Road Trip Comforts in a 1979 Station Wagon

But, like the throngs of modern minivan owners, the station wagon was a forced possession that parents of yesteryear felt compelled to own by sheer necessity, rather than desire.  It had, after all, a number of merits that no two-door model could ever compete with.  Although it’s hard for today’s minivan owners to imagine how an oversized buick, with a rear-facing seat instead of trunk, could provide any roadtripping luxuries, they might alter their view if they try to imagine the headspace of a parent in the 1970’s and 80’s. 

While today’s family road warriors rely on built-in video screens, hand-held electronics, and spacious interiors to assuage discomforts, families of the past had something else entirely: freedom.  Seat belts were voluntary (read: unused), kids outgrew car seats before they learned how to walk, and the only law drivers really had to obey was the speed limit.  Undoubtedly, today’s web of rules around car safety has cushioned many children from injury.  But just imagine the possibilities.

During our first couple of drives from Toronto to Florida, we had to make do with the usual passenger set up.  Two kids were stuck facing oncoming traffic in the back seat while other three of us shared the middle row (the sucker in the centre with knees crammed into his chest because of the “bump” upon which his feet had to rest.)  When we got tired of sitting upright, we’d spread out a little more.

“Just lie down,” our parents would advise us (and be quiet, they’d think).  Obediently, we’d reposition ourselves so that two bodies laid head to foot on the middle seat, one sprawled uncomfortably across the dirty carpeted floor, while in the back seat, a body laid on the cushioned seat and another on the floor (thankfully bump-free.)  When the yelling and fighting over who got stuck on the crappy floor bed got too out of hand, Mom or Dad would simply whip a hand to the back and lay a wallop on whomever was closest.  Another freedom of the times – good old fashioned kid-smacking.

One year, they came up with a splendid idea to finally end the sibling friction caused by seat preference.  All the seats behind the driver were folded down so that the entire back of the station wagon was levelled.  Then my parents pulled off a single mattress from my sister’s bed and hauled into the back of the car.  They didn’t want to hear a single complaint about a bump the entire ride to Florida.  And they didn’t.  The wagon raced along the freeways while we repositioned to our hearts’ content.  My brothers got to have wrestling matches, I got to sleep cuddled up in comfort, potato chips were served in one big bowl that we could all eat together (crumbs didn’t bother us so much in those days.)  It was a dream road trip, by any kids’ standard.  And I’m certain the cops we passed along the way – to whom we gestured with the usual peace sign – thought the same thing.  After all, it was a different time.