Monday, September 24, 2012


He inherited a car from His grandmother. A "Nile Green"1951 Plymouth Cranbrook. It had a 217 cid flat pushing engine with a three-speed manual transmission (maintaining an impressive presence at NASCAR through 1952), and weighing in at about 3,400 pounds.

It was in pristine condition. His grandmother had purchased it brand new, but it had been sitting in her garage un-driven for about 10 years. He spent all his free time getting it in purring. He wanted to paint it. I'm not sure why, I guess to make it "cooler". We had only been dating a few months, but he showed up one day with a color chart, and asked me to choose a color. That was a lot of pressure to put on a young girl's shoulders. I told Him I did not want to make such an important (and lasting), decision, but He insisted that He really, really, really trusted my opinion.

"Cadillac, Light Blue Firemist, GM WA4900". What other color would a self respecting 16 year old girl choose? Well, He painted it "Light Blue Firemist GM W4900", and His friends nicknamed it the "Blue Bomb". Looking back there were sooooooo many classier options to choose from, but He loved that car, and He loved the color.

That light blue firemist Plymouth drove Him through high school, took Him to college, got Him to His first full-time job, and was still around four children later. Top speed on the freeway was 50 mph. It's not with us anymore. He gave it away a few years ago - hoping someone would love it as much as He did - and maybe bring a girl a color chart - and ask her to make a decision that would color the rest of their lives.

He trusted... more reason I love Him.

No comments:

Post a Comment