Unfortunately, driving that car from New York to Dallas and back again a couple of times, wore out the transmission and my father wanted to replace it. Knowing how much I hated to give it up, he told me that I could pick out whatever I wanted. Hmmm....well, I asked for and got a royal blue GTO with a baby blue racing stripe.
My, my! That car was the envy of a lot of guys. While not a snappy convertible, that car could move but it never did replace my beloved Firebird. My dad and my brother, Steve, drove it down to Dallas for me in the summer of 1970. It took me on to Atlanta where I went to graduate school in 1971 but I don't remember it lasting too long either because I ended up with my mothers yellow Buick with the brown vinyl top which my husband Allen and I drove until we wore a hole in the floor board and could see the lines in the roads beneath us.