Wanderlust/Sleeping in Your Car Part 2: A Narrative

As a kid, my family of five would pack into our Aerostar Van like sardines. Myself usually caged in the way back, a seat in between the dog and I so we would both sit calmly, though still sticky in the summer humidity on our way to the Outer Banks.

Once we arrived we would cram ourselves into my Granny’s  summer home on wheels. A little one bedroom trailer, in a time before she upgraded to a doublewide with custom pop-outs, which comfortably slept all six of us well spread out in our own areas and beds. But that was a different time. During the Aerostar era, Mom and I often found ourselves putting the seats down in the van, sliding the back windows open for air and hoping for a cool night. This was way before global warming and the mosquito epidemic. Way before my mother’s little snores at night kept me awake. Way before I grew so tall that my feet hung off the seat. Way before we sold it to a construction crew in Raleigh. Way before any of that.

I would fall asleep to the sound of people on vacation, my grandma’s retiree neighbors in the trailer next door one drink too many, the ocean far off in the distance, an occasional dog bark. And late in the night after I’d fallen asleep I’d wake to a firecracker popping somewhere in the distance. It didn’t matter if It was 4^th of July, or  even July at all, but only that it was summer and that I was young and that I was going to wake up the next day, lather myself in sunscreen and take to the beach. 

Enjoy these relics from my childhood (and please excuse the quality, photos from another time)

Granny's Trailer