"The Mighty Blue Caddy"
by
Donna Kolb

After driving only trucks for years, Mom and Dad became owners of a car. The arrival of this new car was treated with the proper reverence and awe it deserved. You see, this was not just any car. It was a brand-spanking, new, 1976, Cadillac Se Ville, sky blue, long and sleek.

"The Cadillac" as we began to refer to it, was a treat to ride in. It was the ultimate in luxury cars. Its' features included: power windows, antennae, steering, and a huge trunk that could be opened from the inside. The feature, though, that I liked best, and I think my brother's did too, was the seats. Slick, slate blue, leather seats complemented the outside decor. That wide back seat had the power to thrill and spill. As my Dad quickly accelerated from 0-80 in a matter of seconds, we eagerly anticipated any curves to come. From side to side we would slide, always fighting over who would get the middle. Somehow, it seems I always managed to be the little person on the slightly raised hump, who was crushed during a hairpin curve.

"The Cadillac" became an important part of not just our family, but extended family as well. Anyone who
needed to have medical tests done or an operation performed in a neighboring state, asked to borrow it. In fact, it was practically forced on them. Any family member's car that was in the shop for repairs was offered "The Cadillac." Also, a trip that exceeded more than 50miles, deserved to use "The Cadillac".

The first vacation I remember going on, was to Florida. My aunt, uncle and cousins drove their car and me, my brothers and Mom were in "The Cadillac". We left in the middle of the night. As my brothers fell asleep around me, I was not afraid of the dark, as I usually was. "The Cadillac" for me, was an invincible blue beacon. A few other vacations followed that. The most memorable of which, was a trip to Nashville, Tennessee.

Dad liked to leave as the sun was coming up and we soon felt it at our backs, as we sailed to Nashville in the fast moving "Cadillac." We kids reveled in the thrills of that back seat. Dad flew over the dips in the highway and we alternated between catching our stomachs, rising to the roof and sliding back and forth with each turn in the road. Our fun came to a somber halt, our first morning in Nashville.

We left the motel in search of somewhere to eat breakfast. My parents could not agree on which direction to take and we soon found ourselves in a residential section. Trying to look at road signs, a map and listen to Mom and I throw out opinions, on which way to turn, it was no wonder Dad did not see the stop sign at an intersection . He stopped though, just as we crossed into it and another car careened into the back of "The Cadillac's long tail, spinning us around. When we landed, we were facing the opposite way from which we had come. We all sat there for a moment, stunned, not understanding exactly what had happened. Mom and Dad looked at each other and then back at us. There we sat in that back seat, piled together in one corner. Our eyes questioned and then everyone's mouth began working at once. As Mom and Dad got out to see what had taken place, we pushed away from each other. We knew one thing for certain. We had just experienced the most intense sliding curve that could ever happen to a kid. We smiled. "The Cadillac" was an awesome ride.

As the years went by, most of the thrill subsided and some of the reverence we had held for "The Cadillac" faded. We began to examine its' faults. For example, it was a "gas guzzler." Second, you could not parallel park it in a normal parking space. Third, it was so easy to get a ticket when driving it. Before you knew it, you were driving close to 80 and passing everyone. Also, the air conditioner was forever torn up. No matter how many times Mom "had them fix it," it would suddenly blow hot air. Another reason "The Cadillac" lost some respect was the way people would do a double take, when you passed, which we attributed to it resembling its' close cousin "The Hearse." I guess, the biggest reason "The Cadillac" lost favor with us though, was age. And so, it began to be found more frequently parked in the garage, than on the road. Just as that changed, so did its name. We began calling it "The Caddy" rather than "The Cadillac."

"The Caddy" was still used for special occasions. For example, I wielded that big blue car to pick up my date for the senior prom. My antebellum dress would not have fit in a smaller car. Four years later, my brother Jeff proudly drove it to his prom. Six years after that, my brother Brian was offered the car for his prom. However, he stated that, under no circumstances, would he be driving "The Caddy." By that time driving "The Caddy" was definitely not cool.

Later, when I was an adult, Mom, my son and I, took Mamaw, in "The Caddy", to have an outpatient procedure done in Kingsport, Tennessee. "The Caddy," it was felt was needed, because of the large back seat it possessed. Mamaw, we feared, might need to lie down afterward. On the way back home, the weather became stormy. Limbs blew across the road and it began to rain. I tried to converse with Mamaw and her anesthetic induced ramblings, while Mom concentrated on the road. As we climbed the steep mountain road, a glaring bolt of lightning cut across in front of the car and struck a tree just in front of the right side of the car. Mom valiantly applied the brakes, just as the tree crashed in front of the fender. We later remarked, that had we been going seconds faster, or been driving any other vehicle, we would not have been so lucky.

"The Caddy" again acted like a well-trained child, once when my Mamaw was behind the wheel . She, Mom, and my brother Brian were driving back from my baptismal service in Salem, Virginia. Mamaw, who can be a speedy driver, was not holding back and neither was "The Caddy," according to my brother. That is, she was not, until she glanced over at Mom and announced, "Why Sue, I believe we're out of gas." At that point, the car sputtered and an exit ramp miraculously appeared. Mamaw skillfully put the car in neutral and glided down to a gas station, where I am told two fellows pushed it to the pumps.

Nowadays, when you go out into the garage, it soon becomes apparent that "The Caddy" has been given a new purpose in life. "The Caddy" has been fitted with a matching pale blue tarpaulin. You could say, "The Caddys" new calling in life, has basically become that of a huge, blue shelf. Unrelated articles now adorn its hood, roof, and trunk. It usually contains several pairs of shoes, dog or cat food and depending on the season, may contain vegetables, fruitcakes or tins of candies.

"The Caddy's" outings in the past few years, have been reduced to one time per year. My brothers told me that each year, Mom announced that "The Caddy" needed to be started and driven. Of course, this meant removing all of the paraphernalia on top, as well as, the matching blue tarpaulin. Then, when they tried to start it, the battery would have run down and require a boost. Next, it was off to the intended destination-the service station, to get a new inspection decal. During the ride home, my brothers explain, Mom generally heard some foreign noise that required a stop by a tire dealership. The tires had either dry rotted or the belts had broken, both of which was caused by the car setting idle so long. Finally, as they returned home, new decals had to be administered to the tags and then the tarpaulin and assorted things returned to the top of the car, (but only after it cooled down).

Recently, Mom decided not to renew the tags, for what is now being referred to as, "The Old Caddy." She said it was just too much trouble and costly. She explained, that finding somebody to remove all the stuff off it and finding the time to get it inspected was a hassle. Then the money spent, while it was out for no more than half of a day, was not economical. But, as she and Dad have decided, it would not pay to sell it now, either. After all, "The Old Caddy" has just recently risen to another position: "antique".