London Graveyard


She’s not convinced the day is right, it seems too much like yesterday.

The suns the same-the room’s the same-but the echo of the kids seems astray.

She tries to move slowly and truly see what is wrong.

She listens closely to every sound and waits to hear a children’s song.

But the void is real, and it seems, that the children she misses have gone away.


She wakes again-yet another day- and the voices again are not around.

The room she is in is small and grey. A tiny prison she is bound.

The memories come slowly now. A terrible thing has passed.

It’s hazy now, these memories, as if in the distant past.

But she moves throughout her day, trying to keep herself aground.


People come and people go, she barely notices them any more.

Some give her meds, and some just talk, and she finds it such a chore,

To concentrate on who is there, when her mind is somewhere else.

She can hear them now, the children come, but only to herself.

As time passes the visitors wane, she finds them easy to ignore.


Twenty years have come and twenty have gone since that horrible day.

When bad things happened to her children that took them both away.

She sits in her rocker now, and reaches out to passerby.

When old eyes meet she quietly asks the person, “Why?”

Forty years ago was when her children last left to play.


The police searched and hunted on, no suspects did appear.

No answers gleaned from years of search, motives were unclear.

The children seemed to disappear from the playground unseen.

A few leads, some questions asked, but the act it was obscene.

Two children gone from the park, never to reappear.


When by chance a clue alights and points to a person of interest.

A lady not addressed at first, talks of a man she witnessed.

He walked into the park and led the kids away hand-in-hand.

It seemed so innocent, a father taking his kids for a ride in his van.

But later she finds the story is wrong, and in the police she confides.


The man, it seems, is not the father at all, but a man from up the street.

The kids were duped, lied to, and walked away not knowing deceit.

The acts were unspeakable. The children held on as best as they could.

The man, when finished with them, buried them in the wood.

Now forty years and the man has passed, and to the women the police go to meet.


The day is new and the room is the same, the ward itself never changes.

Its comfortable for the patients you see, and helps promote exchanges.

They tried to explain, to tell her the truth. But she didn’t seem to hear.

That the puzzle was solved and the bodies were found. She didn’t shed a tear.

For it seems that in her mind the children have been with her all this time as angels.


She is gone now, laid next to them. Forever will they be together.

They play again, in the park, and all they will have is pleasure.

For all the time that passed on earth is now but a wink.

And all they time that they have before them now seems to interlink,

With eternity now stretched before them, now that they are all together.


I See Ghosts

13 Photo Front Desk
13 Photo Front Desk


The obituaries are becoming one of the first things I look for in our paper. As a man ‘of a certain age’ I look for them now to see if I knew anyone in there. And increasingly I am seeing former customers. For awhile now I have kept a list of past customers and company reps who worked with me. (I’ll post it at the end of this entry.) Most of the time I recognize the person from the obituary photo. Sometimes I recognize the name, or think I do. Sometimes I have to be reminded from another long-time friend that I may have missed someones passing. But every time I feel a twang. Sometimes it is deep remorse. Someone passed who I will miss. Sometimes its just a small sad remembrance. But each one pulls a small thread. The small thread that connects all of us. Threads that go back through time to my early days at Taylors. Maybe it was some connection to Gunnison and my father. Or maybe it was someone whom I should have known better. Should have spent more time with. Its hard to say anymore. As I age and memories come fast and furious, often I mix up times and people. I will almost certainly see people give me a long look as we pass on the street. They obviously know me, but I may not recognize them anymore. Too many years away from retail and the life in front of people. Too much time in the oil field away from real society. Sometimes a person I recognize will recognize me also. We may nod and smile. Or actually greet and shake hands. Rarely will I know their name, unless they tell me. Jenny will ask who that was, and I’ll say CFTS. Code for ‘customer from the store’. She knows what it means. The threads are getting more tenuous and thinner by the year.




Photographers Remembered – Some are passed-some are not. I may have missed obits if they have passed.

Guy Stephens owned Stephens Sporting Goods on Main Street, downtown Grand Junction. He employed LeRoy Wyler as his photo salesman. Classic guy. Unkempt, brash. He was a packrat. The counters were cluttered and unorganized, But he knew where everything was!

Al Ligrani was a local pro photographer. He was the first pro photographer to come in to GT and assist me with knowledge. Mid 80’s.

