The Danger Ranger My 1987 red Ford Ranger, 4x4, wasn’t much to look at with her dents and dings, but she was all mine and my pride and joy. We went through even more of those bumps together: one in the school parking lot, another in my work parking lot. Her gas mileage wasn’t much to speak of, and we had a case of oil in the tool box at all times right beside the roll of duct tape. But when you’re 16, it’s getting where you need to go that’s important. Sometimes we would make it, and other times we would have to call for help. I still look back at those times with a smile. I remember having my prom picture taken with her and learning to “do a donut” in the fields with my Dad (until the steam rolled out from under the hood). I’d take a break and clean her up, then we would be ready to let the good times roll again. Then one day someone ran a stop sign, and we had to pick her up in pieces. That’s the night the “Danger Ranger” died. But I hold dear these memories of my favorite truck and my 16th year. Stephanie Lewis |
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