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September 1956. My father, me and the new Rambler on its first long ride, at Squaw Rock on U.S. 101 south of Ukiah, California, captured by my brother on Ektachrome. Could almost be a new card ad, except I'm not running around laughing hysterically. View full size.
Tterrace, I'm glad you posted those Rambler photos. The one I learned a stickshift with was much like the first one your family had, though in nowhere near as good a shape. The pale-blue paint on it was so chalky it left marks on your clothes.
In 1967, my dad came to me and said, "Son, I want you to talk to your mother. She has her heart set on a new Riviera Gran Sport, and I can get a new Rambler Ambassador, which looks just as nice to me, for half the price." I explained to my dad that the Ambassador was a nice-looking car, but the Buick was spectacular (though I wanted a Toronado).
Guess which one we ended up with?
had a Rambler~ And I remember how she would steer the thing while looking through the steering wheel. Used to scare me to death. I don't know whether the steering wheel was enormous or she was really, really small.....
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