Wes Edfast. Owner of a local mortuary. A very serious customer. Later in life came in after he had a stroke. Could barely speak but I could feel he really wanted to have another photo conversation.

Gene Bruce. One of my mentors. Was manager right before I took over in ‘85. Thin and wiry. Very energetic. We had a mercurial relationship. After he quit GT he started a home business developing E6 and BW.

Frank Bietz. Another classic old timer. I worked with Frank for decades. Another unkempt, brash salesman, like Wyler. Occasionally would upset customers with his direct delivery. Was one of Genes first hires in the late 60s. Midwest Camera Supply. Passed Oct 2013.

Hans Kunz. German to the core. Tons of knowledge. A leader of one of the local photo clubs.

Gil Wenger. Great customer. Would walk in and greet us at the counter with a yodel. Later also had a stroke. Never made it out of the hospital.

Bob Bishop. Local pro. Had a very successful postcard and poster business during the 70’s and 80’s. Digital cameras killed his business in the 90’s. Now has Alzheimer’s. (2009)

Bob Grant. Longtime head photographer for Daily Sentinel. Tried to get Mt. Garfield in every one of his shots. One of my earliest customers

Dr. Morales. Local dr. big time enthusiast. Would be constantly looking for the next best camera body. Gear head. Lots of fun.

Rich Martineau. Mr. and Mrs. Photo. Short time in GJ. Cancer took him quickly.

Doc Ross. Avid photographer and very good. Incorporated his photography into his Veterans assistance. Won some awards too. Passed November 2012.

Herb Saunders. PVC Communications. Local commercial photographer and developer. Especially Cibachromes.

Dillard Jenkins. Commercial photographer. Was City Markets in-house ad photographer until they sold out to Kroger.

Dave Canady. Studio 119. Classic, big guy. Enthusiastic and genuine.  Was very sharing with information.

Matt Chambers. Ran a small photo business/portrait studio for years. Always happy and fun to be around. Very involved with Scouts. Just an all-around nice guy. Passed July 2010.

Cotton Balls

I pull the cotton balls from the container and pull them apart a bit. Not all the way, but just enough to give them a new look. I then toss them on the floor. When I have enough I imagine being in an airplane and am looking down on them.

IMG_5028There are many different layers of these cotton balls between the Deadhorse airport and the Anchorage airport. Sometimes so thick you cannot see the earth, and other times very sparse. But they seem to be omni-present. There is hardly a completely clear 24 hour period in Prudhoe bay. It is at times completely covered by a layer of clouds. The sun is rare this close to the arctic ocean.

IMG_5030And there is water everywhere. Puddles turn into ponds, which keep growing until they reach the ocean. You can see them meandering their way towards something bigger. Slowly making giant S’s across the valley floor. Working from one side to the other. Sometimes the S’s meet in the middle making a shorter path to bigger things. And instantly making a small island of the cut-off section.

IMG_5029The many undulations of this river talk to me. They ask about some of my life choices. Why I didn’t just head straight in, but chose to meander from side to side a bit. Why have I so many layers surrounding me and only a few know whats beneath them. The answer is ahead, I guess. When I reach the ocean. The last place we visit on our journey. Perhaps it is not the last. Perhaps we turn into a vapor and rise again. Turning into another layer of cotton balls. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. Meandering just a little bit more.

Wyler Watch

Sometimes technology is too much. I love this computer age and all my gadgets, but there are times when it seems to be in the way. I wear pocket watches usually to tell time. In my new job in Prudhoe Bay it is difficult to get to my pocket at times. So I purchased a wristwatch. I haven’t worn a wristwatch in over 35 years and it is taking me a little time to get used to it. My father bought me a pocket watch for my high school graduation. And I have purchased and saved numerous pocket watches over the years. Kind of a haphazard collection. 

Mancil Page was the owner of Page-Parsons Jewelry (no relation) and he started me on Wyler watches. Wyler started around the turn of the century, the one before this one, and lasted until the early 70s. The name was sold recently and they now make garish, expensive watches. But the Wylers of old were practical and simple and elegant. They don’t have an expensive brand and are not very pricey on eBay or through shops. Mancil collected them and kept me in the loop whenever he got a new one, and I returned the favor. And I now own a dozen or so pockets. The collection may never be worth anything as far as selling them, but I get a nice sense of satisfaction from them. A reminder of simpler times. It’s nice to have a watch in my pocket or on my wrist that does just one thing. And it looks good doing it! My new ( to me) watch was built in the early 1960s, like me. It is a very clean watch with very little scratching or fading. And it tells time accurately. 

