Anyone can Write · Family · Tell Your Story

My Dad’s Big White Truck

In high school, I drove a big white truck. When I say big, I mean big, like grab on to the steering wheel and heave ho up to the seat.  A bench seat with an old blue seat cover. The actual seat cover had died some time ago.  It was my dad’s truck.  Kind of him to trust me with his first baby named Chevy Silverado.  This baby was born in 1978 and had orange lights on the roof just for fun and fancy.

This truck and I have been through the best of times and the worst of times.  Learning to drive stick and hoping I didn’t roll backwards on a hill.  Truck dying in an intersection and being pushed into an adjoining parking lot by a nice group of men. (that was embarrassing) Lots of rides with friends who put up with the crazy driving skills.  Driving in the desert with Mikaila, one of my best friends from college and her husband, Mike and feeling like we were driving a bucking bronco.

I’ll admit, I was a bit embarrassed to drive the beast.  It was giant, just google it to see.  It was old. It was a gas hog.  It was dusty and smelled like construction sites.  The radio didn’t work.  The air conditioner was broken.  And in the Las Vegas summer, that can feel like a million degrees.  But looking back, I just have to laugh.  It was kind of my calling card.  My friends knew I when I was coming because the bright orange lights led the way.

And now it sits in my parent’s back yard.  Lonely and sad. The last time we were there, I told my dad he had to fix it so I could take Blake and the kids for a ride in it.  I think it’s kind of a right of passage!  I spent  a lot of my growing up years crammed into that seat with my parents and sister, Michelle, before the age of seatbelt laws.  I accidentally put my foot in a pan of fudge when my mom suddenly had to slam on the brakes (and use her arm as a human seatbelt.)  Lots of hours of 80’s music and Pink Floyd.  And playing in the back as a child, pretending it was a bakery.  So, there you go, dad.  Time for you to bring the white truck out of retirement for one last ride.

Left: The kids and cousins in the truck. Right: Me on the truck. Sometime in college. I have no idea who made me take this picture. Mikaila? Sherise!  But I love it.


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