The Family Vault
Story 7: “That’s the One!”
Growing up, my father drove station wagons. It was a foregone conclusion, having six kids! Once during an appointment, my mother’s OB-GYN asked her if she was Catholic (given that whole “Be fruitful and multiply” thing and the fact that devout Catholics back then were loathe to use birth control). My mother answered, “No, just a sexy protestant!”
My father had a series of three station wagons: the first was a black 1962 Chevrolet Impala wagon with a creme color interior, followed by a turqoise 1968 Chevrolet BelAir wagon, and finally a 1973 Plymouth Satellite Regent in royal blue with woodgrain panels on the side. This particular event occurred in the back of the black ’62 Impala.
Back in the 1960’s, it wasn’t unheard of for people to leave their kids in the car while they ran into a store to grab a few items. That is what occurred on this particular day. We kids were in the back of the wagon, either laying there with the back seat folded down, or sitting in the rear facing seat, I don’t remember which, but either was more fun than sitting in the middle row. The rear window was down for fresh air. While we played and giggled and did the innocent childhood things that kids do while the parents are away, a strange man walked by, then stopped — and grabbing my older brother’s leg — and said threateningly, “THAT’S the ONE!” We collectively shreiked, the man let go and ran off. It was one of the scariest experiences of our young lives!