I write this on my iPhone. A device that does many things very well. And it can be a watch in a sense also. But it will eventually be replaced with a newer shinier model. And no one will be using this iPhone model in 50 years. But my Wylers will still work. And that is a a small satisfaction that makes me smile. 

“When you get to the moon, find my lens cap!”



Update 11/17/16 – Norma passes. Obit at bottom.

Update 11/1/17 – Bob Passes. Obit at Bottom



I’ve worked with and assisted countless photographers over the decades. Many I have forgotten. Some I haven’t seen for 20 or 30 years, I can remember the faces, but not necessarily the names. One photographer I will never forget – Bob Bishop. But sadly he no longer remembers me.


Bob Bishop
Bob Bishop
Bob in his home office.

When I first met Bob back in the ’80s he had come into the store looking for pricing in slide film. Not unusual, many photographers wanted to buy locally if they could. The problem was that it was almost impossible for me to match the pricing of films of the large New York retailers. As we talked I learned of his business and what he did.

Bob was a full time photographer making a living. This is unusual as many photographers are part time hobbyists, having another job outside of photography. Bob sold postcards. And lots of them.IMG_0362

Cases of postcards ready for delivery.

Lots and lots of postcards. Back in the 60s and thru the early 90s Bob had card stands in every tourist stop and recreational retailer in a 4 state area. At our Gene Taylors in Snowmass CO. we had a Bob Bishop postcard stand. Bob would show up a few times a month in the busy seasons and refill the card rack. There were hundreds of choices and thousands of cards,

Just one of the slide storage areas.

And they weren’t all just 4×6 sized either. He sold bigger versions up to an 8×10 and also a line of posters. And there was enough business in this over the years he could support his family in a comfortable fashion.


Old photographs trigger old memories!

Bob kept all of his slides at home in a organizational style some would call chaotic, but he knew where they were. The best sellers he kept in a different place.

Over the years we traded gear, sometimes I sold him stuff and sometimes he sold me stuff. He was a very good photographer and used many different tools to get the exact photo he wanted. But mainly he used 35mm film gear.


Brochure-Front-Final small
Photo conference in Aspen – 1951.

One of the first successful Photo Conferences was help in Aspen. There is an amazing group photo of the instructors at this conference, Ansel Adams, Dorothea Lange, Minor White and more. Bob was there and took photos of these groundbreaking photographers. But I can’t show it. Its copywrited and has value for future uses. But please check out Bobs website.

From left, my wife Jenny, Bob Bishop, Bobs wife Norma, at his recent show at the Art Center in Grand Junction, Summer 2015.

Bob is 93 now and age is catching up. Dementia is upon him like a warm blanket settling over his shoulders. When he looks at me there is no recognition in his eyes. All of our history is erased to him. And even Norma doesn’t really know me. She is very nice and says she does. But I am gone to her also. He talked to my wife for a good hour at his recent show at the Art Center. He told her stories of visiting the moon and war stories and other things, mostly false memories. When he and I had a chance to visit, that is when he asked me in the nicest way, “When you get to the moon, find my lens cap!”   I miss you Bob. Have nice travels!


