Growing up – at least the early part of my growing up, during the exciting Ford administration, my family had two cars: a 1968 Volkswagen Beetle and a 1973 Ford LTD Country Squire, complete with acres of fake wood on the sides. The Beetle was by far the more influential car in my life, but I liked that massive Ford wagon, too. And I just learned about an option these came with that I had no idea existed.
The Country Squire was a sort of strange car for my family, in hindsight. There were four of us, and we were all fairly diminutive people, Shtetl Hobbits, I think is the official term. We could all fit in the Beetle, including two grandparents and me happily lounging in the rear luggage well, no problem.
So, with that in mind, the huge Ford seems like an awful lot more car than we actually needed.
I have a pictures of me with the old Beetle:
…and there must be a few with the Ford somewhere, but I’m not sure where they are. Still, we used the car plenty, and one of the details I remember most about it was that it had jump seats in the rear, a pair of facing seats oriented sideways under the rear cargo floor.
You can see them referenced in that ad above there, and I remember those seats very well. Why we needed a car that could have hauled like nine people isn’t really clear to me, but we definitely had one. That car was absolutely massive! It also had a big 6.5-liter V8 that made all of like 160 hp, connected to a three-speed auto that would pop out of park sometimes, so instead of a recall, Ford sent everyone a little sticker that basically said, oh, be careful so it doesn’t do that, no backsies.
Back to that ad up there; look between the jump seats and you can see the option I never knew about:
The “recreation table!” How cool is that! I could have been a childhood chess hustler working out of the back of my dad’s station wagon, if only I, you know, didn’t profoundly suck at playing chess! But maybe I’d have been so much better if every road trip had this table, making road-chess an option!
Or, more likely, I would have made the knights fight like action figures and pretended the bishops were rockets.
Was this table magnetic? That’s my question. Because those little girls up there playing checkers would find it nearly impossible if not, with pieces sliding around everywhere as that big wagon wallowed over speed bumps at 45 mph or being flung at an exit at 70 mph because in the days before GPS, missing an exit meant serious consequences of lost time.
Here’s a video of someone who has sourced one:
Those jump seats that he installed were the same upholstery as the ones in our car – I believe Ford called that color “forgotten gravy” – and I swear looking at this video I can feel those seats.
Also, what game is this guy playing, exactly? Chesseckers? Checkess?
The sorts of proto-cupholders seen on this are interesting, too: there’s an open hole, which actually could work fine, for the right size and shape cup, and then there’s the shallow round depression, only good for cups when absolutely stationary, or perhaps for holding small snacks or items, like peanuts or lego heads. Best not mix those two up, though.
The old Fords with their notorious shift linkage…
The starting procedure required reaching over the steering column with your left arm and raising the shift lever to “Park” position with your left hand while using your right hand to turn the key.
Hey Torch – what’s up with the front bumper on that 68 Beetle? Aftermarket over-riders to make it look like a pre-68?
I’m a VW nut from way back, and I have never seen this before.
“Forgotten Gravy”… I love you, Torch. :.D
Hi Jason, I first met you about thirteen years ago in Austin TX prior to, I think, the first MotoGP at COTA. I arrived at a Jalop meet at a parking lot with my 1972 Ford Country Squire and met fellow fans of characterful iron. Since then, we’ve also met at Amelia with my Kraftwerk 1949 Beetle, so I guess there’s a Squire-Beetle Venn Diagram there. Anyway, that’s not why I’m writing …
Not long after that meeting, I said goodbye to my Squire, a sacrifice made to ease my departure from a rocky relationship with a bipolar woman prone to volcanic mood swings. She always loved the wagon and as I was keen on ending our relationship and moving far away, I offered it to her for pocket change. My assumption that it would buy some goodwill was misplaced, and let’s just say I regretted letting it go.
