The ’53 International

The ’53 International:

This isn't papaw's truck but looks just like it.

This isn’t papaw’s truck but looks just like it.

Back in the day, when my imagination was geared more toward the innocence of a child and the wonderment of all things new, one of my most favorite past times was driving for miles and miles in my grandpa’s 1953 International Pickup.

I’m quite sure I traveled through every state in that old truck, down old back country roads, with my arm hangin’ out the window, wavin’ at everybody I saw, and they was friendly enough to wave right back at me.

As I got a little older and learned of such things, I ran shine in it, burnin’ up these back mountain roads with the law on my tail. I never got caught though, nobody could catch the “Black Bandit.”

It was about this time The Dukes of Hazzard was popular, and of course, I never missed an episode. Needless to say, there were many miles running from Roscoe and Enos, jumping over everything, racing anybody that was willin’ to get a good butt whoopin’. Of course we knew a black International pickup truck looked nothin’ like the General Lee, but that didn’t stop us.

I wish I could count the times I would just go sit in papaw’s truck, for no other reason than to just sit there. I haven’t mentioned this yet, but that old pickup truck hadn’t moved in 15 years or better, all 4 tires were flat and the engine was busted on it, but to me, it was in fine shape.

I wanted that truck so bad when I got older. I begged my uncle to let me have it so I could drop an engine in it and fix it up. I was a teenager when he sold it. I was in school and when I came home, it was gone. Just like that, as if it had never been there.

I stood in the empty spot that for so many years of my life had been occupied by, not only my papaw’s old truck, but my refuge from many a storm, both real and emotional. I stood in that lonely spot, and I cried.

Sit A Spell And Lemme Know What Ya Think

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