Norma Bishop


Norma Ann Bishop
February 22, 1932 – October 7, 2016
Norma Ann Bishop, of Grand Junction, died October 7, 2016, after a lengthy battle with pulmonary fibrosis and colon cancer. She was 84.
Norma was born February 22, 1932, to Rudolf “Rudy” and Rubye Steinacker in Kansas City, MO. Norma, the youngest of three, spent her childhood on a farm in Parkville, MO.
She graduated from Parkville High School where she played the saxophone in the band. Norma graduated from Iowa State Teachers College (now the University of Northern Iowa) in Cedar Falls in 1953, with a bachelor’s degree in education with a major in art and a minor in music.
Norma started her teaching career as an art teacher in West Des Moines, Iowa. She subsequently taught in New Mexico, Japan and the Denver Metro Area before retiring from Taylor Elementary in Palisade in 1997. Norma taught elementary students in Crownpoint, N.M. on the Navajo Reservation early in her career. She took a sabbatical to teach English for two years (1986-1988) at Shokei Women’s Junior College in Sendai, Japan. Norma taught many subjects and grade levels, but she especially enjoyed teaching second grade.
Norma married Robert “Bob” Carskaddan Bishop on November 30, 1958, in Parkville. Bob, a retired professional photographer, is known for his postcard photographs. They met in Denver when Bob made a print for her in his darkroom.
Norma, who was a lifelong learner, was involved in several organizations, including the Mesa County Retired Teachers Association (MCSPERA) and the Colorado School and Public Employees Retirement Association (CSPERA). She was also a member of the Grand Mesa Macintosh Users Group (GMMUG), Western Colorado Bonsai Society, High Desert Orchid Society and the Colorado Mountain Club.
Other memberships included the Colorado National Monument Association, The Art Center in Grand Junction, Western Colorado Botanical Gardens, the Denver Botanic Gardens, Denver Art Museum and the Denver Museum of Nature & Science.
She enjoyed gardening, reading, traveling, music, art, ceramics, basketry, stained glass, calligraphy, botanical illustration, archaeology and genealogy. Norma was proud of her Swiss heritage. In addition to the saxophone, she played the piano, flute and handbells. Her pets over the years, a rabbit, birds, dogs and a pony, brought joy to her life.
After moving to Grand Junction in 1969, Norma was a member of the First Presbyterian Church and the First Congregational Church UCC.
During Norma’s retirement, she was a board member at Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, N.M. She was a volunteer master gardener with the Colorado State University Extension Office in Mesa County. She traveled to Poland in 1998 where she briefly taught English. Other travels with her adventurous spirit included Ecuador and a number of countries in Asia and Europe. She was generous with her time as a volunteer.
Norma was preceded in death by her parents, Rudy Steinacker in 1967 and Rubye Lillian Whiteaker Steinacker in 1951; her sister, Marian Louise Fine in 2009; brother-in-law, Quentin Fine in 2012; brother-in-law, Leonard Stanford Pani in 2005; sister-in-law, Mary Bishop Pani in 1958; father-in-law, Jerome Bishop of Muscatine, Iowa in 1980, and mother-in-law, Marie Barry Brenizer also of Muscatine in 1991.
Norma is survived by her husband, Bob; daughter, Laura Bishop of Grand Junction; brother, Warren Ray Steinacker (Linda) of Glen Mills, PA; nieces, Elaine Scott (Sid), Cincy Borne (Hank), Sharon Steinacker, Eileen Fine, Sheryl Fine (John Lewis) and Marilyn Fine (Craig McCracken); nephews, Doug Stanford (Adriana), Jay Pani, John Pani (Carolyn Mervis) and Tom Pani (Suzanne), and a number of great nieces and nephews.
In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions can be made to the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation, 230 East Ohio St., Suite 500, Chicago, IL 60611.
A memorial service will be held in Grand Junction in November. Burial was at Walnut Grove Cemetery November 3 in Parkville.
Arrangements were made by Meyers Funeral Chapel – Northland in Parkville and Callahan-Edfast Mortuary in Grand Junction.

– See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/gjsentinel/obituary.aspx?n=norma-bishop&pid=182564187&fhid=20357#sthash.JPyzTZvk.dpuf


Robert Carskaddan Bishop

Be the first to share your memories or express your condolences in the Guest Book for Robert Carskaddan Bishop.

