Our Family car: Chevrolet “Merry Miler” conversion van
In the 1970’s, the standard family car was a station wagon. Minivans hadn’t really been invented and were a far off dream. But, my family was on the cutting edge of the minivan movement. At a time when other families were still driving around in their station wagons, we had just traded in our faux wood-side wagon for this brand new, big blue Chevrolet Merry Miler.
It wasn’t exactly a “mini” van. It was a regular full sized van with a raised bubble top, a cooking stove, seats that folded down into sleeping areas, curtains for privacy, and a sink — kind of like a mini-RV, but without a bathroom. It was bright blue with a big white stripe down the side to match the huge bubble top, and a ladder on the back so you could reach the luggage rack. Kids were not allowed to climb on the ladder — ever. We had a porta-potty that we’d bring along for big trips, but used it only in emergencies!
In the beginning, our Merry Miler saw more than it’s share of Girl Scout camp outs, Indian Guides pow wows, and school field trips. Then we began our many family road trips. In those days we didn’t wear seat belts, and we were free to move about the cabin.
On those long road trips, we would set up the Formica table in the back where my brother and my two sisters and I played endless hours of Monopoly, Crazy 8’s, and drew in our trip journals.
The very first entry in my journal included a drawing of our van. (May 26, 1976.)
I mentioned the Merry Miler in my journal several times. I can remember riding in it through hot deserts in Arizona, along the cliffs in California, through hills of Tennessee, mountains of Colorado, and along beaches in Florida and Texas …from Disneyland to Disney World and beyond.
We listened to Mom and Dad talk to passing truckers on our CB radio. We laughed at our parents’ CB handles that were today’s equivalent of a chat room screen name. Dad was “The Ancient Mariner” (being a former seaman). Mom was “The Blue Goose” (also the name we gave to our Merry Miler). Once we took Grandma with us on a long road trip from Memphis to New Orleans to Orlando and back. Her CB radio handle was “Wild Turkey”.
Grandma was cool.
Sometimes we all slept in the van using the bunk bed up top and the larger bed made from folding down the table, and other times we brought along some tents which were much roomier for our family of six. Rarely did we ever see another Merry Miler, and never did we see one the same color as ours. I don’t know if she was a one-of-a-kind, but she felt like it to us.
There was no anonymity in that big powder blue vehicle. Those black “Merry Miler” decals were unmistakable, and high top roof did not fit into the garage, so it was always parked in the driveway on display. Of course it’s recognizable attributes had good points as well — we never had a problem finding it in even the busiest parking lot. And on the days when Mom picked us up from school, everyone knew which car was ours.
It didn’t even become embarrassing until we were teens and had to be seen driving around in it. You see, we all learned how to drive on the Merry Miler, and even drove it during the road test for our driver’s licenses. Several years with four teen-age drivers were hard on the old gal, and she suffered quite a few dents as a result. She was always there for us though.
Then there were the farm days in the later years when we used the old Merry Miler like a truck. We loaded her full of lumber, or bags of grain. She pulled our horse trailer full of horses, and dragged a sled full of hay bales from the pasture.
Once we drove home from a cattle auction with a few young calves in the back seat area. Before our water well was working, we used to have to haul water out to the barn in big 50 gallon drums for the horses every day. I guess we hit the brakes too hard one time, and one of those drums spilled over inside the van which made quite an interesting event as water spilled out like a tidal wave when the sliding door was opened.
I’ll never forget the night Mom and I parked the Merry Miler next to the barn and camped in it when my pony was expecting a foal, so that we wouldn’t miss the birth. The baby was born that night!
The Merry Miler took us across the country and back more than once. She taught us a few lessons and is a mainstay in my collection of childhood memories.
Finally, after many years and thousands of miles, my siblings and I were told to give her a detailed cleaning in order to put it up for sale. Way back under those seat cushions we found a couple of tiny plastic Monopoly hotels that had been traveling around with us from the very beginning. Eventually we sold our van to another family that we hoped would love her as much as we had.
It was like saying goodbye to a very old friend.
