My first car was a white 1964 Chrysler Newport Sedan. It was my best car.
I “inherited” it from my Grandfather sometime in the late 90’s. If I had to guess I would say it was 1988. My Grandfather was still alive when I got it, but the family had removed it from his house when he wouldn’t stop driving despite the fact that he could hardly hear or see.
The last time I rode in that car with him was quite the experience, let me tell you. I distinctly remember my grandmother yelling at him what the color of the lights were and when he needed to stop.
I learned how to drive in that car. Not legally, mind you. When my Mother and her partner would leave town I would take the car out, pick up my friends, and go joy riding. I eventually got busted for doing this because they checked the odometer against the mileage that was on the car before they left.
Another interesting side note to that – I still straight up lied about it and refused to take responsibility. I was quite the asshole as a teenager.
In any case, when I was legally able to drive I was given the Newport. I promptly dubbed it Bessie, the Hungry Heifer, because fuel efficiency was not a thing that mattered when that beautiful beast was built. My Grandfather had taken immaculate care of that car and everything still worked, up to and including the totally awesome PUSH BUTTON GEAR SHIFT.
Retro Sci-Fi console vibes galore, my friends.
I have probably told this story here on multiple occasions, but the abbreviated sad end to my time with Bessie was when I completely totaled it by driving like an asshole. I almost killed a small child in the process, not to mention the three passengers that were in the car with me, but Bessie was the only actual casualty that day.
I have always wanted to replace that car, but of course as the years have passed that has become more and more of an increasingly expensive pipe dream. Still, no car I have had since has come close to being as awesome as The Hungry Heifer.