Saying goodbye to the Wee Beastie
Today we said a sad goodbye to the greatest of all vehicles, a 1991 Ford Explorer: the Wee Beastie.
Even after more than 100,000 miles, the Beastie never complained, always performed, and even once saved my life, hurtling down I-93 to get Lindsay to Somerville and me, soon there after, to a good hospital.
It was the car my wife learned to drive on. She and her sister both drove it during college. It drove on the beaches of East Hampton and in the snowdrifts of Cambridge and, countless times, along the roads between us and our families.
Two weeks ago, though, after one of those trips visiting family, the Beastie had some trouble. Our mechanic, who loved the Beastie nearly as much as we did, told us what it would take to make it better…and then we knew. It was time, after nineteen years in Lindsay’s family, to part with it.
So today the American Cancer Society “Cars for Cures” program arranged for a truck to come by and accept our donation of one 1991 Ford Explorer. I watched the driver load up the Beastie along with other donated cars…
…and I watched the Beastie go:
We love you, Beastie.