Robert Carskaddan Bishop
February 12, 1921 – September 21, 2017
Robert “Bob” Carskaddan Bishop, a well-known landscape photographer, of Grand Junction, died September 21, 2017, at 96.
Bob was born February 12, 1921, to Jerome and Marie Bishop in Muscatine, Iowa. He graduated from Muscatine High School where he played the cornet in the band. He was the high school yearbook photographer and had his own darkroom where he learned to develop black and white photography.
Bob received a Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering from the University of Iowa in Iowa City, Iowa in 1943.
After college, Bob worked at Moffett Field in Northern California where he served in the U.S. Navy from 1944 to 1946. His job duties included conducting wind tunnel research on the Bell P-39 Airacobra fighter airplane and aeronautical research on the B-25 Mitchell bomber.
Bob took art, design and architecture courses at Stanford University in Palo Alto, California in 1950 – 1951. His interest in photography led him to take workshops from Ansel Adams and Minor White in the 1950s.
Bob married Norma Ann Steinacker on November 30, 1958, in Parkville, MO. They met in Denver when Bob printed some photos for her.
One of Bob’s early assignments was to photograph the first U.S. photography conference in 1951 at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen. A number of high-profile photographers in various photography disciplines attended.
Bob spent more than 60 years photographing landscapes throughout the West for commercial use. Most of his landscape views were in Colorado which he began marketing as color postcards in the late 1950s. His work focused on resort towns with tourists. His photos documented the history of a number of Colorado ski resorts.
In addition to his postcard business, Bob was a consultant to the Ansel Adams Gallery in Yosemite National Park during the 1980s. The Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C. sold his Snowmass Balloon Festival poster in the 1980s. His slide show “Short Haul to Yesterday” – photos of the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad trip – was shown in the 1960s.
Bob was a member of the Postcard Distributors Association of North America. He won postcard of the year for several photos from the organization. He also won best action photo of the year from POWDER magazine. He had solo exhibits of his work in Grand Junction and Gunnison. A documentary about his career was recently completed.
Other memberships included the Colorado National Monument Association and Western Colorado Center for the Arts in Grand Junction.
In addition to his photography, Bob, who had a sense of humor, enjoyed hiking, swimming, skiing, traveling, golfing, the outdoors, music and genealogy. He was proud of his Irish heritage. His pets over the years – a cat, birds, a rabbit and his dog, Skeena, brought joy to his life.
Bob was preceded in death by his wife, Norma in 2016; parents, Jerome Bishop in 1980 and Marie Barry Brenizer in 1991; younger sister, Mary Helen Bishop Pani in 1958; brother-in-law, Leonard Stanford Pani in 2005; father-in-law, Rudy Steinacker in 1967; mother-in-law, Rubye Steinacker in 1951; sister-in-law, Marian Fine in 2009, and brother-in-law, Quentin Fine in 2012.
Bob is survived by his daughter, Laura Bishop of Grand Junction; nephews, Doug Stanford (Adriana), Jay Pani, John Pani (Carolyn Mervis) and Tom Pani (Suzanne); brother-in-law, Warren Steinacker (Linda) of Glen Mills, PA; nieces, Elaine Scott (Sid), Cincy Borne (Hank), Sharon Steinacker, Eileen Fine, Sheryl Fine (John Lewis) and Marilyn Fine (Craig McCracken), and a number of cousins, great-nieces and nephews.
A memorial service will be held at Western Colorado Center for the Arts, today, October 21 at 3:00 p.m. Burial at Orchard Mesa Cemetery in Grand Junction. Arrangements made by Callahan-Edfast Mortuary.
In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions to Alzheimer’s Association, 2232 N. 7th St., Grand Junction, CO 81501 or Western Colorado Center for the Arts, 1803 N. 7th St., Grand Junction, CO 81501; reference Robert Bishop in donation.



Second Chances and Back-up Plans told through a Lens.

Is Brian Williams a verb yet? Im going to get all Brian William-sy in this post and combine a few trips I took into one. My memories also get hazy looking backwards. While I may be combining some trips that were a few years separated, the stories and intent are true…

Sunset in Bisti
Sunset in Bisti

This is where I had my epiphany. Right here in Bisti Badlands in upper New Mexico. This was one of the stops on a series of photography trips I took over a few year stretch in the late 80s-early 90s. The accomplices were usually the same – Steve Traudt, Randy Pearce, Jim Cook, Rod Martinez, and a few others. But I’ll get back to this. First…

Monument valley 1

The trips start with long road truck rides to get to destinations. Usually, in our case, somewhere southwest. Utah, Arizona, New Mexico. These kind of places. Lots of red rocks, piñon and loose dirt. Planned stops along the way involve tripods and cameras. My camera of choice in that time was a Nikon F4S.Nikon F4SI really liked this body. It was a modular design. I had different viewfinders, backs and bottoms, so I could change it on the fly to me specific needs at the time. Certain Medium Format cameras have been doing this for decades, but this was the the best 35mm camera to do this. This also was one of the first cameras that I owned that fit me perfectly. It got to the point where I didn’t have to move my eye from the finder to adjust anything. The dials just fell to my fingers intuitively.

