On Halloween 2012, I lost something very dear to me…my car.
You can roll your eyes; you can brush it off but let me explain something to
you: that car has been with me longer than my husband, and it’s taken me
everywhere I’ve ever lived!
In 2000 my dad had to get a new car for us. After he and my
mom split up he picked his own car out. He really wanted a Toyota Prius, but if
you think those babies are expensive now, imagine 12 years ago! The Toyota Echo
was a new model they’d released that boasted 35 miles per gallon. He chose a
four door forest green version and this new car sported the first I’d ever seen
in the “middle dashboard” style interior. No more odometer and gauges through
the steering wheel; they slapped that sucker in the middle and tilted it to the
left. It was almost like a little alien car!
My dad bought her in Lancaster, Pennsylvania at Lancaster Toyota.
Let me explain something about my awesome dad, he hated most new technology
with the exception of musical equipment. He wanted a CD player and a tape deck,
but no power windows and no air conditioning. The air conditioning wasn’t a
choice: he had to have it, but the windows you had to roll down. Nothing too
fancy in the new car!
When he and my mom split up we left Lancaster. I left for Delray Beach, Florida to try and
live with mom my junior year of high school and my dad headed out to Oregon
after purchasing 40-some acres of isolated woodland property. He took the Echo
with him.
When my life with mom went to shit, my dad drove the Echo
from Eugene, Oregon all the way to Delray Beach Florida to pick me and my
possessions up and take me back to Oregon. That Toyota Echo towed a trailer
with my bed, my furniture and all my other stuff I deemed important. Under
complete protest he dragged me to the west coast in June. The car was so
overworked the check-engine light came on before we even got out of Florida. We
couldn’t tow my crap with the air conditioning on or she’d overheat. So we
rolled down the windows, sweat profusely and had a lot of ice to munch on. We
had to crawl up the mountain ranges. And eventually she got us to Eugene
safely.
For my senior year I shared that car with my dad. Occasionally
he’d allow me out on the town with that car, and so began the legend of Enid
the Echo. By 2003 she was still relatively new. My dad kept her in pristine
condition. I helped wear her in.
Much like the Queen classic, I’ll admit, “I’m in love with
my car.” I snuck cigarettes in that car. I went on drives to nowhere and
everywhere. It took me to concerts, to work, to school, to events, to new
apartments, to visit friends and boyfriends, and to visit family. That car took
me practically everywhere I’ve ever been.
Enid the Echo didn’t officially become mine until my dad
bought his truck. After she was paid off, he needed an all terrain vehicle to
help him get further into his rustic property and Enid just wasn’t that kind of
car. She could hit the Oregon coast highways and curvy roads like no other, but
she wasn’t a rough and tumble kind of car.
When she became mine I’d just started my punk rock princess
phase, so I immediately outfitted her properly with bumper stickers, cartoon
air fresheners, interior stickers and stuff. My car became local legend.
Everyone knew the bumper sticker car.
Anyone who knows me, even remotely well, knows me with that
car. That car took me to meet my old best friend for the first time, and
without that trip I would have never met my husband. That car took me to and
from the nannying job that changed my life. Enid drove me to and from Lane
Community College so I could get my Associates Degree. My car took me to
University of Oregon every day to get my Bachelor of Arts.
My horrible ex almost stole my Echo and when I drove three
hours to retrieve her, I then drove home in her alone crying, listening to
Modest Mouse and she rocked out with me. That car took me to so many concerts
and then was festooned with souvenirs from those epic adventures.
Enid the Echo took my husband and I on our first date. He
wanted to drive because his car was filthy and didn’t have a reliable heater.
That car drove half of my husband’s band on their one and only multi-state
tour. That car took my husband and I on our first anniversary when we were
still dating. She took the little ones I babysat to feed the ducks and one day
when I gave her stickers, she decorated the passenger, back sear window. Dora
the Explorer was all over, and I never took it down.
I got my first and only two speeding tickets in that car.
That car had more memories and stories than most and anyone who ever knew me,
even just a little bit, probably rode in it. That car was a part of me, and she
was tough to let go.
I’ll tell you one story about Enid the Echo. It sounds like
something out of a movie, but I swear this is true: Back in High School I went
through a classic music phase. My friend and I were obsessed with Led Zeppelin,
Elton John, The Who, Cat Stevens, The Doors, The Grateful Dead, etc. My friend
and I got the Echo and went on one of our afternoon drives. It was just after
we graduated high school and we were rocking out some “Tiny Dancer.” We had the
windows down and the music up. We were on a quiet but main road in Eugene at a
stop light singing, and we look over and on the front lawn there are three
hippies playing hackey sack and they join in with us and we’re all singing “Hold
me closer, Tiny Dancer!” And we all knew all the words.
Enid the Echo was there for me in all other changes. When we
moved, when I broke up with my exes, fought with friends, needed to run away,
needed to get from job to job, she was there. She was my constant in a world of
chaos and change. She was my first and only car up until recently.
She took my old best friend to say goodbye to his
grandparents when they passed because he didn’t have a car. She took me to and
from the airport to fly to see my grandparents for the last time and to say
goodbye. She took me to and from the airport so I could see the world and study
for three months in London. She took me to and from my in-laws houses. She was
my wingman!
