Her name was Elizabeth, a 1963 Oldsmobile 98 4-door Holiday sedan that my parents bought the day before they were married in July 1964. I named her at some point growing up though I'm not sure exactly when or why I picked that name. I guess she just looked like an Elizabeth. Elizabeth took Mom and Dad on their honeymoon, took Mom to the hospital with Dad under the wheel flying through stop signs and red lights to give birth to me and my brother in 1967 and 1970, respectively, and took us on numerous family trips growing up through the 1970s and 1980s. She was quite content sitting in the same carport from 1964 through the early 1990s in Largo, FL. We talked dad into fixing her up when we became of driving age, including fixing the factory radio and getting her painted in the original baby blue. My brother and I both learned to drive behind the wheel of Elizabeth, and she safely transported us through our high school and the early part of my college years. My brother and I were both proud to drive a car so unique. I will always remember the distinctive smell of the interior. Unfortunately, I wrecked the car in the 1980s, and because she had so much sentimental value, I scraped up enough lawn cutting money with Mom's contribution to fix her against Dad's wishes. After Dad passed away in 1988, we decided to sell her to two gentlemen in the early 1990s as she was just sitting in the carport getting little attention. At that time, she had about 130,000 miles. Funny that I saw her at a auto auction in Zephyrhills, Florida several months later, and because she was a hardtop and had been wrecked, she did not find a new owner. I will admit that a tear came to my eye. Unfortunately, we never never found out what ultimately happened to her, though my Mom swears that she ended up in New York state somewhere. Hopefully, she found a new home and is continuing to make memories. Elizabeth fostered and nurtured my love for old cars that began as a child and continues to this day.