ting a bit misty-eyed. We’ve had other, sleeker ve­hi­cles since, but none im­printed it­self on our hearts like that old Bis­cayne.

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