Goodbye Old Friend

In the spring of 1996, I traded cars with my sister. Robyn got "Pipsqueak," a 1990 Hyundai Excel Sedan which was the only "new" car I've ever owned. I got a white 1995 Ford Taurus.

It was the car that took me out of Lubbock, Texas when I graduated. It was there when I loaded up everything I owned and moved away from home for good. It took me to my first real job in Greenwood, S.C., and became my "company car." And it brought me to Plano, when it was time to leave.

It took me to Anderson, S.C., and took me and my friends on countless road trips across the Southeast. Because the rest of the company cars were Ford Tauruses too, it got the nickname "Car 13," the next number in the company sequence.

My car's last great road trip was to Indianapolis a year ago, when again, I loaded my most valuable possessions into it. It had made the trip twice before, but this was it's last great journey.

Yesterday, my car suffered a fatal failure. It blew a rod and seized a bearing. I took it to a mechanic, who told me that the only cure was to replace the engine. I was going to try to baby the car until I could get a new one in a few weeks, but it's carried me on its final trip.

There was oily puddle under the car this morning, so when I got out of the car at the office, I told the car that I wouldn't drive it until it died. I would let it sit at the IRL until I decide what to do with it.

So thanks Car, for everything. I hope your parts can help other cars live as long as you did.