Since then l’ve watched it languish on Google Street View, plainly visible in the carport adjacent her house, immobile and forgotten. I felt bad for the car, but I knew she’d married someone and appeared to be happy, or as happy as a bipolar depressive can be, and hoped the Squire would find new joy. What I didn’t know was that she’d married a veteran who was also bipolar and struggling with PTSD from deployments to Afghanistan. This past June I got a call from a concerned friend, stilted and emotional. He cut to the chase:
“Susan (not her name) … she’s dead …”
I sat disbelieving in stunned silence. My friend haltingly told me she’d been shot to death by her husband, who then turned the gun on himself. I was in shock: my feelings about her over the last decade have been conflicted; we shared many friends, some who understood the split, others who blamed me, some who cut ties to her and vice versa, now all rendered moot and insignificant. Despite being a happily married man with my true soulmate, I still felt significant pain over this news and a disquieting emptiness where she’d been lodged in my brain for so long.
I’ve spent the last half-year processing this tragedy and also wondering what might become of my Squire, but I still didn’t expect the call from her sister asking if I wanted it back. To my shock, the title was still in my name. She put exactly one prerequisite on me: that I donate $1000 to the battered women’s shelter of my choice. “Done,” I said.
Now I’m facing the challenge of getting it to Tampa: it hasn’t run in more than a decade and likely needs the carb rebuilt, the tank cleaned, all fluids changed, all hoses replaced, the flex brake lines renewed, new plug wires, cap, rotor, thermostat, battery, tires and may have a stuck brake for all I know. There’s nuts tucked away under the hood, and though I don’t see severed wires in the photos a friend sent, I don’t know that there aren’t any either. In short, it either needs trailering to Florida or a thorough going over prior to such a long drive.
Jerry Dixon Auto in Austin gave a very rough quote of $8k to $10k to make it road-worthy, which seems exorbitant. A company bid on transporting it on Shiply knowing it’s inoperative and where it’s located, then refused to guarantee they’d go through with picking it up. I tried to cancel my $345 reservation with them as there’s nobody there to assist in loading it, nor can it be driven to an alternate pick-up point. I don’t understand why, despite a clearly written description of its condition and locale, they’d take the bid then refuse to honor it, but here we are: Shiply hasn’t answered any of my emails. I should’ve used UShip.
I’ve got a dear friend in Austin who is handy with cars, especially the tiny British variety. He’s offered to tackle this project and I’m willing to pay him well, but I worry that he might be in over his head. Then again, maybe I’m projecting my own inadequacies as a mechanic on him. Hard to say.
Feel free to chip in with shipping suggestions or wrenching tips for long dormant 400ci land yachts or your thoughts on a nation that treats its veterans as if leaving combat military duty was the same as quitting Starbucks.
Sorry everyone, there’s no Cosby Show moral to this story. It’s tragic and I’m not sure how it’s going to play out. I do know that I want one of those Chessckers boards …
https://imgur.com/gallery/if-id-bought-this-epic-wagon-by-pound-id-be-broke-NsRfGYN
I am so sorry for what you’ve gone through with all that.
And for what happened to her.
I can’t help you with the car. It’s classy that her sister called you and that you followed through with her request.
But I feel the pain in your post and wish you the best going forward. Take care and be good to yourself.
Thx mate. For some reason I expected trolls to jump on my post which says a lot about today’s public discourse. Then again, this is The Autopian and we are a more refined rabble …
I totally get why you’d want your wagon back. Tbh (and strictly looking at the car’s financial value), I’d just fly out there with a couple of spares, such as ignition cap and rotor, brake cylinders and a few tools and carb cleaner (perhaps a gasket kit for the carb), and just wing it Vice Grip Garage style. What goes wrong can be fixed on the road. And if you don’t make it all the way home, there’s AAA.
The Vice Grip Garage suggestion does resonate with me, the difference being he’s doing that with cars that aren’t so near and dear to his heart plus I’m positive he’s approximately 247x better at wrenching than I am. The only carb I’m comfortable with disassembling and reassembling is the one on my lawn mower.
That said, I’m not ruling that idea out. At worst, I’ll join my more accomplished friend in Austin for the final bits of making it roadworthy and then make the 1200-mile trek with him, a more refined version of the 1971 movie Two-Lane Blacktop.
Thank you for sharing your story. It says something about the human condition, the choices people make and the pain some of us suffer. I think that $345 you’ve recently sacrificed is just the powers of the Universe trolling you. Just as you had to walk away from a difficult relationship for your own well being, the greater powers took the cash just to mess with you again. But you’ve got it under control. I hope that doesn’t sound trite. Truth is stranger than fiction and your post reads like an O. Henry short story. (I’m not that well read. I only recall The Gift of the Magi.)…There is a Ford Country Squire in your story, but it seems like a minor character.
