I grew up in Northern Illinois, and during my youth I had a range of memorable cars. My first memorable car was a 60 something Nash Rambler. It was a 4-door, faded lime green (from being in the sun constantly and never being waxed), 3-speed on the column stick, and seats that laid all the way back into a bed-like formation. It was my first beater car that I shared with my older brother.
My second car was a dark blue, 1967 Tempest. Nothing special. Cloth bench seats. A small V-8 engine. Pretty plain-jane kind of car, but is was fairly good transportation. My funny GM starts here. One winter evening I was participating in a progressive supper with my youth group. It was snowing lightly, so the roads were a bit slick. As we traveled from one country destination to another, I slowed down and stopped at a STOP sign. A friend of mine was following when he hit a slick spot on the road and nudged me from behind. The right rear tail light was busted. But what made this experience memorable was the name change my car incurred that evening. The bump also broke the Tempest nameplate on the trunk, with the “Tem” falling off. The “pest” survived. From that day forward, my car was referred to as “the pest.”
As much as we like to discuss the many failures of GM, many of us also have fond memories. These memories remain vibrant today and shaped our passion for cars. Regardless what happens to GM, this institution was an important part of our culture and our being.
