When I was 16 or so, my dad got me a really nice Escort. I used to love driving that car, the interior still smelled new, it had a cassette player, all the bells and whistles for a car of that time period. I don't know what happened or how things transpired and at this point in my life they really do not matter, but the car was taken away from me. I probably wasn't paying the insurance on it or something. Who knows...........My dad gave me another car. Bessie. Bessie was the ugliest, grungiest, most horrible car I had ever owned in my whole entire life. The pic above does not do Bessie justice. Being sad and embarassed with Bessie at the time, I never truly noticed how much happiness and joy she brought me. Bessie was a very old, root beer/ diarrhea colored Chevette. GASP!!! That's almost worse than a Pinto.
Okay harmless enough, I was 18, had a baby, was in Cosmetology school. Who needed a nice car? Right?
At first the car ran, it only played static on the radio and it wouldn't turn off. You had to listen to static.........No antenna.......I was embarrassed driving it at that point. Owoooooo! Something happened, not sure exactly what but the windshield wipers turned on and ran continuously. back forth back forth. Raining or not, back forth, back forth. Okay, so still a little embarrassed, driving ugly car, static playing, windshield wipers going back forth, back forth. No problem right?
Brett was still alive at this point and where he had to have his thigh bone removed because of the cancer (had bone replacement), he could not bend his leg. This means that in order to get into the car he had to lift himself up on the door and kind of hop in. All the wear and tear on the door was too much for old Bessie and then the door wouldn't latch properly. What's this?? What does that mean? If I turned too far to the right, the door would fly open. Owoooo!! Okay, that's funny. Still embarrassed. You think it's bad so far, just wait.........One day I was driving along, I needed some gas. Oh what's this, gas station on the left. I turn and what's this??? The horn started malfunctioning. How you ask? Well lets just say, when I turned too far to the left, the horn would turn on and not turn off til the car was turned off.....So here I was driving down the road, windshield wipers on, static on, ugly car and horn blasting. My mom would always say she knew when I was coming cause she could hear the horn. I had to make a left hand turn to get on our street. Kentucky people at their finest!!
At Cosmetology school, the girls there totally rocked and always teased me about hearing me coming and my windshield wipers. It didn't bother me when they teased me at all because, its pretty funny. One day, I'm turning left on a sunny day, windshield wipers on, horn going and they are lined up out front of the school waiting for me. I'm thinking Oh God! What are they going to do? They run over to my car as I'm pulling in, like a pit crew, towels in hand like they are wiping it off, Susan had the door opening and closing it til it latched. I was laughing so hard, I was almost crying. Diana had a radio and brought it out. They were not making fun of me at all..........Brett was probably 2 or 3 days away from dying, I wasn't going to come in and they called me constantly telling me to come in. 50 girls cared that much about me, to bring me in, in my Hoopty. After I stopped laughing, I got out and each one of them came over one by one and hugged me. We all went from laughing to crying. But for those 20 minutes, I wasn't picturing my boyfriend laying in bed dying. This car I hated so much, served its purpose. It brought me laughter and smiles and showed me I was cared about.
Time rolls on...
Brett had passed away.........some 5 mos later, I still had my hoopty. Horn still on, static still playing, windshield wipers blew a fuse and were no longer on. One day it started raining and I couldn't see. So what did I have to do????????? I had to roll down my window and manually move them back and forth so I could get the rest of the way home. In a Chevette, that can be done. So fuse replaced, blah, blah, blah..........wipers back on (better to have them, than not) New problem arises in the Chevette, the carburetor malfunctions............So how is this fixed????? My dad showed me a neat trick to opening the hood, unscrewing the lid off and putting a pencil jammed in there to hold it open while you go and start it!! YAY!!! Okay, so I get asked on a date by a guy in Ft. Knox. He has no car, OF COURSE HE HAS NO CAR!!!!!!!!!!! So I have to drive this thing down there to Ft. Knox, hot soldier guys all over. Oh geez. I pull up at the barracks, Rich knew the problem already and was waiting outside with all his buddies. My face was beet red. Yikes!
I pull up laughing, I mean really what else can you do but laugh at that point? His buddies come over, tell me to get out of the car. Rich and his buddies are all tank mechanics. Instead of going on a date, he told me he was going to see if he could get my car somewhat fixed. Was a very sweet gesture. So 6 army guys are out there taking my car apart and trying to fix it. They ask me to get in it........ So I do.... what do they do???? They pick up the car with me in it and start walking to the dumpster with it. A guy named Tom came over to the window with some slip of paper and said "Ma'am I hate to tell you this but your car is royally F**&^*^" I just sat there rolling. He said he had never seen anything like it. So they gave me an official army pencil, put it in my sun visor.........We opened the hood, penciled the carburetor, got in, made the horn go on purpose, windshield wipers on, Rich hanging onto the door and went and rode up and down Dixie Hwy hooping it up!! I had 2 guys in the hatchback with it open! We went and got some beer.....went back to their barracks and laughed about my car til wee hours in the night.
The day the hoopty died..........Not sure what happened, but the hoopty finally died. Mom and I lived in the house on Mckinley with the big hill driveway............It was parked at an angle when it died, momma wanted it pushed up to the top of the hill. How do we do this???? We push it!! Anthony was only 1 and in the house. She gets the bright idea that he can not be left alone in the house. He would be safer in the car. Good call MOM!!!! So wee little Anthony in the car, 2 weak women trying to push this car up the hill..........what happens????? The car goes rolling down the hill, Anthony inside. My mother freezes in fear and I take off running down the hill and catch the car and save the day! She froze in panic, I reacted. LOL, she freaked out!!!!
The car died and I moved on to a Bitchin Camaro.................But today I'm thankful for the hoopty. It truly was a good time in my life. I missed her after she died.
RIP Bessie.............
