Fred and Barney

When I was a little girl, my parents bought a brand new 1977 Ford Courier. It was bright orange, just like a pumpkin. I remember the family going to the car lot to "look" at the trucks and the next thing you know we were driving it home. At that time my entire family could fit in the cab of the truck. Dad drove, Scott sat in the middle, mom was the passenger and I sat on her lap, I was about three at the time. For long trips up to Ogden to visit grandma and grandpa, there was a white shell on the back of the truck and my parents put an old carpet remnant in the back with blankets and such for Scott and I. I fell asleep many a nights in the back of the truck. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure your not allowed to do that with kids anymore.

As we got older (and bigger) the family didn't fit in the cab of the truck so nicely. My dad drove that truck day in and day out for many a years to work to school to numerous scout trips and several family vacations to Texas. In our neighborhood the orange courier with the white shell was synonymous with my dad.

I would almost stake my life on the fact that, that truck had a personality. It loved my dad and would start for him no matter what. But for anyone else it was much more particular and sometimes it wouldn't start at all. It didn't like my mom much and when I got around to driving it didn't like me either. We used to call the truck Fred and Barney, our reasoning was it sometimes felt like you had to peddle your feet to keep it going. Maybe that's why it didn't like me. Who knows?

As the truck got older it began to have some squeaks. . . okay a lot of squeaks, you could hear it coming down the road for blocks and blocks.

The reason I reminisce about Fred and Barney is I love sitting on my front porch in my rocking chairs and feeling the cool spring breezes. As I have been doing this recently there has been a new "older" vehicle in our neighborhood that drives by my house several times a day and if I close my eyes it sounds just like the squeaks Fred and Barney and takes me back to the times I would hear those squeaks coming down the road signaling the anticipated arrival of my dad. How I loved to hear those squeaks.