In 1981, my mom had a ’76 Vega Kammback. I distinctly remember the night during a particularly cold, Omaha winter, when she wanted to come home from her job at Norman’s Shoe Store and the orange wagon wouldn’t start. Dad and I went out to rescue her, and between the bitter cold wind, darkness, and rage-filled swearing coming out of my dad, I learned to hate the Vega. At eight years-old, I didn’t know about the car’s reputation, or the recalls, or the safety concerns. I just knew that the air conditioner wouldn’t cool off in the summer, and it wouldn’t start in the winter. Of course, now that I’m older, I’ve developed a bit of a soft spot for the Vega. They were great-looking little cars. They were actually pretty innovative. And everyone seemed to have one. That’s why today we’ll take a look back at “the little car that does everything well.”
