The blue 82 Ford Escort was my next car. It was about 20+ years when it came into my hands. It had gone through a lot of amateur mechanics and sound system technicians. When you opened the door the wires and cables were everywhere. They looked like black spaghetti, tangled and twisted. It looped and hung in bunches, like garland on a Christmas tree.
I drove it back and forth to school. The fan kept running for a short time after the key was disengaged. Many people would come find me to tell me they thought my car was running. I explained often that I had removed the key and it would shut off soon.
One of my neighbors had his car in the shop and needed a temporary one to drive. I lent him the Escort. He still laughs about that week. He asked me if I knew where all the wires went. I told him not really.
Sometimes I wish those old cars could talk. What stories they would tell. I'm sure that Escort had a whole collection of stories of it's own to tell. Sadly they were ones I never knew.
I eventually gave the car to Dan's son. He promptly sold it to his aunt.
I drove it back and forth to school. The fan kept running for a short time after the key was disengaged. Many people would come find me to tell me they thought my car was running. I explained often that I had removed the key and it would shut off soon.
One of my neighbors had his car in the shop and needed a temporary one to drive. I lent him the Escort. He still laughs about that week. He asked me if I knew where all the wires went. I told him not really.
Sometimes I wish those old cars could talk. What stories they would tell. I'm sure that Escort had a whole collection of stories of it's own to tell. Sadly they were ones I never knew.
I eventually gave the car to Dan's son. He promptly sold it to his aunt.