Anyway, I have no expertise in shipping cars, though I do recall that a friend who worked for a reputable moving company once told me they often move cars. So you might give a moving company a call. Or just take your chances with another car shipper. People ship cars all the time…Someone must do it reliably.
We had a ‘75 Country Squire in green with wood sides just like the ad but with hide-a-way headlights. Don’t ask me how I know but there was a perfect bottle opener under the steering column. My cousin puked all over the parking garage at the Boston science center after riding in those rear facing seats. Sadly the wagon was totaled when I was T-boned by a ‘70 Camaro that ran a red light.
We had a ’73 LTD Wagon in dark metallic blue, which faded to somewhere between royal blue and sky blue by the time I inherited it as my first car in 1979.
That thing was actually a great first car for a teenager. It was a tank and could carry tons of people.
‘shallow round depression’
about the right size for Mickey-D stamped ash tray
Fun fact on the country squire:
When your spare tire well rusted out you could drop stuff onto the road like your Michigan 10 cent can returns. Or so I’m told.
We couldn’t afford nor need a wagon that big, my mom had a ’78 Pinto wagon in doo doo brown. I remember it didn’t work too often but when it did I sat in the front passenger side on my knees so I could see out of the windshield, my only lap belt being my mom throwing her arm across my chest in an emergency braking situation. Eventually, my mom started using my grandfather’s Delta 88 which was way too big for my 4’11” mom, until she could afford to buy the basest of base model ’85 Cavaliers. That also was in a terrible cream/pale white skin tone color which eventually mixed with tons of rust.
My first car was a ’73 Ford Galaxie 500 two-door, or the very basest model of your LTD. Crank windows, manual door locks, no AC, and not even a radio. I wound up getting an AM radio from my uncle’s salvage yard and adding an aftermarket FM tuner. It had the mighty and powerful 351W, good for 0-60 in 12-13 seconds (I timed it) while delivering a princely 10-12 miles per gallon. Four years of teenage driving and Pennsylvania road salt wore it out but it did get me through college.
I should probably Google/DuckDuckGo why Ford named that model a Galaxie, instead of a Galaxy. Perhaps a trademark issue. I don’t know. It seemed weird to me as a kid, even back then.
When I got my driver’s license, in 1973, my parents had a ’65 Olds 88, probably with the Rocket 350 engine. I don’t know for sure, but I do know it had a 2-barrel carb.
On the way to Sunday School or Youth Group as my church called it when we got to that age, I took it to the local 1/4 mile and did some 0-60 tests and my best result was 10 seconds. I had a stopwatch. That became my benchmark of a fast car. It took some finesse as just flooring it would result in ferocious wheelspin on the right rear tire. And a slower time.
It also got 12 or 13 MPG on a conservatively driven tank of $0.29/gallon gas back then. And its understeer, riding in the back with my dad at the helm while negotiating decreasing radius turns through the Santa Cruz mountains could be a bit alarming.
I was quite amused when my ’86 Honda Accord could also go 0-60 in 10 seconds without drama and having to finesse the gas pedal and also got low to mid 30s MPG under optimal conditions. And went around corners orders of magnitude better.
The Shitbox Showdowns make me wish I could find an Accord of that era for a reasonable price, in a reasonable condition. I loved it. There was a newer generation Accord wagon with a 5M transmission profiled in SS last week, or maybe it was this week, 40 miles from me that I lusted after, but my condo only has a one car garage. And I would hate to leave that one or my current 2017 Accord out on the street.
I’ve been trying to source one of these tables for absolute ages. I think the later model year wagons on the panther platform have a similar enough pan to fit the table in regardless I’m gonna make it work with my ’89!
If you want another great Ford invention that survived all the way to the late 80s despite being way outdated, look up the Ford TOT-GUARD. It is in my 89 brochure.
The recreation table is cool and all, but what about the 3-way tailgate! That is by far the most interesting feature to me. Was this common on the big wagons of the 70’s, or was it only Ford?
We got them in Australia on our Falcon wagons – still have mine today! They even bothered to swap the side the hinge was on, because you guys drive on the wrong side of the road and all…
After that the XD/XE/XF Falcon/Fairmont shared the rear liftgate with the US market Fairmont. Probably the only body panel they share.
