Lanette & Wilma
Model:
1969 Squareback
Name:
Wilma is named after my maternal grandmother.
Color:
Toga White
Mileage:
14,972
Motors:
My dad rebuilt it. It was originally fuel injected—it was the first year VW had done that, and it was bad. We put in dual carburetors, and that’s what she’s got now.
Owned since:
1995
Owners:
My grandfather bought it from a friend of his. I’m the third owner.
Location:
California
Favorite driving song:
For a while, when I still had the original radio, I listened to an AM station that played music from the 1920s and ’30s and ’40s, the music my grandfather loved. Sometimes I would just go out driving and I would feel like I was with him. And with her.
I got Wilma as a birthday gift from my grandmother when I was sixteen. She was reaching the age where she wasn’t going to drive anymore. I don’t know why I lucked out and got Wilma. I have four cousins, all girls. And one of my cousins was even living with my grandma at the time. But for some reason, she gave her to me. My dad attached her to the back of our van and drove her from Idaho back down to Orange County, where we were living. He did some work to get her up and running, then taught me how to drive on her.
I was struggling to learn how to drive stick, so he would take me over to the local community college that had a parking lot at a slight angle, and we would practice going around and around in Wilma. I don’t know if this is the case with all Volkswagens, but her clutch lets out right at the end, and it took a while for me to get the hang of that.
When my husband, Jason, and I first started dating, I lived in Santa Barbara and I would sometimes drive her from Santa Barbara to the Bay Area going fifty miles an hour over the passes. She just keeps on trucking. There was a while there where we couldn’t figure out how to clear the vents at the front, right below the windshield. And when it rained, water would pour in on my feet. So I would keep a pair of high-water boots in the car and put those on.
There were a couple of moments where I thought about selling her, and obviously I’ve had lots of people approach me. I have a stack of business cards with people who’ve said, “If you ever change your mind . . .” But she’s just such a part of me. And she’s a really big part of my relationship with my dad, who still pays the insurance on her. He won’t let me take it over. It’s just this thing he wants to do to keep connected. He redid the car and he’s eighty-two and it still brings him joy.
I’ve always loved driving. I grew up in a place where to get anywhere you had to drive—there was not good public transit in Southern California when I was growing up. So as soon as I was sixteen, I got my driver’s license. It was really a way to explore the areas, go to the beaches, explore Orange County.
She has gone with me all over California. I lived in San Diego for a while and drove her back and forth to Orange County, visiting family. When I went to school at Berkeley, I brought her with me. Just after I graduated from college, I was working at Chez Panisse and would drive her there. The mechanic I found in Berkeley was such a great guy. I was really sick at one point and was coughing when I took her in, and he’s listening to me cough while he’s trying to figure out what’s going on with Wilma. I’d been sick for a long time and I couldn’t figure out what it was. He goes, “Girl, you have whooping cough.” And he was right. I felt like, Wow, that’s a really good mechanic. He’s not only listening to the car, but he heard me wheezing and coughing, the way he does with cars—always diagnosing.
When I lived in Santa Barbara, there was a super quirky gentleman who knew the ins and outs of Volkswagens, and when she didn’t work and I couldn’t figure out how to fix her, he would take her apart and put her back together. I’ve met so many people because of Wilma, people who love Volkswagens.
She’s been my most treasured possession. I mean, it feels even weird to say possession, because it just feels like a relationship when you have a car like her for that long. I’ve had her for, I don’t even know, about thirty years.
It feels like she is both her own personality and an enduring spirit who just needs a little bit of care to keep on going. I think that’s probably true of every old Volkswagen. She’s just the most consistent car—I can’t believe that she’s worked for as long as she’s worked. Well, she’s not operational right now, but it wouldn’t take much to get her up and going.
I’ve done little repairs—nothing on the motor, but little things like when the window handle broke off or problems with the seat. That’s something I love about Volkswagens, how user-friendly they are. They’re built for people to be able to fix them, and I’m not mechanically minded at all. Besides the motor, which I don’t feel like I could ever quite approach, everything else feels really accessible. It’s pretty empowering being able to take the door apart and fix things and be like, Okay, I can handle this.
We lived at the top of a very steep hill, so there was lots of space to practice that tricky part of shifting gears on a hill. When I came to San Francisco, even though it was daunting, I was excited to tackle driving Wilma on those steep hills. I haven’t driven her in maybe a year now, but it’s the muscle memory of driving stick—it’s a very comfortable thing to do. I don’t really have to think about it.
I feel proud driving her because I’ve taken care of her over the years. I love being able to tell her story. Often when I stop somewhere to get gas or go into town, someone will ask, “Oh my gosh, what’s the story with this car? How long have you had this car?” And often, “Is she for sale? Could I buy her?” You do not see old Volkswagens that often around here, and you definitely don’t see Squarebacks. A lot of people have never seen one. They’ll see it and they’re like, “What is this? It’s a Volkswagen. Somebody took a Bug and stretched it out.”
Wilma always reminds me of my grandmother, who was just a hoot—she was a really smart and funny woman. She passed away not long after she gave me the car. I’m really grateful to have a piece of her with me that feels so alive.
If it’s a sunny day, I can open the little cigarette windows and let the air in and just cruise. It’s such a joyful feeling. I like the freedom of being able to drive, and there’s something really special about being able to drive her. I think it’s one of the times when I feel most comfortable in myself.
Photographer’s note: Wilma is not running right now. Luckily Lanette lives on a farm and Jason towed her out to the field. That’s why I love VW’s, there’s always a surprise, but the owners always figure something out.
