Nash

Dad bought the Nash in 1949, it was brand new. We did not have a lot of new so it was something.

That year Dad’s next older brother (Dad was the youngest of 4 brothers) lived with us. It seems that he worked with dad in construction. During this time Dad was a house builder.

The two brothers bought new Nash cars the same time. Dad’s was a NEW and IMPROVED 1949, and Marion bought a left over 1948 at a discount.

One morning Mom came into my room: “Get up and pack your things, we are moving to California -- today.” Shucks why would a kid need to have a lot of advance warning!

Grandma, dad’s mother, lived in Santa Cruz, a sleepy town 70 miles south of San Francisco, a smallish city at the time. Santa Cruz is right on the top corner of Monterey Bay. Grandma had a couple of lots and she wanted dad to build her a house or two (he ended up building a house and a duplex).

I cannot remember how we made the move. It was a temporary move, we all knew that, so we did not even rent the house out we just left it, took what we needed and left. Dad did not own a pickup or a truck at that point, so my guess is that whatever he had in tools, along with the 5 of us (brother was a year old) our clothes and gear all went into that cavernous Nash.

Dad was born and raised in San Jose, now in the heart of Silicone Valley and he knew his way around, so we visited and traveled and saw a lot of the area, in that Nash.

About a year later we moved back to Idaho in that same Nash.

I remember dad going on jeep trails with that crazy Nash. He had no idea of limitations, and would come down roads that were really off limits. “DALE!” mom would scream as he went over the edge on a “short cut”.

We made a longer trip once with the 5 of us plus Grandma. since she was not my grandma don't know as much about her as my brother for instance, but I have definite memories. Another story.

In Idaho, dad had trouble getting his construction going again, a lesson there for all would be entrepreneurs. As I remember he went back into trucking then. He was gone a lot, leaving mom and we kids with the Nash. We did alright that way.

When Miriam and I were dating we went out in that Nash once. But as I put the dates back together it had to be the other Nash dad owned. Any way, it made into a bed also, and we laid the seats down, and leaning against the back seat we sat and talked and. . .

It was not near as racy as it might sound. Miriam was adamant about where hands went and didn’t go and where the clothing was (ON). We talked and we made out, but nothing heavy. (I do not take credit for that, I was over hormoned). It must have been vacation because Miriam was staying at our house.

When we got back home, way later than we should (though mom never scolded me) while getting out of the car I bumped the horn ring and the blast (they made strong horns in those days) woke the whole family.

Not too much longer I left home (I was barely 18) and never lived there again. I don’t remember what happened to dad’s string of Nashs, but that bathtub stays in my mind, and positively so.

Sorry that had to be such a dull story