Forty two years next month. December, 1967. My dad had been transferred from his job as a chemist at the Richfield oil refinery in Carson, CA to become the head quality control chemist at the ARCO distribution terminal in Portland Oregon. He had given away his 1952 Lincoln Capri to a family friend - he was halfway through the rebuild when we got the transfer - so he needed a car for his morning commute. The choice? A white '67 Mustang hardtop.
The whole family went to Harlan Griffith Ford in Portland to pick the car up. I always thought that this indicated how big a deal it was to be getting a new car, and it was a big deal. I'd only known the '52 Lincoln and the station wagon we got when my younger brothers were born, a '63 Buick Invicta. A new car was indeed a big deal, and a Mustang made it even better. Looking back on it, there was a more practical reason for us all to go - Dad needed another driver to drop him off at Harlan Griffith, and where mom and dad went, so went the kids.
He bought the Mustang off the lot. Oddly optioned car, but it was a white hardtop with an automatic. 289 4V, heavy duty suspension, wire wheel covers. That's a complete option list, except for one thing I almost never see on a base Mustang - a factory in-dash tach. No power options. No power brakes, or steering, no air conditioning (it was Portland after all).
But here's the coolest part of that day: I still remember riding home in the back seat of that Mustang, and waving to my brother in the Buick as dad took the wrong exit off Highway 26. Ten years later, I bought the Mustang for $1000 - about what it was worth then - and twenty five years after that, I started to rebuild it.