I Got My Truck Back

august 8, 2002 is a date that will live in my mind for a long time. just before midnight a neighbor of mine came to my door, woke me up, and told me that my 1992 chevy truck had just been stolen. my first truck, my favorite truck, and a truck i might have been a bit too attached to. i didn't care that it was ten years old and it had over 160k miles on it. i kept it in immaculate condition. it was my baby. i made my final loan payment on it in may of 2002, and i spent $1500 dollars the week before it was stolen on new tires and a whole new break system. my plan was to keep this truck for a long time, but in an instant all that changed. my truck was found 28 days after it was stolen. a sheriff in gun barrel city, tx found it on a back country road. well, what was left of it. all he found was a frame and an empty cab on blocks.

i replaced my stolen truck with a 1999 chevy truck. it was nice, but it came with new monthly payment and it just didn't feel right. after owning it just over a year it needed a $1000 repair. instead of financing the repair i decided to finance a new truck. so i bought a 2003 gmc truck.

this was a very nice truck. it had a smooth ride and extra features such as duel climate control, but it came with an even bigger monthly commitment. shortly after buying the new truck gas prices shot up from $1.30 per gallon to nearly $2.00. making a tank of gas go from $30 to over $50. six months later, out of necessity, i traded it in for a fuel efficient toyota corolla. i've owned my corolla for over 3 years now. it has been good to me and my pocket book, but it isn't and never will be a car i cherish like i did my first truck.

my grandpa has been sick with parkinson's disease for a couple of years now. last year the doctors told him that he was no longer allowed to drive because they felt his reaction time had become to slow, not to mention he might accidentally jerk the wheel and cause an accident. for nearly a year his truck has sat still under his barn. a few months ago he came to the realization that he really wouldn't be able to drive again and decided he would sell his truck, a 1992 chevy truck that is much like the one that was stolen from me.

i had previously told my dad that if the opportunity came up i would love to buy my grandpa's truck from him, but i couldn't tell my grandpa this because i didn't want him to feel like i was trying to take his freedom away from him. his freedom that i had watch him fight hard to retain. i didn't know my dad had told my grandpa how i felt until my grandpa approached me about it. he said, "i hear someone wants to buy my truck." i nervously responded by saying, "who told you that?" his answer...."a little bird."

at the time i didn't have the money to buy the truck and it would have been a while before i could have saved enough money for it. at the time i would have had to of told him to sell it to someone else because i just didn't have the money. just a few weeks after having that conversation with my grandpa my mom died. which resulted in my getting a few thousand dollars in life insurance money from my step-dad. with that money i paid off my car, gave some money to the church, and a loan to a friend. i was left with not quite enough money to buy the truck, but without a hefty car payment i decided i would take out a small loan and buy the truck from my grandpa. i must say that it feels good to have a 1992 chevy truck again. just sitting in it brings back good memories and a wonderful feeling. it feels like a part of me has come home. if someone came up to me right now and offered to trade a brand new truck for mine i would turn them away. i'm not getting rid of my truck. the truck that replaces my stolen truck that i so cherished; the truck that belonged to my grandpa; the truck that i was only able to buy because of my mom's death. as far as i'm concerned i'll have to die before someone takes this truck from me, legally that is.