Funny how things work in life...

[Ncostello]

Many years ago my grandpa bought a new Ford truck. I was in high school and drove an old beat up Dodge pickup. Instead of trading in his F150 at the time... he gave it to me. It was only 6 years old at the time... but it was like all his others before it. It was a plain jane blue 6cyl manual shift with a white roof. He ordered them that way each time. The one I got handed down was always garaged, highly maintained and low miles. Normally the trucks were worn out when he traded them in... but he retired from the coal mine when this one was only 2 years old. So it was still nice.



His new one was to be a two tone F150... red and maroon XLT lariat loaded. Per my grandma who was tired of plain and knew this would be his last. She wanted it loaded and automatic. She got the last say in this one.



I was very proud of this truck and installed American Racing outlaw wheels and kept it in superb condition. I drove it to college and for several years after college. Everyone knew my by that truck. I swore I'd always keep it and one day drive it in his funeral out of respect. But the years and miles (300,000) caught up with it and eventually wore it out. I couldn't drive it anymore without spending about $3000 on it... from what I figured up one day. So I parked it. Eventually it was "in the way" and I sold it for much of nothing, although I swore I never would. I discussed with grandpa first and he gave me "permission" to sell it noting it had served its purpose.



What a mistake.



Tuesday my grandpa passed away. He was 83 and lived a good life. Hard worker and my best friend. He raised me, made me who I am, and taught me how to work on trucks from his experience in mining for 38 years. He was a WWII Army Vet and saw action in Japan. Lots of stories there. Lots of everything.



Today before the funeral... I took a drive out by his house. I didn't turn off the highway on his road but rather drove past it. I don't know why. Just as I passed his turnoff... there was my old blue Ford heading northbound past me. There is no mistaking the truck. I hadn't cried until then about all this... because we were even and I knew he was ready to be with my grandma. But when I saw it I instantly teared up and wondered why of all days I would see the truck I had thought about in recent days so much. It had hurt me I didn't still have it, but since it wasn't around it was out of my mind mostly. But there it was.



And the person who owns it doesn't live around here. I sold it to a guy down the street, whom in turn sold it to a guy who lives about 4 counties over. I'd not seen it for several years since I sold it. But often wondered about it. I have plenty of photos of it when it was pristine. I loved that truck. But for some reason let go of it. It wasn't worth anything... yet was worth everything to me.



And there it was an hour before the funeral today. Passing me like a ghost. I can only hope that maybe grandpa planned this for me to remind me of the good times we had and how much I loved him, and how much he loved me.



Mom wants me to have his red Ford... but I don't know. The old one was "his" truck to me. The one we went fishing in and the one he taught me to drive when I was 12. He actually let me drive it on State highways (with him as passenger) at that age and let me drive it to highschool basketball games by myself when I was 14 and had no license. I couldn't get a ride from anyone... so he let me. As long as I promised to stay on the back roads. That was his generation. The can do attitude. I couldn't imagine kids doing that nowadays.



I think I need to track it down and see if I can get it back. Or at least let this person know if they ever sell it the MUST call me first. I'm sorry I didn't have it today. But I didn't. The funeral went fine otherwise. And I didn't feel sorry. Cause he's with me everyday. I think about him all the time even before all this. I didn't feel like he was leaving.



Anyhow... I just wanted to share what happened. It seems strange... but then again maybe its not. There has to be reasons for things like this. This happening by pure chance is an impossibility on today of all days.

 

[CSnyder]

My deepest sympathy goes out to you and your family during your loss.



I also had one of those reminisant days myself. I got a call this morning from a sibling to come to the hospital to see my grandma who was taken in via ambulance for a stroke at age 86. The doctor told us she will be lucky to make it 5 days and even though I know she is content and ok with passing it still hurts very much. During the 5 hours I spent there with her I never went outside but when I left her at 6 pm tonight I went out to find my truck had removed itself from park and rolled back thru the parking lot into a small tree without hurting anything. The same identical thing happened to my grandfather when he came to the hospital to see my father before he died. My grandfather passed about 2 years after my dad. It was like it was his way of saying lean on me because Im here for you. Much like you my grandfather was a HUGE part in my life as we family farmed right next door to each other.



