Chrysler to Close Mini-van Production Plant in St. Louis

What said more about American suburbia than the mini-van? It was what every carefree bachelor dreaded. It came along with the house mortgage, the garage, and the 2.5 kids. But it also meant, to a certain extent, that he had "arrived." And for her, she could now become a "soccer mom" and have room for the kids, the groceries, and the dog all at the same time.

The mini-van probably started as a covered delivery truck. You might remember those from the days when milk came in bottles and was delivered door-to-door. Then along came the fifties and the expansion out of the cities. The interstate highway system was being finished and that square delivery truck became more streamlined and turned into a station wagon. The first real mini-van in my mind came during the sixties. The Volkswagen bus became the counterculture's hip answer to the station wagon of the fifties. But despite its "flower power" the things weren't that reliable and they suffered from safety issues and a decided lack of room. Then came the seventies and the "conversion" vans, mini homes on wheels complete with shag carpeting and window blinds and a "Don't Bother Knocking if the Van's Rocking" bumper sticker. This trend would continue through the eighties when the van once again reached its heyday.

I've only owned one mini van in my life, a 1991 GMC Safari that I loved. She had almost 300,000 miles on her before she was stolen. It was a crime of opportunity. The driver's side door wouldn't lock and older GM vehicles are notorious for being easy to steal. One of the police officers taking the report said the old vans were popular as portable meth labs. They drive them out into the woods and cook meth in back until they are discovered or they blow the thing up. Sad to think that old Bessie had come to such a sad fate.