zed wrote:When the Patrol was offered for sale the previous owner had passed away 5 months earlier from the effects of ALS. He suffered from ALS for over 25 years. When his symptoms affected his ability to drive, his parents locked the Patrol away in a barn.... 20+ years later, his parents had to reregister the Patrol and pay all the back fees. After paying the fees, the price of they offered Patrol was not much more than the total fees. They agreed to sell me the Patrol, sight unseen, with the understanding that I would get it operational. I talk to his mother from time to time, sending her photos. I am trying to be respectful to owner's memory. (He served in Vietnam, and was stationed stateside in Oklahoma.)
Keith, your story really hit home with me -- I have a similar one (sorry for the thread jack):
In 1990, I was a 21 year old kid looking for what (at the time) was my dream vehicle- a 69-72 Chevy Blazer. I had scrounged together 5000 bucks, and searched all over Arizona for months looking for the Blazer I wanted. While on a camping trip with a couple friends, we were driving through Payson ( a small town up in the mountains northeast of Phx). We passed a small house with the garage open, and I saw that familiar blue bowtie emblem on the grill of a 69-72 chevy truck. So we stopped, turned around, and went back to take a look. The old guy was out doing yardwork, so I walked up, introduced myself, and asked if I could take a look at the truck. After giving me the same suspicious look that most 60-something men give to strange 21 year olds who approach them out of the blue , he walked me over to the garage. That's when I saw that it was a Blazer. It had been sitting for a long time, had 4 flats, was covered with dust, boxes, and junk, but was otherwise all there.
We talked for about an hour about the truck (while my friends impatiently waited for their weekend camping trip to resume)
The old guy told me the story about how the Blazer was his sons, who had bought it right after coming home from Vietnam. He drove it for about 10 years, before dying of Hodgekin's disease (the Dad figured it was from Agent-Orange exposure). After the son's death, the Blazer sat in their garage for nearly 10 more years, right up to that day.
Sensing the connection that the truck symbolized with their son, I reluctantly (and as tactfully as possible) told the man that I was looking for an old blazer exactly like this one, and I left my number with him and told him I had 5000 and that if he would consider it, then I would love to get that old truck cleaned up and back on the road. He said his wife would probably not go for it, but he agreed to take my number down and hang onto it.
About a week later I got a call from a woman who said she was the man's wife- She asked if I was still interested in the Blazer, and told me they would take my 5000 offer on one condition- I would have to drive the truck back up to Payson and take her for a ride in the woods, once I got it running again.
So, I borrowed my step-dad's truck, hooked up the trailer, and my friends and I went back up to Payson to dig the Blazer out of their garage. (See- road trips with the flatbed trailer are not just a recent, Patrol related tradition for me- I've been doing it for 25 years
)
The old lady was in tears as we drove away that day.
Getting home, I was amazed at what I had -- under all that dust, the truck was nearly untouched- the upholstery was still soft and un-torn, the Odo showed 51,000 miles, and the paint had not a scratch on it. I spent a week cleaning it up, and another week cleaning out the fuel tank, flushing and replacing all the fluids and belts/hoses, etc. After finally dropping a battery in it, I held my breath and cranked it for the first time in 10 years - it fired immediatley, and after smoking for about a minute or so, it was running well enough for me to adjust the dwell, timing, and the carb.
So, true to my word, after putting a set of used tires on it (all I could afford, after blowing two paychecks on the gas to bring it home, and all the maintenance parts and fluids) I called the old couple back and told them I wanted to come and visit them the following Saturday.
I drove up there, took them both for a 30 minute ride in the mountains, and explained to them what it meant to me for their late son to give me my dream vehicle...
I don't remember their full names (They were just Mr. and Mrs. Hendricks) ... and I never saw them again after that day. Ah, but that Blazer.... that Blue, pristine, 72 blazer with the black interior, the 350 V8, and the factory A/C. - I drove that truck all over the western US - It was with me the summer I spent in Colorado working on the road surveying crew in Glenwood Springs. It took me on numerous fly fishing trips to Lees Ferry, the San Juan in New Mexico, and all over Colorado.
Unfortunately, I had to sell it in 1997 to raise some cash while I was back in school getting my Engineering degree.
I've owned dozens of vehicles in my life- several of which people would drool over; but to this day, I still personally love this truck more than any vehicle I've owned before, or since... That's the power and significance of memories... I barely made enough money to afford the gas this thing burned, and I recall many nights lying beneath it with tools and the shop light, pulling an all-nighter hoping I'd have it running again in time to get me to work the next morning. This Blazer was the vehicle I owned when I met my wife, and even though her greatest association with my automotive neurosis can be best described as "patient tolerance", even
she occasionally says "I wish you had never had to sell your Blazer..."
How cool it is, for you to be honoring the memories of your Patrol's former owner with the immaculate attention you are giving it... My hat's off to you, Sir
