When I was growing up my parents owned many vehicles: three Audi 5000s, a Nissan Maxima, a Jeep Wagoneer, a Datsun 210, a Ford Ranger, a Honda Prelude, and so on. Of all those vehicles, there is one I dearly wish I still had in my own driveway: my dad’s 1969 GMC truck with a roaring 327.
Sadly, I don’t have any pictures of that beloved pickup, but it looks very similar to the truck pictured here (except that my dad’s had a black roof and a more visible side exhaust that rattled windows for three blocks).
This brings me to my favorite Halloween memory. I grew up in a hilly neighborhood overlooking Okanagan Lake in Kelowna, BC. Our house had a view similar to this picture.
Most of the time, I enjoyed our neighborhood: vineyards, ponderosa pines, and a view of the lake and mountains. But there was a definite downside when it came to Halloween. In our neighborhood we really had to work for our candy: walking up steep hills and negotiating long driveways, all for a couple miniature Snickers or a homemade popcorn ball.
Enter my dad and the 1969 GMC truck. One Halloween my dad chauffeured me and three friends sitting on the open tailgate as we slowly cruised around our neighborhood. As other kids labored to climb steep hills, we slowly rolled up the road like a seasonal parade float, laughing, joking, and swapping candy to the melodic low burble of an American V8.
So yeah, that’s my best Halloween memory ever.