The night my husband and I got married, we packed her to
move to Florida and left her in front of my Aunt’s house. Someone broke her
window and stole a bunch of our stuff. We took that car, on a trailer across
the country again on our honeymoon moving adventure, with a busted window. We
duct taped a Forever 21 bag on her and it didn’t budge in the scariest storm we’d
ever seen. There were still marks form the duct tape on her when we said
goodbye. She took us around San Francisco and even down Lombard Street. She
took us all over Memphis and New Orleans. She took us to Tampa. She’s always brought
us home.
Enid the Echo had 253,000 miles on her! She still got 29
miles per gallon! She lived in Tampa for three years with no tinted windows and
unreliable air conditioning. We had a scare with her last year but because she’s
a rock star she cost us very minimal amounts to maintain and I swore I’d drive
that car until she just didn’t drive anymore. But sometimes life has other plans.
When we found out I was pregnant in May, we’d already been
discussing, getting a newer car. We’d decided on Toyota or Subaru because my
husband and I had seen great longevity with both. Finally I won out on trading
the Toyota in for another Toyota and I had my heart set on a Yaris or Matrix.
Every time I wanted to test drive new ones, my husband came up with something
else we needed to do.
Finally, about 5 months into my pregnancy we realized that
with my not working for three months, having a new car payment and insurance
wasn’t exactly a smart plan. We also realized we’d have no down payment. We
thought we’d just keep Enid for one more year and then turn her in next summer.
In the midst of all this we had some other unexpected
expenses come up, as they do in life. We were desperately trying to bounce back
when my husband told me Enid really needed new brakes, which we’d put off long
enough. We took her in and it cost twice what we’d estimated.
It was around this time and opportunity came up. Our best
friends had just been given a brand new car and were getting rid of their old
Pontiac Grand AM. They’d planned to just take it to Carmax but they offered it
to us for a very fair price. Up until we took Enid in for the brakes, we’d
toyed with the idea of having both cars. But when they came out to quote us on
brakes they came out with a laundry list of other issues totaling over $2000.
This was it. She was a goner.
We looked at her bluebook and even with a few dings and a
LOT of bumper stickers she was worth about $1400. We took her to Carmax and
they offered 500$. That was a slap in the face. I started to mentally let her
go but to be honest, I just wanted it to be done. I couldn’t handle it.
Being pregnant and getting rid of my car was intense. I realized
she was the first car our fuzzy pup, Brodie had ever been in. He loved to go on
car rides and he knew which car was ours. I realized that someone else was
going to take her away because we needed to put her on Craigslist to get a fair
price.
Even though our amazing friends gave us the Pontiac, it took
us a few days to sell Enid. It was very stressful for me because I wanted it to
be over with. I’d told so many people I had to let her go but the whole letting
go thing was not easy. I spent as much time with her as I could before we
showed her to a buyer. I had this sneaking suspicion that she would just sell.
That someone would see her and just say yes and that would be it.
My husband is a saint because he knew this whole thing would
suck so much for me. I would never ever recommend selling a car you are
attached to while pregnant. It’s unfair on every level. I’d already taken
almost everything out of her and she looked barren and sad. But on Halloween my
husband had a buyer. He took them on a test drive. He let me stay in the
apartment and I just cleaned up a storm to distract myself.
He came to get me. He told me the offer and he said we
should take it. I agreed. I asked if I could keep my key and he said no, we
needed to give them both. I went to change and get the title and I started to
well up. I felt the tears bubbling inside me. I went downstairs and met them.
They had heavy accents. I have no idea where they were from. They gave my husband
the money and I had to sign over the title.
As I was signing I had that moment. That moment out of “The
Goonies” where you’re about to sign something and you hesitate and double check
what it is you’re signing, while someone is leering over you to make sure it
happens. I signed and we were going to have to give them the keys. The buyer
said “Is that the only key?” My husband looked at me, and then him, and said,
yes, just that one.”
We shook hands and they left. I saw them pull out and I lost
it. I couldn’t watch her drive away from me. I bolted up to the apartment and
just started to ball. My husband handed me my key, and said, “Here, she’ll
always be yours.” I looked up at him red-faced and cried, “This really sucks!”
He told me he knew and he’d miss her too.
It was the end of an era; the end of Enid. Everyone put the
realistic and positive spin on it for me but I still needed a good cry. I know
that the Pontiac was a better family car. It had more room, 150,000 less miles
than Enid and was a better investment for the next year. It was definitely
better to get rid of Enid while we could before she really broke down. And our
friends saved us from having something seriously complicated happen and helped
keep it simple and on our own terms.
BUT, it sucks saying goodbye. I miss her; a lot! And like I
said, you can make fun of me as much as you want but when you have a car with
that much history, that many memories and that many miles, it’s bound to stir
up some emotions…especially when you’re nearly 7 months pregnant.
So goodbye Enid! I’m so sorry we had to let you go after
taking such good care of all of us for 12 years but you’ll always be a rock
star and I could never watch you really die. Thanks for being the best car ever!
YOU WILL BE MISSED AND REMINISCED! ALWAYS!
