Back in 1982 - just out of high school, I bought a '72 bus from a student at Hopkins who was graduating - it was parked at a frat house and it had to go. It had four new Pirelli tires, almost worth the $200 I paid.
It was an interesting vehicle. Heat was non-existent. It had a wind-chill factor. My then-girlfriend had never experienced a vehicle that was so cold - even with the optional passenger-side sleeping bag. Several years later, she married me anyway.
Without the seats, it was a huge warehouse on wheels. I could haul a 4X8 sheet of plywood easily. Or with one seat, it holds four friends and a quarter keg for a long Ocean City weekend. The sunroof leaked and, after a rain, a deluge of water would flow from the reservoir between the roof and headliner. Care with brakes would help to control the destination.
When I first brought the bus home, my dad made several disparaging remarks about the waste of money, etc. After I left home, he adopted the bus as his own. When it finally died, he replaced it with another a year or two newer.
Now some thirty years later, I remember the bus fondly. But in the end, I mostly remember how cold it was. Heat is good.