This is for Robin - Adventures in my Camero Part I

In 1964, my family moved to St. George from Hatch, Utah, during the winter months. We still lived in Hatch during the summer/tourist season. For several weeks in the fall and spring while school was in session, my parents operated our tourist business, so I boarded with a family in St. George during the week and went home on weekends. This involved my dad driving the 100 miles over Cedar mountain to pick me up after school on Friday, bring me home, then drive me back to St. George on Sunday evening. For him, the two round trips were 400 miles each weekend.

By the time I got my Driver's License in February, 1966, I thought it would be a swell idea for me to be able to drive myself to Hatch on the weekends. I started begging and plotting for some wheels, any kind of wheels. Sure, it would be really neat to have my own car and save Dad sooooo much time, wear and tear!

One weekend in mid-September, Dad and I got back to Hatch about 5:00 p.m. I was really working him over on all the finer points of my car argument. We were in the office of our motel - The New Bryce Motel - and the office window looked down the property along the string of 24 rooms, sidewalk and guest parking area. Daddy threw a set of keys up on the counter and said, "Go see if these fit anything parked out there."

"What?" I was dazed.

"Go see if these will start any of those cars." There were four or five cars pulled up to the motel rooms.

I was so excited, I ran out the door screaming trying to figure out which car might be for me. I was running up and down the sidewalk crying, laughing and screaming. My dog Taco got all excited too and started jumping and running along with me. We got tangled up and I spread-eagled on the pavement. I skinned my knees and elbows, I was bleeding and I was really crying then.

It was a scene. Dad finally said, "Why don't you try the little white one."

That was the last one I would have expected. It was BRAND NEW; I had never seen a car like it in my life. I soon learned it was a 1967 Chevrolet Camero, and it was only 1966! GM's answer to the Mustang was not even in showrooms yet. My father had ordered it from Detroit and it was sent out to Utah by rail. (Can you even believe this?) My Dad and Mom drove up to Maryvale, Utah and they unloaded it from the train. Dad drove it home, and there it was to surprise me. Surprised I was!

It was a three speed, in-line six cylinder engine with the shifter on the column, so it was sort of whimpy as far a muscle cars go. But hey, I was a girl and didn't care about that stuff. It got me from point A to point B in big-time style and it had a good radio and black leather bucket seats. What more could I ask for? (My car didn't have the black band on the hood like the photo above, but had two tiny pin-stripes along the body.)

I got to drive it back to St. George on Sunday and to Dixie High School on Monday morning. I'll tell you, it caused no small stir at school. My Cammy was a real guy-magnet and the opposite sex was buzzing all over it in the parking lot at lunch time! I gave lots of rides that fall of my Sophomore year and more boy friends (not boyfriends) than I can count. It was the second one in town. Robert Cox had a real souped up red one, but until nearly the first of the year they were the only Cameros in town.

More to come...