My Mom had an early 60s Ford Falcon. When my folks moved from St. Louis to California (before I existed) they realized the all black car needed an air-conditioner. They took the car to the Ford dealer to have one installed. The result was that my folks stopped buying Ford products. Forever. That made us into a GM family, and that meant a long line of B-Bodies! I'm not 100% sure, but I'm fairly certain the old man actually pulled off the trifecta of at one point having an Olds, Buick and of course Pontiac station wagon. We never had the Chevy, though...

This leads us nicely to today's winning Commenter, 1300ccsoffury. His comment comes from today's post about the (once again) sad decline of station wagons in the US:

That photo could have come my family's own album, though ours would be Mormon-free. We had that same wagon, though ours was melted-chocolate-ice-cream-brown with the fake wood paneling. And it was the Oldsmobile version, not that it mattered much in those days (thanks for the mediocrity Roger Smith!). Those wagons had that rear-facing seat that flipped up in the back that I loved, because you could pump your arm to all the truckers and they'd blare their horn as you passed them by. Lots of great family trips in that wagon, and I actually shed a tear when it left our driveway for the last time.

Check out those panel gaps! You could slam the door on your hand and never feel a thing!

Man, making the truckers honk was fun.