It’s been about a year since I finally let Pop’s truck go. It hung around on life support for years and, gratefully, kept the spirit of my dad around since his departure back in 1993. I always felt one of his grand-kids would enjoy it’s use but, frankly, I enjoyed it so long that it became abused and trashed from my less than spectacular maintenance of it’s being! It been places other vehicles would never dare. It’s transmission and engine were rebuilt to lengthen it’s longevity. It was lost and compromised by a drug addicted mechanic and left in a Mantachie field! It’s had glimmering horse sticker’s lovenly attached to it’s windows. It’s been backed into on a couple of occasions by the original owner’s granddaughters. It’s hauled compost, hay, dirt, brush, firewood, leaves and gravel to a variety of destinations. It’s been knocked around while hunting, commuting, school delivery, and transporting kids … and truthfully was hard to let it go. While my kids did not know my father, this old 91′ Dodge Dakota connected them with someone who Bess and I loved just as dearly. I guess that’s the reason it was hung onto for so long well after it’s usefulness.
I am sure the Craigslist purchaser either broke it down for parts or refurbished it for resale. It is but a memory at this point, but will always remain a good one!