Bye Bye Bandit

A month ago we said goodbye to a very special piece of Smith family history. We traded in Josh's 1997 Dodge pick up, otherwise known as "The Black Bandit" for a newer model Suburban.

When Josh and I first started dating, he wasn't driving the bandit yet. He was in a hunter green and tan Z71. By a stroke of luck, someone from my dorm backed into his truck, forcing him to send it back to west Texas for repairs. In its place, Josh's dad let him have a lender, one of his farm trucks. That truck, affectionately dubbed the "Black Bandit", was one of the most beautiful trucks I had ever seen. I am not a car person. I don't really care what I drive or how ugly it is as long as it runs well and doesn't make attention drawing noises. Surprisingly, this truck got my attention! It was black with tan leather interior. My reaction to the truck was one of awe. I commented to Josh about how pretty the truck was, and how I liked sitting so high up from the road. I'm sure I told him how beautiful the truck was and how I had never really ridden in a truck before.

I don't know exactly what happened, but before I knew it, Josh's dad told him that he could have the black bandit if he wanted it. I think, if I remember correctly, Josh's dad gave him a choice of either a 1998 brown Dodge Ram or the 1997 black Dodge Ram. Josh let me choose. I chose black. :)

Many special things happened in that truck. Josh and I were sitting in the bed of the black bandit when he kissed me for the first time. He proposed to me in the Black bandit. The black bandit carried us away from our wedding reception and safely carried Mary Alice and Major home from the hospital. (It would have carried Milla home too, but, by this point, our family was too large to all fit safely and still carry a newborn.)

I wanted to keep the Black bandit forever, just because. Slowly, the Bandit's poor old body began to break down. We were to the point where we were having to take it to the shop every couple of months or so for some minor problem. With over 214,000 miles under it's hood, the day came to say goodbye to the black bandit.

I knew it was time when Josh told me he didn't want me driving the bandit any more, for safety reasons. He mentioned something about having to perform special tricks or something along those lines to keep the truck from "flying through intersections". Um...WHAT?!? And did Josh think that I wanted my sweet husband behind that wheel? NO way!

In addition to the bandit's failing performance, there was also the issue of the suburban I was currently driving. It's air conditioning hadn't worked well for several years. It had been rear ended, struck by lightning, broken into, clipped by the side of the garage (won't say who the genius was who did that), and just had many cosmetic issues and quirks. Last year, I gave a ride to an elementary school boy. When I dropped him off, he said, "Man, your car is pretty junky." Then, several months ago, Josh and I were eating at a restaurant with Josh's parents. When we went outside to our car, another family was also getting into their car. Their son took one look at our Suburban and, comparing it with his own family's vehicle, loudly remarked, "Hey, We got a betta van!" So, all that to say, it was definitely time for a change.

It was time to do it. We had to let him go. It wasn't without tears (at least by me). The truck that had been beside us through almost all of our time together had to go it's own way to make room for something more reliable for our family.

We are now the proud owners of a four year old Suburban. The air conditioning works well. The leather on the interior is smooth and nearly new. The exterior paint isn't faded. Things aren't broken from years of use. I'm loving it! That black bandit will always hold a special place in my heart, though. Sometimes Josh and I jokingly repeat the words of the kid at Cheddar's. "Bye bye bandit. We got a betta van!"