Fond Farewell

In 1985, after Keilie had passed away, my parents bought their first new car.  A red Nissan pickup truck.  It had no radio, no power steering- in fact, no power anything.  It was the base of the base models.  Throughout the years my dad has added two radios and a toothpick as the speedometer reader.  He has taken incredible care of that truck, as proof from the four girls that learned to drive in that thing.  My dad wanted us to learn to drive on a stick in case we were ever in a situation where we needed to drive one.  (In hindsight, that did actually happen to me once.)  My first and favorite memory of that truck was the first day ever that my dad took me to the church around the corner from our home.  I was doing great!!!  I could get started without stalling, park in the parking stalls, and was ready to conquer the world.  At the time, the road between the church and our house was a detour for the construction on 5600 S, so it was BUSY!  My dad thought I'd done a great job in the parking lot, so he told me to drive all the way home.  I was ready.  Until we got to the left turn onto our road.  There was traffic coming at a continuous stream.  First opening...Stall.  Up pulls an RCWilley truck.  After two more stalls, he pulls around me jumping the curb and gives me a honk.  Or two three.  I'm getting more and more reserved about making this turn!!  Then, pulling up behind me has to be the boy that I've had a crush on since second grade.  The boy that is in my exact same drivers Ed class, learning to drive a stick.  Yep, of course.  A few more openings in traffic, a few more stalls and out comes the tears, and hysterics.  I'm looking in the rearview mirror, wanting to die, only to see Logan laughing at me!  It only fueled my hate fire even more.  I gave myself an ultimatum...next opening I'd make the turn or walk home.  I walked.  Do you think Logan made fun of me at school the next day?  Yes, yes he did!
There have been many, many, many good memories with that truck.  The Friday before Christmas, my parents were headed back from Home Depot.  As they pulled into their driveway, our little red truck died.  Completely seized.  It's not worth the money it would take to fix it.  With heavy heart I say goodbye to an icon.  Goodbye to the Burrell Trademark.  Goodbye to our little red truck!