My brother Greg got his wagon when he was diagnosed with Legg Perthes disease and had to be in a spica cast for a year. My Dad was away in Vietnam and my mother used the wagon to lug around my brother and his huge plaster cast all by herself. She laughs because she says it took her an hour just to go mail a letter to Dad because she had to get the heavy wagon in and out of the car and tow Greg around. Fast forward 40 years.....the wagon has been ressurected from Mom and Dad's attic for my son Grant, who is "almost 2," as he will tell you proudly. Greg's little licence plate is still on the wagon, and quite frankly, it has a charm that a new wagon doesn't. Up and down the street we go to the beach and back. What's old is new again, and so special as I know it was how my brother got around for such a long time, so long ago.