What Was Your First Plymouth?

Illustration for article titled What Was Your First Plymouth?

We had such heartfelt responses to the question 'What was your first Pontiac?' that we're going to pose the same question with another much-beloved Detroit marque that got the axe this decade: Plymouth.


I haven't owned many Plymouths- just a lone Fury and a couple of Valiants- but I still felt real sadness when Chrysler sent the brand to The Crusher. That Fury was a fleet-spec '73 sedan formerly owned by EBMUD, the water/sewage agency popularly known as "East Bay Mud." My parents bought it for my younger sister when she turned 16, shelling out a princely $150 for it at a county auction (they came close to getting her a retired AC Transit 40' bus, but decided that some jokes aren't worth the hassle; yes, they're probably to blame for me turning out this way). It had the government-grade "everything delete" option package (no carpets, no radio, no headliner, no power accessories, dog-dish hubcaps, etc.), but included a snazzy EBMUD paint scheme (turquoise and white), a totally unkillable 318 V8, and a bunch of cryptic water-company tools in the trunk. As is the nature of 16-year-old girls the world over, my sister passionately hated the idea of being seen behind the wheel of an unwieldy, 13-year-old, cop-car-looking barge and refused to have anything to do with it. Naturally, I added it to my fleet of wretched, low-buck heaps cool machinery and drove it often. It took a while for the 318 to get 3,800 pounds of Mopar steel moving, but I've never had a car that was as much fun for dirt-road hoonage, or as good at jumping the berms at the Island Auto Movie drive-in theater (where I worked as a ticket-taker my senior year of high school), or that could withstand as many extra-cruel, Ronny Montrose-soundtrack, neutral-drop burnouts.

Now it's your turn! What was the very first Plymouth you ever owned, or rode in, or at least formed some sort of emotional attachment to?

[Image source: Old Car Brochures]



I never personally owned a Plymouth, but my mother had a Reliant while I was learning to drive. It was a 5-speed, so it had that going for it.

At the tender age of 14, a friend and I "stole" it while my parents were away, but since neither of us could drive a stick shift, we abandoned our plans of world domination after a short trip around the block, and stalling multiple times just getting back up the driveway.

A couple of years on, I was quite skilled at driving a manual transmission, and, being licensed to drive, I was actually allowed to take it out from time to time.

One winter day, a different friend and I took it out for a bit of parking lot hoonage. Reverse donuts in a snow covered Church parking lot seemed like a good idea at the time.

A few hard shifts on the drive home, and the clutch shattered on Beer Road. Unfortunately, I was not yet skilled at driving clutchless, so a mile walk back to the nearest restaurant to call home, was added to the agenda.

Sadly, it didn't last much longer, acquiring a severe rod knock about 10k miles after having the clutch replaced, but that car was a lot more fun than it should have been.