I took her papers on in February of 1987.
She was crisp and pretty then. Paint was so red that you could never
again think of red without thinking about the color of that truck.
Sure, it was a small six cylinder but it could pull like blazes and
the "poor man's four wheel drive" of the limited slip did wonders in
the mud and snow.
She was a proud girl and hauled my tools and wood around for fifteen
years without complaint.
When my knees got so bad that I couldn't work the shop anymore, she
ran commuter duty for a couple of years, until I bought a little car
to take up the slack.
I ran her dry on the turnpike one day and busted her head gasket a
little bit but KW fixed that up right smart.
She's out in the driveway now and only goes out to pick up wood, or to
take us on a camping trip, or a fishing trip. She picks up the odd
plant or tree for the yard - something a little too dirty for the
That's her retirement, to give us pleasure in our pursuits and not be
chained to the day to day responsibilities of back and forth to work.
She only gets fired up on the weekends but this seems to be enough for
I would not like to be without a truck.
My old girl has made that possible.
God bless Henry Ford.
God Bless America.
God bless KW.
tjwatson1ATcomcastDOTnet (real email)