Detroit has brought back the Dodge Dart. I had one of those, a long, long time ago–in fact, it was a 1966 model, which I shared with my year-older sister It was purchased for $600 of a summer’s worth of babysitting earnings.
When I was growing up in Georgia, you could get your driving learner’s permit at fifteen, and your driver’s license at sixteen. For teenagers growing up in a split level suburbia that only a few years before had been cow pastures , this rite of passage was a necessary evil for taking in the bright lights of the big city some thirty miles away: Atlanta.
A Dodge Dart was my second car, too. When my sister totaled the first one, I got a shot at crashing the second one.