Your childhood cars?  

Cool idea. I don't have family pictures at hand, so these are same cars I found online.
Don't know why, but we were a Chrysler family back when I was a child. First car I remember was a 58 Chrysler 4 door. This might be my favorite childhood car - I loved the fins on the back of this car, even after they became decidedly dated and un-cool in the 60's. Even at my young age I was sad to see it go. After the 58 Chrysler, my family had a 68 Plymouth, which became the car I learned to drive in and this one survived until the 80's. I always thought this looked kind of like the batmobile. Meanwhile my grandmother had a 63 Plymouth 2 door coupe in Arizona (coolest feature - push button transmission on the dash). Classic tale of a little old lady in Arizona so the car was still in great shape when it showed up in MA in the 70's. I inherited this car and drove it up until the 90's.
The last one isn't a family car, but is a car I bought (and still have) from this era, a 61 MGA. I guess it qualifies as a car from my second childhood? I drove this in the 90's, and it isn't even on the road at this point, but its patiently waiting, one of the many projects I want to get to eventually.

My dad was a car guy. These are the one's I can remember:
- Austin Healey - a 3000 I think. LOVED THAT CAR. Sounded just right
- For my Mother a 1953 MG TD. This was our cruise around car. I was small enough to sit in the area behind the seats, which was about the size of of cooler. Seatbelts? HAH!
- He had some crazy powerful Ford at one point. Said it was the only car that scared him. I am pretty sure it was a Shelby (by this point my folks were split)
- My mother had a Bug, of course. Probably about a 1960-62. Low seats.
- My mother's first car that she bought herself? A pinto wagon. Beige. Golly
- Her boyfriend at the time (I was probably 7-10 or so) had a Masarati Bora and a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow. Smelled lovely

My parents always kept 3 cars in the garage, 1 for each, and then the "special" car. They both thought that Mercedes Benz was the best fit for all occasions (father acquiring a new S-Class every other year, and Mother usually refusing to upgrade her SL, but conceded only when insisting upon keeping the prior model in case she didn't like the replacement) .... I have 2 of them in my small collection of old German iron. The "special" car was a seldom driven Silver Shadow (replaced every so often). I do remember Mother picking me up from elementary school in a BMW Isetta (Red/White). My boyfriend (1st grade) at the time liked the way one entered the machine. We also had a 1966 Ford Bronco used only to plow our lane. After a couple of decades, the Bronco had less miles on it than a 2 year old car, but had enough rust to give you a skin disorder. Once when I was quite young, my father bought a new big Cadillac so that he and I could take a road trip from Illinois....all the way to Alaska!! It was a new 1967 Fleetwood (white on white). About half way though the poorly planned trip, the beast broke down. We flew home. I was pissed. I still am. I blame Ray.
As usual,
Aunt Mark

When I was very little, we had a big ol' honkin' Plymouth sedan from the early 50s and I remember standing on the back seat when my mom was driving. A few years later we got a brand new VW bug, blue, into which our family of 7 allegedly fit. I mean, I know we did because I lived it. We even drove my grandparents ninety miles to the train station with all five of us kids in it and my parents. Horrors. I used to ride in that luggage compartment in the back, which I didn't like because it was really, really scratchy rug-like upholstery!
Later, when everyone grew too large to fit, we got a VW Microbus which we all thought was loads of fun despite stuff like the window cranks falling off. And still later we got another Bug, this time red.
I'd never buy a VW but it was fun while it lasted. Sort of. (Driving in the bitter Wisconsin winter with no heat and those thin doors and floor wasn't so great.)

It is good to have nice memories.
My father was employed by Ford Motor Company. Your car (and division marque) were determined by your corporate level.
My father enjoyed foreign cars and gave my mother a TR3 when my sister and I were in elementary school. I remember riding in the front passenger seat with my sister behind us and the tonneau cover unzipped over my mother as we drove in a rain storm. I thought it was fun.
My mother is 80 and still rides in a 1986 Porsche 924S gave gave her for her 50th birthday. Truly it is the "little old lady from Pasadena".
Thanks for the topic.

On old Saab that looked like a beetle. It crawled up the hills. Had to have two of them to keep one running. And it would never start without spraying carburetor fluid into the carb. That was my job: unscrew the thumb screw over the air filter and carb, spray, wait for my father to get the thing going, then put the lid back on and screw the thumb screw onto the post, which is not so easy while the engine is running.

Interesting thread! Made me realize that my father, a designer who noticed, and cared about, the details of a room, a piece of furniture, a city street, a plant or a flower, didn't care at all about cars. My mother didn't either, far as I can remember -- we lived in the suburbs and she was the one doing most of the driving. My parents usually had some Buick or something (yeah, I'm not a car person either) and drove it forever, at a time when a new car every few years was a big thing. But, I remember when my father brought this one home: pale blue Ford station wagon. He had the smile of a man who'd survived the Depression and a world war, and was providing for his family. Happy! My sister and I fought over the backseats, for no reason except to fight about something. Seatbelts? Hah!

VW Beetle here, too. Actually, it was a Super Beetle, with a slightly larger trunk than the normal Beetle -- a good thing, because our family of six would sometimes travel cross-country in that car with all our luggage.
Also a Jeep that my Dad brought with him when we returned to the States after his military service in Africa. But it turned out to be impossible to register here, so he didn't drive it. My memories are mostly of playing in and around it while it slowly rusted in our driveway.

Pacer!

61 dodge polara. also pushbutton trans. dig those crazy fins man. story goes gramps lost it to my dad in a poker game.