Nearly four decades ago, when Nancy and I launched Portland Monthly, we tooled around in the red 1966 Mustang Fastback we’d received as a wedding present

in 1980. It had been my Mom’s car; even then it turned heads on I-295. When someone made an offer we couldn’t refuse, we gulped, said good-bye, and sold it for seed money. As we recall, “the ’Stang’s” only drawback was you had to put everything down (including all the flotsam that comes with being young parents) to open the trunk because it took two hands.

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