Mary recently became a new customer of Lane Russell. After looking over a few photos, I knew this was a gem we’ve seen before. As it turns out, our good pal Mark Massey over at Old VWS had restored her. A good ’67 Beetle never gets past Jay and I. This ’67 is an example of doing it right. Kudos to Mark for paying close attention to the small details that matter; the details that make the ’67 the “best year vintage VW.”
I thought I would take the time to tell you my story concerning the 1967 Beetle. When I was a little girl I fell in love with cars. I was only 5 years old and I could Tell you every make and model. It was much easier then. Any work on a car From changing oil to changing flat tires I was with my dad wanting to learn about.
By the time I reached adulthood, I knew exactly what I wanted. I 1966 was working by then for a retailer in data processing. I had my heart set on a SS 396 Burgundy Chevelle Convertible. I went car shopping alone. I can home with one of those yellow sheets with an out the door price. It was around $3800, Which I thought was’t bad. My dad said Flatly no it was too much. So I began to look for other options. I checked out the Mustangs…..I wasn’t a fan. I finally ended up at HILLTOP VOLKSWAGEN in Virginia Beach.
In that day I had to order to get what I wanted. I loved The Zenith Blue color so I ordered It in a convertible. It arrived probably in January. It was very cold. They took it to Pembrooke Mall. It was there a couple of weeks Before I even knew it had arrived. Finally the day came and we went to pick her up. My dad asked if I would like for him to drive her home, since it was a manual and I was rusty.I declined of course and that is when the love affair began. I had a ball with friends going all over Virginia Beach to the beach, to party and of course to work. The year of 1968 was a major change for me. My fiancee’ came back from Vietnam and we were soon married. We had an issue with the governor sticking. I would put it in neutral pull over and flip it back. At times it wouldn’t crank and we would push it off and pop the clutch. He grew weary of the antics and pushed me to trade her. We did and I have regretted it ever since. The 70 Duster was junk and my regrets grew.