I've got a little story for you Ags.

My grandad, class of '55, was a good man. He was a farmer, served in the US army, a believer, and a supporter of his small town community. I grew up on the family farm that he led and watched him love his family with tremendous work ethic. He passed away in 2017.

My family was big supporters of the Window on the Plains Museum/Art Center in the local panhandle town in Moore County that I grew up in. My grandmother was an artist and led the art center, and he regularly volunteered at the museum. Over the years I've seen this museum grow into something really nice for that town, and several tractors and exhibits were part of our family's farming history. I haven't been in years, but I decided to take my kids for a day trip, and they had a new barn in the back of the property that they actually named after him. I didn't know that our family donated his truck, and it was almost an overwhelming surprise to round the corner and see it parked there.



It's nothing special, just an '87 GMC half-ton. But drove it for 30 years until his death. Hell, the paint on the door was worn down to the metal where he used to hang his arm out the window. When no-one was looking, I opened the door and just the smell made so many memories come flooding back. They even kept all the stuff in the bed just like he had it (buckets, shovels, baling wire, etc). It was like being teleported back in time.

There's a great story posted on the windshield. One day, he was out working on a center pivot irrigation sprinkler, and he parked his truck and was walking down the sprinkler, trying to find an issue. He got about a quarter mile away, found and fixed the issue, and then started walking back to his pickup. What he forgot about was that he parked directed in the path of one of the towers, and so he got to slowly watch it mount itself on top of the hood of his truck. He refused to believe in carrying a cell phone and was in his 70's, so he couldn't do much about it from so far away.

We've laughed about that story for years. But he fixed that truck and continued driving it. He didn't want a new one because they "were just too hard to get into". It really made my day to see this thing, remember "Grumps" for who he was, the tremendous legacy he left, and just take a moment to cherish the time we did have together.

I hope this is a story that makes you smile and maybe some others will share similar stories and photos of vehicles that do the same for them.

Made my day! Incredible story, glad that you had that experience and took the time to share it. Good bull.

That's awesome! Beautiful square body as well. My grandpa had a similar era two-tone Dodge Ram (red with white stripe). It had one of the spring loaded cowboy hat holders in the headliner. That was the pre-mightcatchfireatanymoment era and that thing was built like a tank.

Awesome truck and memory. Thanks for posting as it brings back memories for me also. My Dad, class of '57, had a similar looking Chevy in that same color dark solid brown. I think it was an 80 model. I remember many hunting trips in that truck with my Dad and Grandad, '34 with me riding in the middle. Great times and I wish we had kept that truck as it was his last.

My granddad bought a brand new '87 Silverado, only new full-size truck he ever owned. Only had 17K miles on it when he passed in '94. I drove that truck all 4 years at A&M, and his spirit was with me during that time. Some low-life scumbag stole it from in front of my house in Dallas. Still miss him and that truck.

Awesome memory Ben. I can hear the exact sound of that door opening and shutting.

I have a '67 GTO. I believe I've shared the story on here before. It's not a legacy car but I was at a car show in Galveston and was hanging out by it when I notice a large family walking up the row of cars toward me. Grandma, her adult kids and their spouses and grandchildren.

Anyway Grandma was holding back and away, walking slowly behind everyone as her grandkids were darting amongst the cars. She wasn't showing much interest but the grandkids would see a car and then some would run back to her excitedly and then back. She saw my black GTO and strolled intently straight for me. None of her crew noticed. She asked me what year and I said 67. She nodded and then asked if she could sit in it. Of course! So I opened the door and helped her sit behind the wheel.

By this time several grandkids noticed she was no longer trailing and looked around and saw her in the GOAT. They excitedly ran up to see what had finally caught their grandma's attention. Her adult kids walked up as well a look of intrigue and surprise.

We were making small talk and her grandkids were peppering her with questions. Why do you like this car? Did you have one? Etc. She wasn't answering them just holding the wheel, lost in thought. Her kids were shaking their heads and asking me what kind of car, what year, etc. Finally one grandkid asked "Nana, did you use to ride in one of these?" And she nodded and said Yes I did.

Then her son asked "Mom, does sitting in that car bring back memories?" This little old grandma turned to him, pointer back over her right shoulder, smiled and said "my memories come from all the time I spent back there."

The absolute horror on his face and the look of newly found respect on the daughter-in-laws. I think one of the older grandkids started making vomit noises.

This was my Dad's "Home Depot" truck. Literally driven by a little old man on Sundays (or Saturdays). It's a 1997 Ford Ranger XLT "Super Cab" V6 with tow package. It has about 42K miles on it now. Had about 24K on it when it became mine in 2012.

I don't have a cool story about it, other than my Dad was/is my hero. The person I wanted to be most like. He served his Nation for 30 years from 1943-1973 and his wife and children much longer. He died in 2012 while I was on my last deployment. I hadn't seen him for 6 months. I didn't make it back in time. At least my final memories of him are as a living, loving and happy Father.

I have kept this truck as he kept it (except for the FSA sticker and a set of wings sticker). Have repaired or replaced anything needed with original OEM stuff. It's my "Lowes" truck and a little old man still drives it on Sundays (or Saturdays). It still has my Father's smell in it (or that may just be my mind being wishful). I brings good memories back each and every time I drive it.

There's something so real about hearing that door open, or smelling the interior, or feeling the steering wheel for the first time in years that pulls at something in your brain.

It's like he was right there with me for just a moment. I don't think my kids understood, but dang allergies. Such a great surprise. He never suffered, so I was always at peace with him passing away and not having a chance to say goodbye, but that was a nice moment of closure I didn't even know I needed.

Some cool ones here!

He is sitting on his great grandad's tractor. He never met Alvin, but his grandpa and great uncles learned to drive on that tractor. They had a family reunion this summer and we brought the tractor. It was the first time they had seen the ole girl in 35 years. It brought back a lot of memories.

This thread reminded me of a memory I literally just thought about the other day.

My grandfather when I was a kid got a brand new z71 and man he was proud of that truck. For any of you used to this interior, you'll know the ac controls have these little dashes that you manually adjust the temperature. I remember as a kid him telling me "watch the little ladies legs walk across as we turn on the heat" and I'd laugh every single time.

67, Pony interior, 4 speed toploader, cammed 289. Bought it out of a pasture and restored it with my dad.

DavisGary88 said:

---

Who is your grandmother? My mother was a part of the early days of the art center and her close friends were artists.

---

I have no doubt they knew each other, then. Carolyn S. was my grandmother. She was involved since long before they moved from 1st street. She's been gone close to a decade now.

Here's one of hers that hangs up in my office. This is a reprint, but the original is a watercolor.

Yep. We were out at the farm a few times. My mother was good friends with your grandmother. My siblings and I each got a couple of your grandmother's paintings when mom passed. Kurt was a couple of years older than me. I had no idea Eddie's truck was in the museum. Pretty cool.