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 regular cars.
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 her.
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.
Regards,
Tom Watson
tjwatson1ATcomcastDOTnet (real email)