My aunt took my sisters and I, sometimes our cousins, and two other adults to church in her VW on Sundays. Now, you couldn’t stack all those people in a car without getting pulled over. Then, it was pretty routine. The best seat was in the back window well.
Trips for ice cream cones with my grandma’s fat dog, long drives in the country. I remember floating across a flooded roadway in that car during a heavy rain. We had a lot of adventures in that car.
When my aunt decided to replace that her VW, she sold it to my dad. By that time, the VW was no longer sea-worthy, the floorboards having rusted away. (They were replaced by pegboard.) Can you imagine driving a car with no real floorboard?
After failing to parallel park my parents’ giant Buick, I passed my driver’s test in the VW.
My dad mounted a big horn under the hood, and when you honked it, it would rattle the fillings in your teeth. The defroster didn’t work, so it was very interesting to drive this car in the winter.
My dad made arrangements to trade in the VW when he ordered his red Chevy Nova. By the time the newer car was ready, the VW was on it’s last leg. I held a plastic gallon jug of gasoline with a drip line (it looked like an IV) out the passenger window while my dad drove it to the dealership.