Lee Iacocca may have been credited with pioneering the minivan but he was actually the second--the first creator was my eccentric yet frugal father.
I will never forget the day that the 1966 Dodge Polara was traded-in for a brand new turquoise-coloured 1968 Fargo van powered by a 210 horsepower 318 cubic inch V8. Delivery of the van, which was nothing more than a metal shell, had been delayed while the vehicle was sent for 360-degree window installation.
About the only options accompanying the van upon its arrival were a passenger seat (yes, that was optional) and a padded bar along the dash that served as a crude form of occupant protection and a grab-handle to assist with entry to the front passenger seat.
With five kids to haul around, the van was a great choice but not until dad installed three bench seats he had acquired from a city bus at a surplus sale. The hard, green plastic upholstered seats emerged from an old Brill trolley bus that had been decommissioned by BC Hydro, the transit company serving Vancouver in the 60s and beyond.
To mount the seats, dad used his homemade arc welder in the basement of our house to fabricate a set of legs for each seat. They were then bolted into place through the Fargo's steel floor. Seatbelts? “We don't need no stinkin seatbelts!” Apparently the police thought different. Lap belts were later installed--anatomically correct I'm sure.
Neighbours came from all around to view our family's innovative form of transport, which was becoming the talk of the hood. In contrast to the sedans and wagons typically found in nearby driveways, the Fargo offered unheard of room for everyone and more windows than faces.
It also supplied plenty of storage space for camping gear and the many other cargo-related chores one would need a van for. And with the removal of a few bolts, the seats could be lifted out to maximize capacity.
So there Lee Iacocca--take that. You were second!
I will never forget the day that the 1966 Dodge Polara was traded-in for a brand new turquoise-coloured 1968 Fargo van powered by a 210 horsepower 318 cubic inch V8. Delivery of the van, which was nothing more than a metal shell, had been delayed while the vehicle was sent for 360-degree window installation.
About the only options accompanying the van upon its arrival were a passenger seat (yes, that was optional) and a padded bar along the dash that served as a crude form of occupant protection and a grab-handle to assist with entry to the front passenger seat.
 |
| Photo: Rob Rothwell/Auto123.com |
With five kids to haul around, the van was a great choice but not until dad installed three bench seats he had acquired from a city bus at a surplus sale. The hard, green plastic upholstered seats emerged from an old Brill trolley bus that had been decommissioned by BC Hydro, the transit company serving Vancouver in the 60s and beyond.
To mount the seats, dad used his homemade arc welder in the basement of our house to fabricate a set of legs for each seat. They were then bolted into place through the Fargo's steel floor. Seatbelts? “We don't need no stinkin seatbelts!” Apparently the police thought different. Lap belts were later installed--anatomically correct I'm sure.
Neighbours came from all around to view our family's innovative form of transport, which was becoming the talk of the hood. In contrast to the sedans and wagons typically found in nearby driveways, the Fargo offered unheard of room for everyone and more windows than faces.
It also supplied plenty of storage space for camping gear and the many other cargo-related chores one would need a van for. And with the removal of a few bolts, the seats could be lifted out to maximize capacity.
So there Lee Iacocca--take that. You were second!