Plum crazy over a “hunk of junk”
When I was a little girl, my parents would tell me stories about the Volkswagen Beetles they owned when they were in their teens. I always knew I wanted a Beetle, too.
When I was 15 years old, in Victoria, Virginia, a friend told me he knew of a 1975 Beetle for sale. I told my mom and Pete, my stepdad, about it. Pete was a master mechanic. He was one of the best, but he wasn’t too keen on fine German engineering.
When we got to the seller’s house, there she was — a blue metallic Beetle sitting in the yard... rotting away. I’m sure my parents thought, “What a hunk of junk.” That was not what I was thinking as excitement was running through
