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John S. Rehberg, 8/31/1956 to 9/14/2022, Dad you may be gone but you're always with me...

They held the title jointly. Dad said it was a measure of how the immigrant families in the ethnic neighborhoods in Depression era NYC stuck together. The other boys all became wealthy business owners. I met them at a wedding in 1967, and they were all driving new Lincolns.
Pretty common in some of the more rural, poorer parts of the country also.
I've certainly heard of it from relatives in the past before.
 
I had to take a break before launching car #9. To me, this one is the most significant of the group. It stayed in the family for 13 years, longer than any of the others. It chronicled years of turmoil in our culture as whole, my teenage years and early 20s, and dad's life during that era.

In 1962, dad had nearly departed from Penn State after interviewing for a job with the University of Illinois. The upshot was he stayed, and got promoted. In the process he cut a deal with devil (PSU) that I didn't fully comprehend until decades later, when I sorted through his files after he passed. Dad was given the opportunity to move out of management into the academic arena. Three different departments pooled their budgets to provide funding for the first class he taught in photojournalism. The plan was to move him into full time teaching in the Journalism department if he completed a masters degree, and if his initial course attracted students.

He completed the degree attending night school while he worked full time, easily putting in 100 hours a week to make it all happen. It paid off - he graduated number one in the graduate school class of '65 with a perfect 4.0 average. In 1967 he became a full time assistant professor, and took a pay cut in the process.

I acquired dad's work ethic, but never his affinity for school, slogging through it, but never connecting with the process the way he had. I always harbored a bad taste for Penn State, watching how hard dad had worked for what I considered meager financial rewards. One of life's ironies, was that dad was a business major who ended up with a career in academia, and I was an English major, who ended up working in business.

So in June of 1967, with his newly reduced paycheck, dad threw in the towel with the Wagoneer, and asked Bill Clark to provide him with a cheap new car.
 
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Car #9 Dad traded the luxurious Wagoneer on a stripped down 1967 Valiant 100. Options were the 200 decor package, which consisted of deluxe wheel covers, aluminum side molding, and an automatic transmission. Dad sprung for a dealer installed am-fm radio. The car had rubber floor mats and the taxi cab interior that were standard on the basic Valiant 100. Like the 1960 model that preceded it, the car served us well. Dad signed the title over to me when I graduated from Penn State in 1975. I drove the car until I got married in 1977. My wife took it over when I bought the first GTX. The picture was taken at our first apartment, in 1980.
67 Valiant.jpg
 
Car #10 By 1970, dad was totally sold on Valiants. The career change had gone well for him, and mom had started a full time teaching job as my sister and I became self sufficient. Dad sat down with Bill Clark and filled an order form out for a '70, probably the easiest sale Bill ever made. I was drooling over Bill's '69 GTX while dad did the paperwork. A few months later Julie Clark set me up with the test drive in that car that would change my life.
1970 valiant.png
 
Car #11 When 1973 arrived, dad was feeling flush again. He had been promoted to associate professor, and been awarded tenure. After 25 years at Penn State, his future was totally set. This was the first year of the federally mandated ugly bumpers, and dad couldn't stand how they messed up the Valiant styling. He was okay with them on the Dodge Dart, with the different front end treatment, and discussed his dilemma with Bill Clark. Bill told him he could work a deal to get a Dodge through the Plymouth dealership, but it would be simpler if dad would just buy a Dart at the Dodge dealer across town, no hard feelings. Bill assured him he would not lose any status for warranty work. Dad went to the Dodge dealer, and went nuts with the order sheet. He ordered a free automatic transmission package that included a vinyl top and the light package. He also added air conditioning, power steering, power disc brakes, the top line interior, and a 318 V8, rather than the usual slant six. The 1973 oil embargo hit about the time dad took delivery, but he suffered through it and kept the Dart for five years.
73 Dart.png
 
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Car #12 When dad signed the '67 Valiant over to me in 1975, he needed a replacement. After a decade without a station wagon, he was ready for another. Our relatives in New York, had been Oldsmobile owners forever. When dad found the one owner '67 Cutlass wagon for $650, he couldn't pass it up.
67 Cutless.png
 
Car #13 Dad's hard work paid off when he made full professor in 1976. He was eligible for a state pension at 80% of his final salary plus social security. Finally, he was sitting pretty. He celebrated by trading the Cutlass in on a one owner '74 Ford wagon, which Julie Clark sold him.
74 Ford.png
 
Car #14 Dad retired in 1978, when my sister graduated and moved out of the house. He gave her the '73 Dart, and replaced it the a 1978 Plymouth Sapporo. The car shown is not dad's, but it's identical.
78 Sapporo.png
 
Car #15 Dad traded the '78 Sapporo on a new one in 1983. Inflation in the late 70s had been brutal, and I remember dad telling me that he was amazed when Bill Clark gave him a trade in value that was equal to what he had paid for the car new.

83 Sapporo.png
 
…One of life's ironies, was that dad was a business major who ended up with a career in academia, and I was an English major, who ended up working in business.
Irony I will say indeed Adam.
 
