New Owner - Old Truck

We recently inherited 'Old Blue' from Uncle Ken, a 1966 F-250 Camper Special with what seems to be only minor changes from original. The kids and I had attended Petaluma's American Graffiti celebration earlier in the year (something about George Lucas having filmed part of the movie in our town) and were taken by the old metal cars that were on display.

Grace in front of an old Hot Pink Studebaker. 

Cricket liked the Cadillacs

and of course who loves RED !!!

We started dreaming about finding something we could drive around town that was a little more aligned to the local zeitgeist .. some kind of auto that has seen the old days, but the prices of running vintage was pretty high and so we thought - someday ... 

 

Two weeks later I received a call from Uncle Ken and he said he was moving into a smaller house and did the kids and I want to take care of the first 'new' car he ever bought. He had taken care of her for the last 47 years having purchased her 'almost' new way back in 1966 from a lady in Sacramento whose husband had ordered the big truck and upon delivery promptly died of a heart attack. Uncle Ken bought her much to the chagrin of his father (a Chevy Man!) and she came with a Travel Queen camper on her back which for many years served as home away from home for Uncle Ken and his new wife and was even home for me way back in University days when I spent a summer at their house and used her as a man cave pad for a few months.

She came on Friday July 12th, 2013, delivered by a man who had driven her 2,000 miles from Des Moines to Petaluma on the back of his Auto Carrier.

I remember her in earlier years and this made me think I do not want to change anything about her - just keep her running and as close to the way Uncle Ken used her for the first 47 years. Maybe someday I can add an appropriate for the time vintage camper or shell for Old Blue (she was originally sold with a long gone Travel Queen sitting on back) but one step at a time - for now I am just getting used to the drum brakes and the 'growl' of her 352 as I pull away from stop signs.

I must admit there is something about this heavy metal beast that touches a place deep in my heart; perhaps a testament to earlier times and simple, functional design; perhaps my childhood memories of fishing/hunting trips with the elders in the family and the trucks they drove; or maybe I just feel a desire to steward the oversight and care of this fine vehicle for the next few years.