Ford first offered the “Magic Doorgate” that could open sideways or down in 1966 and it was copied by the other automakers pretty quickly. GM, Chrysler and AMC all offered their own versions. Ford would offer wagons with dual-function tailgates up until 1991. GM would keep them going even longer with the Caprice/Cutlass/Roadmaster wagons offering them up until their discontinuation in 1996.
I also spend a good period of my youth in a Ford wagon, but a slightly newer ’74 Country Squire. And ours wasn’t saddled with the “small” 400 V8, but with the big boy 460 churning out 220 raging horses. We also had a partner tiny car to go along with the wagon: a ’75 Civic CVCC and later a ’81 Starlet.
One Country Squire option I was always curious about was the rear window washer. Ours didn’t have it, but apparently it worked by spraying washer fluid on the rear window glass when it was rolled down inside the door, then when you rolled the window up little squeegee-type blades would clean the glass. I had so many questions about this: would excess water just leak out of the door into the rear cargo area and all over the bumper? Would the washer fluid eventually corrode the power window mechanism? Knowing Dearborn’s rather lax opinion of engineering and build quality at the time, my assumed answer to both was “yes, absolutely.”
My mother had the same engine, though my parents were too austere for a Country Squire..
No clue why they got the top engine.. They replaced in in ’83 with the Country Squire with the 5.0, that my mother chose to park through the garage wall into the den, I shudder to think what would have happened if she still had the torque of the 460, she might have made it to the patio.
A Country Sedan then? You missed out on luxuriating in a vehicle festooned with wood vinyl applique (that peeled off) and a padded vinyl roof (that shredded into strips that would flap against the roof).
My mom also drove our wagon into the house, but not nearly as severely as yours. Our first house had a carport (too small for the wagon of course), and she hit the concrete support poles a number of times. Once with an open rear door that destroyed the power window mechanism in that door, requiring my dad to make a few “repairs” using door hinge plates.
But you had air conditioning though right? Maybe not all that much value in New England but there was that summer my parents loaded the car on an Amtrak and we took a summer vacation to the south.
The “parking” incident was funny because as I drove towards the house that day I noticed the garage door was up, but didn’t see any cars.. Odd.. Then as I got closer I said “huh, how did she get the car that far into the garage?”. The Audi “unintended acceleration” nonsense was still thing, so she was sure that was it. I agreed but while she meant the car did it on its own, I figured, like with Audi owners she was probably hitting the gas not the brake.
We had 5-60 air conditioning, which in dry Colorado wasn’t too bad. It was a lightly-optioned Country Squire: no Brougham Group or Squire Luxury Group, and no game table, but the big engine. It had the optional carpet in the cargo area, which came in handy smothering an engine fire.
I remember the brake pedal – with big text proclaiming “POWER BRAKES” – being really wide, so I don’t know how people managed to hit that thin accelerator when they meant to hit the brakes. But being in a panic results in crazy things.
I have actually spent quite a bit of time in Ford Country Squire way back seats, although we defied Ford,and crammed 4 kids back there since we were carrying two complete families. I remember seeing pictures of that game table and may have even saw a real one but don’t recall exactly.
For the record, friends owned the Country Squire and a Fiat 128, my parents were rocking a BMW 2000 and either a Mercedes 250S or Volvo 164E.
As far as my family was concerned, the Country Squire had the passenger capacity of a full size van. Three up front, four across the back row, four in the way back.
That topped us, we only had 2 in front and 3 in the second row, although we once got 4 kids in the back seat of a Camaro
Interesting, all the wagons I had to ride in the back of in the 70s and early 80s had rear facing seats, not side facing seats.
Our family of five was quite happy with our bug and travelled many miles without issue. One time we had relatives visiting from overseas and the plan was to road trip up to someone’s cabin. My parents decided to rent a “County Square” for the weekend excursion to fit everyone. My parents were both good competent drivers with no at fault incidents. That wagon was returned on Monday with both sides scraped and gouged. Not one incident, but a cascading series of “why is this thing wider than the lanes on the road? WTF?”
OK, you want to go walking through the park and reminiscing?
We had a ’72 LTD wagon. Family is driving home from dinner or somewhere, and my sister is acting up in the backseat.
