Goodbye Harrison!

Dear Harrison,

You were the best car. You really really were. You were the first car that belonged totally to me. The first time I saw you I fell in love with your sleek red sides and short fat butt of a trunk. You weren't to short and you weren't too long. (This is important, more important than you might think for short girls who aren't so great at backing up.) You had so much room on your back bumper for all the bumper stickers I could ever want to put on you.

My first tags gave you your name: 24 HF 12. I loved those tags. They pleased each of my OCD tendencies; even numbers, a good number letter pattern, easy division problem and the initials of the best actor in the history of the world. Harrison Ford. I'll never forget anxiously waiting in line at the DMV for your tags, wondering what number and letter sequence you would be. When they plopped down the tags in front of me, I couldn't believe it. We were meant to be.

I remember the time Dad and to replace a bunch of parts on you and I came home to find you all taken apart on the shop floor! Dad did such a great job of putting you back together and keeping you running well for all those MA VT years!

You took me back and forth from MA to VT. You spent entire summers on the Cape. During one, you drove me all the way into the heart of Maine and back again, same day. We made lots of trips back and forth to the Cape (first serious boyfriend) and later back and forth from Bennington to North Adams (second serious boyfriend.)

Harrison, you drove me from my old life in MA to my new life in NM. You were the wheels for the best rode trip ever. (All of you reading, if you ever get the chance to drive across the country with your Mum and your plant, do it. You will never regret it.) You took us across the border with Canada (numerous times, not a lot of good signage.) Past the wine groves in PA, past the Brooks and Dunn gear bus in Ohio, across the border between IL and Mo (again numerous times, because for one state the border is the river and the for the other it was a random line on the road.) Down across OK and Texas where we encountered the biggest cross (in the world?) Finally, into NM and to La Pasa. Once you got here, I didn't have to drive you much. It was nice to work and live in the same area. Out here we went all the way to Arizona and all the way to Wyoming.

Throughout these years, you have jump started all sort of cars that were bigger (Ford Explorer) and more expensive (Mercedes.) Remember that time we used the tow cables that Dad bought us that we thought we would never use to pull a two wheel drive truck out of a muddy ditch?! The best part was that I did all the hooking up and directing in a mini skirt and heels! The New Mexican boys that didn't know how do this (or drive a stick!) were very impressed with the little white girl from the Northeast!

You've always taken good care of me and all the friends and family you've encountered along the way. I was sad when the first car dealership offered only 500 for you, sadder when the second didn't even say what they would give us and even sadder when the third (and final! more on that later) dealership offered 250. I knew that you were worth far more, but we worried that because you had a selvage title, no one else would be able to see that.

Craigslist proved us wrong. Tonight you were sold to a very nice guy that is a student by day and a pest control person by night for way more than the amounts mentioned previously. He wanted you because you would get better gas mileage than his Jeep. As I did the last minute check to make sure all my personal things were taken out of you, I took one long last look. You were a great car.

Love,

Ms. Knitter!