Cars are undeniably a part of American culture. They’re not just metal with wheels; they power our daily lives—taking us to work, guiding us home, and helping us explore. From the moment we leave the hospital as newborns to those somber rides in hearses, cars are integral to our experiences.
I remember when I got my first car. It felt like a rite of passage. I might have been young and a little naive, but I basked in the sense of freedom it gave me.
1978 Oldsmobile Starfire
My first vehicle was a 1978 Oldsmobile Starfire, handed down from my grandpa for just a dollar. It was this lovely light blue, and driving it felt like stepping into a classic film. I adored watching it parked in the driveway, a little vintage gem that was all mine. But one ill-fated morning, it met its end in a ditch. That was it for the Starfire.
1993 Plymouth Voyager
Next came a van—my parents’ trusty 1993 Plymouth Voyager. Not the most glamorous ride, with a door jammed with sand and a crank window that resisted my attempts to use it. Still, it was perfect for late-night drives with my girlfriend and took us to our favorite restaurant south of town. I did end up with a couple of speeding tickets in that old van.
1984 Buick Skylark
After the van came a 1984 Buick Skylark, purchased for $450. It was a beautiful cream color with a plush brown interior. I drove it everywhere—road trips, late-night adventures. It was old, even back then, but it felt reliable. I later sold it to my brother for $300. After moving to Chicago, I found I really didn’t need a car for nearly a decade.
2007 Volvo XC90
My next vehicle was a 2007 Volvo XC90, which I got with my then-girlfriend—now my wife—after we tied the knot. I borrowed the money to buy it, and we paid back her grandparents over time. The XC90 was a sturdy vehicle, but it didn’t last long before it started having issues. Looking back, it served as a metaphor for our new life together; it was no longer “my” car, but “our” car.
2009 Volvo S70
Then came the 2009 Volvo S70. This was the car that welcomed our first child home. It held a lot of memories during those early years of parenting. But it wasn’t without its quirks. It had this odd tendency to stall in freezing temperatures. If it dipped below twenty degrees, I had to mess with a starter plugged in and wait. Our last journey in that car was quite dramatic: I drove my wife to the hospital during a snowstorm, and the vehicle eventually overheated after a mishap with a piece of ice. It was towed away, leaving us with an ambulance ride instead.
2017 Honda HR-V
Shortly after, we received a Honda HR-V from my wife’s grandmother, who had never used it. It’s turned into our family vehicle, accommodating our three kids. It’s been a decent car, and I imagine it helps define a particular phase of our lives. We’ve had our share of ups and downs in it, but it feels like a chapter yet to be fully written. Hopefully, one day, it will be seen as a great car in our story.
Reflecting on all these vehicles, it’s clear to me that our lives have passed through these cars—each one marking a significant point in our journey. Cars are more than just machines; they are vessels of memories, carrying us from one moment to the next.
