[August 20, 2026] Traveling in our car was an adventure for us kids. It was a rare treat, but there was a problem. My Dad was a smoker. He eventually gave up smoking after his quadruple bypass (I was in college by that time); his heart had taken a beating from that unhealthy habit. But us kids also took some of the brunt.
All the kids were in the backseat. My sister was relegated to the center, an uncomfortable position because it was hard. Cars in those days had a crank shaft running down the center and the back seat had less padding at that point. For my brother and I, we fought over which side to sit on. I chose the back right, behind my Mom in the front passenger seat, and for good reason.
It happened more often than it should have, but when my Dad finished a cigarette, he would toss it out the driver’s window. Sometimes the still-smoldering cigarette butt would fly back into the back seat. If you were behind him, your speed dodging the sparks and ash, and keeping your mouth shut, determined your status as a good kid.
There was a problem with the rear right position for me. If Dad got mad at my whining or acting up, it was easy to reach back to give me a swat upside the head. He couldn’t reach directly behind him; so my brother was safe (at least until we arrived at our destination). If we were really bad, you knew it. The car slowed down fast and Dad got out of the car. You knew what was next.
I find it odd that such memories have come back to me. Yesterday, I spent an hour with a half dozen older military Veterans. They grew up in the 1930s and 40s, and wow, did they have some stories to tell. If you ever want to get a new perspective on life, then talk with an older Vet and listen closely; for that is how you will get a chance to “feel” what they saw and did.
I’ve written a series on growing up in the 1950s and 60s in the South which can be found here (see link, Letters to My Granddaughter) that lays out my memories of those wonderful days. Life then was great to me, and those of my age, because there was always an adventure waiting. And, going somewhere in a car was something rare and wonderful (despite the smoke).
Mom was always trying to talk Dad into giving up smoking, but without success. At home, I was the one that would hide his packs of cigarettes or put a novelty cigarette load (or “bang load”) causing him distress. My efforts failed. Dad knew it was me. I have no idea where I got those prank devices but it was another adventure when Dad got mad.
My grandpaw Satterfield was a big smoker too. He smoked unfiltered Camels (R.J. Reynolds Tobacco). Miraculously, these can still be purchased in the U.S.; I don’t know about elsewhere in the world. He lived to be 93, his wife lived to 99. The smoke from grandpaw’s Camels was strong, but he was relaxed while he smoked in his old comfortable, cloth-covered chair.
Interestingly, as the oldest kid in my family, I never smoked but both my brother and older sister smoke to this day.
CREDIT: Thumbnail by GettyImages, George Marks
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Yeah, I get it, as plenty of us Baby Boomers had parents that smoked. It was the “cool” thing to do. All the tv and movie actors smoked cigarettes. They were what people thought was the pinnacle of life. But that turned out false. We know better today, smoking is not good for us.