by Diana Peyton

Created on: October 10, 2008

I had fun, fun, fun in my T-bird and daddy never took it away! She was beautiful! White landau top, dusty rose in color this '63 Ford had all the bells and whistles. In 1969 at 17, I was a saucy, natural blonde and fit the car like the chassis that held her. Every time I hit the seat, I was alive, free, and grown-up!

Little did I know when that sweet set of wheels rolled up to my front door that it would carry me off to my wedding day, into a new life in another state, via a cross country honeymoon with a soldier who was about to enter my horizon.

It was a fluke that I acquired such a nice car. Having a used car salesman in the family made it likely I would not end up with a clunker but never would I have imagined cruising in such a classic. My cousin's husband brought the car to my house, sight unseen; I didn't even have to search for one. She just rolled up to the door, shining and ready for housing long and late night talks with friends, dates and beach trips.

First cars back then were grand ideas. Who could afford one? We scrimped and saved and dreamed and worked hard to be able to buy something to get around in that had four wheels instead of two. Most of us considered make and model to be a luxury. Happy we were to have something of our own.

I worked at the corner hamburger stand after school and on weekends. I made enough money to purchase the car and the insurance, and I remember having some change to spare to buy a burger with friends.

No one got a car who could not work for it in the old days. There were few who got a free ride from mom and dad. Before I got the T-bird, my father offered his 1965 olive green Ford Mustang to me, to make payments on, but we were not wealthy by any means and I knew that if I accepted his offer, he would have little to put down on another new car. For the sake of his financial state, I declined to accept his offer.

It was at the hamburger stand that life as I know it now birthed itself- through the take- out window. My husband at the time was a young Marine who had just finished boot camp and was home on leave. He pulled into the drive-thru in his father's '67 T-bird. Not only did the car catch my eye, but also so did the mischievous smile on the soldier, whose short hair and polite manner captured me.

I remembered him from my early school years and at one point in high school, he sat directly in front of me. He bothered me incessantly and I used to wonder what his problem was. Now was it the car or the man, or perhaps just fate. Would we be together if he had been driving a Corvair or a Barracuda? Who knows!

We drove my T-bird to Las Vegas where we married, returned to North Carolina for him to finish his tour of duty and he drove it home to California when he was discharged. Sadly, he drove the poor thing to the ground to get home. It sat in the driveway of our rented house for 10 years. As a young couple, we had no money to repair it and finally had to give it away.

We've been married thirty-seven years and it's still fun, fun, fun. Now I have a '91 Camaro with a T-top. After 17 years she still purrs and runs like new, but our trips now are to the Southern California beaches.

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