Apparently the RantParents are just going to be particularly on RantWuman's mind on the 18th of every month for a while. In honor of that, RantWoman offers a tribute to various flavors of transportation realities.
RantDad: never talked about gas rationing during WWII but probably experienced it. The Righteous Rev. RantGrandad's job involved driving around WY and doing multiple church services in different small towns. RantDad, his sister and their mother all set the musical tone.
RantWoman has the impression that the WY town where RantDad grew up was compact enough that RantDad and his sister probably just walked to school. No horses for sure.
RantWoman has no idea how RantDad traveled between the University of WY and home, most likely by car.
RantDad's first car, something green or the first family car, bought used a 1955 red and black Plymouth affectionately known as the Red Rocket. The red Rocket served faithfully well into RantWoman's childhood but got totaled when hit broadside while the family was out on snowy streets looking at Christmas lights.
The next car a red and white custom Travelall. "Custom" meant split doors in the back, heaters under the BACK seat. Previously the Travelall belonged to a florist. The RantFamily toted around a lot of timpani, a harpsichord, and assorted other family musical instruments. Eventually, after timpani rolling around loose cracked the back windows a couple times, "secure your load" sank in.
Childhood involved a couple trips over the rive and through the woods for family holidays or in one case for medical consultation in Denver.
RantDad probably flew at most two round trips in his life. One trip was travel with the college band where he taught to the 1965 World's Fair in NY. That MAY have been a bus trip. The other was while RantWoman was in high school, round trip to Denver for eye surgery because the family ophtahalmologist told RantDad he did not operate on friends or relatives.
Eventually the Travel-all yielded to a Cutlass Ciera. Through most of the RantParents' marriage, only one parent drove the family vehicle. RantMom took over driving duties shortly after a road trip where RantDad got ticketed for driving too slowly at dusk on a two-lane road in SD.
RantDad was never much of a walker; for aerobic fitness he relied mainly on being a woodwind player. For his final years, he relied on RantMom to drive him around. He sometimes complained to RantWoman that RantMom's driving rattled his nerves though at that point RantMom's driving seemed fine to RantWoman.
As an aside, RantWoman finally got a learner's permit and drivers license as a senior. Finally, because in MT people can get a learner's permit at 14.5 and a license at 15 if they have had driver's ed. RantWoman has NO memory of either parent riding with RantWoman in student driver months. It must have happened. RantWoman got a license albeit while losing points because of a vision issue.
RantMom's transportation story was more interesting. Growing up on the farm, the family went to church in a horse-drawn cart. RantMom, her two sisters and a aunt who was close in age all rode to school on a horse until high school High school was far enough away that RantMom, her older brother and a cousin piled into a pickup.
RantMom's parents dropped her off from college at her first teaching job from then on, RantMom's transportation was pretty tied up with RantDad for a LONG time. RantMom got to be basically an old hand about flying.
The most heroic part of RantMom's transportation story: RantMom moved from MT to Seattle while still recovering from back to back cancer treatments. RantMom also quit driving.
RantMom confessed that she had been running about 1 fender bender a year in MT, often during the spring when. She did not really have budget for a car. Her first apartment was along Rainier Avenue, a lot narrower and with much heavier traffic flow than the "busy" streets near the rantFamily home in MT.
Instead RantMom IMMEDIATELY took to the bus. She was not super adventurous but quickly fond a church on a doable route. She also learned how to get to the Fred Hutchison cancer care center where she volunteered, as well as to the RantSisters' places. RantWoman still beams about the pluck of all that.
Eventually ACCESS and the vans from her different retirement communities replaced bus routes, but the key things were the horses and the sudden switch to the bus.
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