Horseshoe Bend - Page AZ

One of our favorite stops is Page Arizona. This small town is the center of a lot of things photographic. Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell, Horseshoe Bend, The Wave, The Slot Canyons and more. I had a starter motor go out on my Chevy truck at the lower slot canyon. Randy and Rod were under the truck replacing that damn starter motor on a 100 degree day. Not only that, but after the motor was replaced we went down into the lower slots for the next 6 hours to photograph.

Slots 99

The slot canyons are magical. I have been there 3 times and each time it is different. The way the light bounces around the canyon and softens as it filters down. I have used 35mm and a 6X7 medium format camera in there and have gotten some really nice shots. Who knows what will ever happen to them, but I have them.

Lower Slot Canyon, Page AZ
Lower Slot Canyon, Page AZ

After we left the Arizona area we travelled to a little known area called  Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness. Also a fun place to photograph. Amazing towering rocks and so beautiful in its starkness.

bisti 3 bisti 1

And it is here that I have my view changed. I so relied on my F4 and it was so bombproof over the years, that I never gave a second thought to any problems or issues it may give me. But here I am in Bisti and my batteries die. I need AA batteries in the grip. And I have some in my backpack. Some nice lithiums. Brand new products from the Energizer folks. But you see that my F4 was built before lithiums and did not have the circuitry to handle this increase in power, I insert the batteries and turn the camera on. I hear a very faint *pop* and hear a barely audible sizzle. And my F4 is dead. A very heavy dead. And so I am here, in the wilderness, miles from the truck with a storm looming (see above), with a brick for a camera. I am distraught. We have many more days of shooting ahead and I am done. Toast. Finis.

Nikon FM2

As I am putting my F4 away in my backpack, wrapping it in the neoprene wrap I used for extra protection, my hand hits something hard down in the bottom of the bag. My FM2! I had stuffed it down there months earlier on another shoot. I was saved! A shot of adrenaline courses through my body. I think I cried a bit at the circumstances. Before I was lost, bereft of hope, and now I am saved! I had unknowingly made my own Plan B!  A second chance. At the time I stuffed the backup body in the bag, I had no way of foreseeing the tragedy of new batteries in an older body. And I had given myself a second chance without knowing. All because I had stuffed a manual body down in the bowels of my backpack. And so then I made more images on the way home.

Lonely WindmillSilverton SIG-SHP-159-Yankee Girl Mine 1 Ouray area 6

Having that camera body stuffed in my pack saved the trip. The images mean a lot to me because of the way I had to take them. And an unintentional backup plan taught me to be more conscious of making intentional backup plans!

You Never Forget Your First!

72 Chevy NovaAnd she was a beautiful girl. 4 doors and a small 307 V8. 3 on the tree and a hi/lo switch on the floor. I got her to commit to be mine for only $500. She really liked to eat her way thru starter motors, but I could forgive that. I re-upholstered the bench seats and gave her some neat black new rubber shoes. And she ran! I’m not going to call her heavy, but tipping the scales at a ton and a half, she was no speedster off the line. But once you got her purring at about 63 MPH, she would cruise forever.

You could put a lot of junk in her trunk and fill her up in the backseat with barely a whimper. She was with me through high school. A trip with Lex to Montana and back. Through numerous trips to Grand Junction to visit Mom. She accompanied me on dates with my soon to be bride. She even went with me when I eventually moved to Grand Junction for good. But alas, it was too hot in the summers in Grand Junction. And my new job demanded a truck. So I dumped her. And regret it to this day.

It is true that you never forget your first. The freedom that comes at 17 with your first car. No more relying on parents for rides. Taking friends to Neversink for Woodsies and Mickies Big Mouths. (Shhhh, thats a secret!) Listening to Meatloafs ‘Love by the Dashboard Lights’ on a tinny AM radio. Gotta love the 70’s. But it is the nostalgia, and the vivid memories of everything that is attached to that car that remains. I’ve had numerous vehicles and motorcycles since. But none tug at my heart like my 1972 Chevy Nova sedan. Green with the white top. And a backseat measured in acres!