As I've said earlier, dad, like many of his generation, never completely left the trauma of the Depression behind him. He watched his own father lose everything during the 1929 stock market crash. Dad was 13 at the time. He grabbed the security of Penn State employment like a life raft. Unlike dad, I came of age in the economic boom of the 50s and 60s, and grew up with different expectations. Dad grew up in impoverished neighborhoods, and clawed his way out. He didn't trust capitalism to take care of him, and as an adult I came to understand why.

So dad and I had our differences when I started my career, and I took risks with both job moves and financial decisions that scared him. We eventually sorted it out, and I'll address that when I finish the car list.
 
Car #16 In 1985, dad was making a turn into Clark Motor Company on his way to getting the Ford wagon serviced. He was hit from behind, got a fairly serious whiplash injury, and the Ford was totaled. I had recently graduated from law school, and begged him to file suit. He wouldn't consider it after his neck healed a few weeks later. Julie Clark gave him a call when another customer traded a 1984 Dodge Caravan, which soon replaced the Ford.
84 Dodge Caravab.jpeg
 
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Car #16 In 1985, dad was making a turn into Clark Motor Company on his way to getting the Ford wagon serviced. He was hit from behind, got a fairly serious whiplash injury, and the Ford was totaled. I had recently graduated from law school, and begged him to file suit. He wouldn't consider it after his neck healed a few weeks later. Julie Clark gave him a call when another customer traded a 1984 Dodge Caravan, which soon replaced the Ford.View attachment 1389364
What are the odds that the accident happened pulling into Clark Motor Company and it leading to replacing the Ford with a Plymouth? Sounds like it broke his 2-car streak of non-Chrysler products I'd say(sort of lol).
 
I remember thinking the same thing when it happened, also interesting that Julie, rather than Bill, had sold dad the Ford, then set him up with the Caravan. This sequence turned out to be a precursor of dad's final purchase at Clark Motor Company. Bill was killed in 1988, when he crashed his vintage P51 Mustang into a mountain. Julie Clark would officially take over the dealership (she had always run it from behind the scenes prior), and sell dad his last car, in 1993.
 
This is a bit off topic, but it ties into Julie Clark's expertise in keeping my family driving Chrysler products. In 1989, I was promoted into a middle management job with my corporate employer, and told to buy a new car with my vehicle reimbursement stipend. Playing the corporate game, I took note that all the other guys at that level were driving mid-priced, full size GM products. I followed suit, and bought a 1989 Pontiac Bonneville.

Two years later, I was loading groceries into the trunk of the Pontiac, when a Chrysler New Yorker limousine pulled in beside me. I thought to myself, "crap..." I knew who it belonged to. Julie Clark stepped out, and smiled at me.
I was mortified at being seen in the Pontiac, and told her so. Julie told me not to sweat it, she would get me back when the time was right. A few months later I bought a 1962 Imperial Crown, and spent more money in the Clark Motor Company shop getting it road worthy than Julie would have ever made selling me new cars. I now stood out like a sore thumb from my corporate colleagues. It proved to not be a liability. I was soon promoted to senior management.
 
...I thought to myself, "crap..." I knew who it belonged to. Julie Clark stepped out, and smiled at me.
I was mortified at being seen in the Pontiac, and told her so...
:rofl:


...Julie told me not to sweat it, she would get me back when the time was right. A few months later I bought a 1962 Imperial Crown, and spent more money in the Clark Motor Company shop getting it road worthy than Julie would have ever made selling me new cars. I now stood out like a sore thumb from my corporate colleagues....
That's classic right there, literally...
 
Car #17 In 1993, dad bought his last car from Julie Clark. That year marked the end of the Plymouth brand. He was 77 years old at the time, and drove the Voyager until he went into assisted living, at the age of 89.
93 Plymouth Voyager.png
 
Epilogue:

Thank you again Nick, for providing this venue to look back over my dad's life. He has been gone for 14 years now, and this is the first real chance since I administered his estate to sort through the old photos and reflect on who he was, and what he accomplished. To me, going back through what he drove during his journey tells much about who he was. The cars were all utilitarian, mostly economical, never glamorous, and certainly unpretentious.

Dad's relationship with Clark Motor Company exposed me to that other world of Mopars. It started a passion with me that has lasted through five decades.

At the age of 90, dad confided to me that he had two regrets when he looked back on his life. First, he felt that he had made the family suffer economically because of his career choices. Second was that he had sold me short while watching me make my own, by not supporting me. Regarding the latter, he explained that he did it out of parental concern, not wanting to see me hurt by failure. He was thrilled to have lived to see me prove him wrong with the level of success I achieved. Regarding the family finances, I assured him that a college degree without debt, and a parent who lived 30 years in retirement with no need for financial help, was more than any fortunate son could ask for.

In late 2019, my daughter was contacted by woman who had learned of their shared family tree through the Ancestry.com platform. The information that flowed out of that contact filled in my biological family tree for five generations on both sides. Dad and I were incredibly different creatures in terms of the wiring we had been given by nature. Things that came naturally to me were a struggle for him, and vice versa. He played his hand well, raising me to adulthood. He had trouble understanding the nature that was me, but he provided the nurture that made it succeed.
 
Adam,
Sounds like your dad laid one heck of a foundation for you to grow to your potential. Although your dad is no longer physically with us, his presence is clearly evident in the person you are. And one day shaking your hand I feel I'd be shaking his as well. Looking forward to it sir.

- Nick
 
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