So much so that my Mom pulls over, tells my sister to get up front where I am (in the middle between my mom and her twin sister/my aunt).
So I get out, sister gets out, and I am about to get into the backseat when I decided instead to get into the far back area.
So I shut the rear passenger door, run to the back and open it up.
My mom, hearing the passenger door shut, thinks I’m in the car.
I am barely hopping in, when she starts ahead.
The acceleration drops me out of the car, and I’m sitting on the ground.
Ha-ha, that’s funny.
You see that swing door in the picture above?
They do not swing a full 90 degrees.
It catches its limit and rebounds back, smacking me on the top of my head.
Not so funny.
14 stitches later, oh, and school pictures that week, I’m nearly whole again.
.
.
.
.
Nearly.
Ahh, when 2nd breakfast includes kreplach and matzah brei. Yum. That explains my hairy feet…
Dude needs to look into having the seats dyed instead of recovering. But my family had the Buick version with those same seats. I am older than Jason so I remember a feature too. Look at those rear seats, see how one side of each buts out and the other is recessed? You could only put 1 person in each of those seats if everyone had legs. The full width rear facing seats were a better design.
Signed shortest guy in the family. I still would not have fit in the rear of the VW with two grandparents.
I think graphics guy is slacking. We need Jason in the back of the VW with two of the grandparents from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I pick Jack Albertson for Grandpa
My Boy Scout troop had a horrible time finding dads to supply transportation and accompany us on outdoor activities. One time there was only the scoutmaster. And 12 boys. So he did what people could get away with doing back in the mid-60s. He squeezed all of us—and our camping gear—into his Ford Country Squire. We couldn’t breathe but we did not die.
That should have fit fine. Cub, Weblos, or boy scouts
As an ex Scouting professional, one of the things we’d run into were so-called “station wagon troops”, which were units run with the absolute minimum number of adult volunteers required, usually no parental involvement, and which always seemed to maintain their youth membership at exactly the number of seats in a station wagon (or minivan or 3 row SUV), the number of new kids recruited would always exactly match the number who quit. Supposedly very common in the 1960s and 70s, and there was still some of it going on into the 2010s
They were the troops you did not give out contact details for, and which you were always looking for an excuse to shut down as soon as one came up
We had a ‘local’ camp in the trees in the back of one of our members farms (so we would camp twice a month, one out of area trip and one local camp.) My mother always got drafted to drive a few of us there in our 75 Monte Carlo, but we were a large troop, and numerous fathers had 4×4 Wagoneers and Blazers that could haul a good number of people. For school activities (not Scout related) there was always a few parents with 8-15 passenger vans that hauled us around.
We had a ’67 Bug, which became my first car, a ’74 Mustang II that was my dad’s commuter and a red ’69 Ranch Wagon. The wagon came out of park and rolled out of our garage, over an embankment and bent the frame behind the driver’s side rear wheel. It still drove straight, so we called it “The Bentley” and drove it for another 5 or 6 years.
We mighta been cousins, Torch.
Ahh, one of my best childhood memories came from riding in the back back of my mom’s 78 Caprice Classic. Two friends and I were riding in the rear facing seat heading to a little league game when two smoking hot teenage girls started following us. We started goofing off making faces at them and they joined in the fun at the red light. As the light turned green, the passenger flashed us a magnificent set of boobies just as they turned left. My 10 year old mind was blown and my life changed forever! The 70s was a great time to grow up.
Growing up in Raleigh, we had a 1973 VW 412 and a 1971 Ford Country Squire. It must have been the cargo version because it just had a trunk in the rear. No fancy seats. But you could fit EVERYTHING in the back! Four or five intact RC airplanes! A stack of 4×8 plywood or corrugated roofing! I can’t verify this but dad said it had an enormous engine. Something around 7 liters. I drove it around 1990 and it had a lot of torque but didn’t feel powerful at all. Most of our “fleet” was upgraded soon after to include the newer Crown Vic wagons and a Ford pickup.
That’s nothing our Buick fit family of 5 tent for 8, kitchen tent that could fit two picnic tables, camping gear for everyone, food, toys and fishing gear for half. And travel toys and books. They make those old Lincolns Cadillacs and Fords look tiny.