If you need someone to talk with feel free to call me at 563-546-7772. The TDR family has always been there for me with all the deaths in my family including my wife just a few years ago.



Chris Snyder

 

[DBentley]

Sorry to hear about your loss.

You don't have the old truck but you will always have the memories and good strong upbringing he gave you that lasts for ever.



God bless

 

[SHobbs]

Sorry to hear about your loss. It is a crazy way that life works indeed. I remember my grandfather always talked about ring tailed cats or civet cats as he called them. I never had the opportunity to see one until the month he passed away. I was on a train headed to Big Springs Tx and some where between Sweetwater and Big Springs I looked out the cab window and caught my first and only glimpse of a civet cat. This was in Oct. of 99 and I have been out that way a few times since then and have yet to see another one.

 

[Ncostello]

Thank you for the comments. I've never posted anything like this in the years I've been on here. But I knew it was the right place to get it out. Thanks

 

[kenny61]

In 1987 I drove my dad to the Chevy dealer to pick up his new car a Caprice Classic, his car before that was a green 1974 Dodge Dart, I remember him arguing with the salesman that he didn't want power steering or power brakes. At any rate when he got the car along with the PS and PB it had A/C. He would show everybody his new car and tell them how it was "loaded" with all the options. Dad passed awhile back and while the Caprice was always his car it now sits in my driveway waiting for the day when I will lovingly go over it fixing every little thing wrong with it and giving it fresh paint. The car is clean except for some scratches and dings except where one wonderful person hit the rear quarter panel and left with out stopping when I took it to work one day. Its really not my type of car but I know I feel close to dad whenever I work on it or drive it. I'm sure you would feel the same way with your grandads truck.



Condolences

Ken

 

[Ncostello]

Thanks. Yes... the old Ford was a 1984 F150. Prior to that he had a 1980 Ford F100 and a 1976 F100. Those were the trucks I remember growing up. In 1986 the mine he worked at closed its doors and moved. He retired a little early and kept the 84 until 91 when he got his "loaded" F150 Lariat that still is in his garage.



He never completely liked the 91. Although it had the same 300 six as the others... it was fuel injected and automatic. And heavier. It used "twice as much" gas as the others according to him... which is why he said it needed two tanks. Although in reality I'm sure it didn't use that much more.



I drove the 84 from 1991 until selling it in 2007. I USED the heck out of that truck. I mean I literally did everything from "drag" racing when I was in highschool to hauling rock in it until the bumper touched the ground. There was nothing it couldn't do it seemed. Finally the engine had little compression, the clutch was smoked again for the third time, the brake system was rotted away and the suspension was so loose I was afraid it might fall out from under the truck. It needed a full restoration. And at that point in life I didn't know if I'd ever get to it. Which is why I sold it. The guy who bought it spent about 1500 making it road-able again. Thats the condition it is in now. The paint is gone too. Years of me over waxing it took its toll.



I hope to begin a "quest" to get it back. I need it back. If only to park it behind my garage and throw a tarp over it until I get a different house with a nice large pole barn to work on it.



One of the things I used to cherish most about it was there were only four people to ever drive it. My grandpa, my grandma (rare), me and my old highschool girlfriend. Who I still talk to once in a while and we always talk about me teaching her to drive a 3speed column shift. Those were good times. She actually became pretty good at it... and she has never drove a manual shift since.



Thanks for the uplifting stories.

 

[PToombs]

Nick, my condolences on the loss of your grandfather. I've been there also with a vehicle. I have my grandfathers 53 Ford F-500 dump truck. I learned to drive that truck in the driveway at his house. Many times I have thought of selling it to get it out of my way. The last time was just as Alan Jacksons song came out, "When daddy let me drive" or what ever it's called. That song brought tears to my eyes. I've decided that the truck will stay, and I hope to get it restored before my sons are old enough to drive, so I can teach them on it.

You have to do what you need to do.

Good luck on your quest,