A Tribute to the Ford Escort (Sport)

Six and a half years we spent together, traveling around 35,000 miles. I had my first kiss in that car. The furthest north we went was Vancouver, east was Yakima, west was Ocean Shores, south was Eugene.

Besides the typical intangibles that cannot be replaced, this car had one mechanical problem ever: a dead battery. It turned on a dime, fit into any parking place, and sported a cool spoiler if only to help you open the trunk.

And oh, the trunk. Whatever you needed, the trunk had. Except maybe space. But it found a way to get you and all your crazy belongings where it needed to be. It was always a great host.

During its life, the car I secretly called Brego (so named for Aragorn's horse, who was also on its second owner and extremely reliable) sported all sorts of crud and squirrel droppings on top of the various stickers that pledged my allegiance to nearly every Seattle sports team, as well as my school(s), the Vancouver 2010 Olympic bid, the Simpsons, and Barack Obama. But when it was washed, that bright red finished just begged for a ticket (it only ever got one). I hate to think that it was towed twice.

I found it at an auto show up at Northgate mall. The steering wheel was wrapped with black leather to make it extra thick and maneuverable, it rumbled with what I assumed was front-wheel drive, and it secretly housed a 6-CD changer in the trunk that our salesman, Johnny Utah, did not know about.

On its last day, Election Day 2008, some unforgivably stupid shithead backed into my brother, who had taken the car for his first trip to the voting booth. The other driver, in some nice SUV, was attempting to back into an intersection to avoid the traffic he had just turned into, and found himself riding up onto and through the hood of a perfectly stationary Escort. Just like that. Damages are greater than "the Man's" perceived value. The end.

There's nothing fair about it.

So it is with a heavy heart that I must go tomorrow morning and gather my belongings from inside, then send it away forever.

Thanks for all of the adventures, old frend. Mellanin, Brego.

The Escort
2002-2008