It all started on my way home from the hospital, a week after I was born. The friends who picked my mother and I up were driving a dark blue 1968 Volvo 142... and I've been hooked on Volvos ever since!

My first family Volvo was a white 1968 145, which belonged to my grandparents. When I was about 4, it got sold to a family friend, who is apparently still driving it. Later my mother married a '73 145 (along with my step-father), and they bought a '74 245 to keep it company. Both of these were sold to make way for a mini-van, but that '73 is also periodically spotted around town.

Finally the time came when allowing me to get a driver's license could be put off no longer. My parents purchased a 1973 144 for me, which I hated. It was a Volvo, which at the time still meant "slow, boxy, and ugly" to me. t was, however, a good, safe car, and the price was right. The very first week I did any real driving I learned to appreciate my mom's safety concerns — I had an accident. I stopped at an intersection and the car behind me chose not to. A brand new Honda, the car-at-fault suffered a crumpled front end, a busted radiator, and was basically totalled. I hadto wipe some glass (not mine) off the back bumper.