LilRed89
New Member
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2012
- Messages
- 11
- Reaction score
- 4
- Points
- 3
- Location
- Ohio
- Vehicle Year
- 1989
- Make / Model
- Ford
- Engine Size
- 2.9
- Transmission
- Automatic
Our Ranger Story- One Familys Journey
I remember that Christmas with great clarity. My Father in Law sat us all down and announced to the family that he was in the advanced stages of pancreatic cancer. He knew with no-nonsense surety that this was going to be his last Christmas with us. As the reality settled in he began a week-long discussion of how he wanted his earthly possessions divided up or given away. Dad was an engineer and he put those logic and reasoning skills to direct us with very little emotion.
When he came to the 1989 Ranger he had bought new as a retirement gift to himself, he was quick and to the point. He said to just donate or sell it as it had been sitting in the woods seeing very little use. What was once his pride and joy had fallen on hard times. The death of his first wife, years long battles with various cancers and a second marriage had all conspired to steer his focus away from his once beautiful “little Red Truck” as he liked to call it.
I was still reeling form the news of his impending death, but at that very moment I was seized by a wave of memories. I have been in the automotive business all my life and with my connections, I was who he had turned to all those years ago to help him order his dream truck.
He was a highly successful career man who had risen to the very top of his profession. Being born in the depression he was very conservative and although he could afford any vehicle he wanted he always drove plain four door domestic sedans. Still, he had always harbored a desire to someday own a red pick up truck.
Since he was a graduate of Ohio State he insisted it be ordered in scarlet and grey. He took great pains to study which seating arrangement would best suit his needs and ordered as it turns out one of only five such interiors made that year (so said the Marti Report we received this Summer). It has a 60/40 Vinyl bench, as he hated cloth seats and leather wasnt available. Dad was over six feet and Mom was short so he felt that if she had to take over the driving duties he would be crushed up against the dash. As for buckets well, that was just out of the question, much to flashy for Dad.
He equipped it with every heavy-duty option and a 4:10 Trac Lock rear end as he planned on towing his smaller fishing boat around in his retirement. He paid extra for the 2.9 V6 which the Hagerty price guide now lists as a 10% deduction, go figure. Before taking delivery he had me run it to Ziebart for a full rust proofing, mud flaps and a soft bed cover.
Once he retired to South Carolina the truck was used as a back up to his new Continental and parked it unceremoniously under the trees on his side lot. As I look back, there were many hardware store and bait shop runs with me riding shotgun. It was our “Buddy Time” where we discussed all the worlds problems and solved about half of them.
I asked Dad if he didn’t mind, I might like to keep the truck such as it was. After all it was tightly woven into the fabric of our family’s story. I must say the wisdom of that request was greatly tested on the two day drive back up north with that low rear end. I like to tell my friends that it doesn’t have an accelerator as much as an on/off switch.
Many times people say “that thing rode as rough as a truck” well with the two sizes too small Chinese tires that were on Little Red at the time, I’m here to tell you first hand- there’s some truth to that tale. But make it home it did. Walking around the tired old gal I started thinking maybe I had made a mistake. The many years in the woods had been extremely unkind to her. But as they say nothing that time and lots of money couldn’t fix.
Today I enjoy taking her to local shows and cruise ins, where people are surprised to see a remaining stock 89 Ranger. What I enjoy the most other than the many compliments I have received, are the stories.
I came of age during the late 60s and early 70s, a time when everyone either had or had a friend who had, a VW beetle. We all had hair raising stores of adventure and mischief involving a Beetle.
What I soon discovered is that for the next generation behind me, the Ford Ranger was their “VW Beetle”. The stories tend to come unsolicited and unfiltered as they walk around Little Red. The raw emotions are very real, as this Ranger has impacted our family, so have other Rangers changed the lives of so many others.
As they say “she’s a keeper” one day I hope to pass her on to my Son, so he can carry on weaving the tapestry that is our family’s story and hopefully appreciate how one “Little Red Truck” came to mean so much to us all.
I remember that Christmas with great clarity. My Father in Law sat us all down and announced to the family that he was in the advanced stages of pancreatic cancer. He knew with no-nonsense surety that this was going to be his last Christmas with us. As the reality settled in he began a week-long discussion of how he wanted his earthly possessions divided up or given away. Dad was an engineer and he put those logic and reasoning skills to direct us with very little emotion.
When he came to the 1989 Ranger he had bought new as a retirement gift to himself, he was quick and to the point. He said to just donate or sell it as it had been sitting in the woods seeing very little use. What was once his pride and joy had fallen on hard times. The death of his first wife, years long battles with various cancers and a second marriage had all conspired to steer his focus away from his once beautiful “little Red Truck” as he liked to call it.
I was still reeling form the news of his impending death, but at that very moment I was seized by a wave of memories. I have been in the automotive business all my life and with my connections, I was who he had turned to all those years ago to help him order his dream truck.
He was a highly successful career man who had risen to the very top of his profession. Being born in the depression he was very conservative and although he could afford any vehicle he wanted he always drove plain four door domestic sedans. Still, he had always harbored a desire to someday own a red pick up truck.
Since he was a graduate of Ohio State he insisted it be ordered in scarlet and grey. He took great pains to study which seating arrangement would best suit his needs and ordered as it turns out one of only five such interiors made that year (so said the Marti Report we received this Summer). It has a 60/40 Vinyl bench, as he hated cloth seats and leather wasnt available. Dad was over six feet and Mom was short so he felt that if she had to take over the driving duties he would be crushed up against the dash. As for buckets well, that was just out of the question, much to flashy for Dad.
He equipped it with every heavy-duty option and a 4:10 Trac Lock rear end as he planned on towing his smaller fishing boat around in his retirement. He paid extra for the 2.9 V6 which the Hagerty price guide now lists as a 10% deduction, go figure. Before taking delivery he had me run it to Ziebart for a full rust proofing, mud flaps and a soft bed cover.
Once he retired to South Carolina the truck was used as a back up to his new Continental and parked it unceremoniously under the trees on his side lot. As I look back, there were many hardware store and bait shop runs with me riding shotgun. It was our “Buddy Time” where we discussed all the worlds problems and solved about half of them.
I asked Dad if he didn’t mind, I might like to keep the truck such as it was. After all it was tightly woven into the fabric of our family’s story. I must say the wisdom of that request was greatly tested on the two day drive back up north with that low rear end. I like to tell my friends that it doesn’t have an accelerator as much as an on/off switch.
Many times people say “that thing rode as rough as a truck” well with the two sizes too small Chinese tires that were on Little Red at the time, I’m here to tell you first hand- there’s some truth to that tale. But make it home it did. Walking around the tired old gal I started thinking maybe I had made a mistake. The many years in the woods had been extremely unkind to her. But as they say nothing that time and lots of money couldn’t fix.
Today I enjoy taking her to local shows and cruise ins, where people are surprised to see a remaining stock 89 Ranger. What I enjoy the most other than the many compliments I have received, are the stories.
I came of age during the late 60s and early 70s, a time when everyone either had or had a friend who had, a VW beetle. We all had hair raising stores of adventure and mischief involving a Beetle.
What I soon discovered is that for the next generation behind me, the Ford Ranger was their “VW Beetle”. The stories tend to come unsolicited and unfiltered as they walk around Little Red. The raw emotions are very real, as this Ranger has impacted our family, so have other Rangers changed the lives of so many others.
As they say “she’s a keeper” one day I hope to pass her on to my Son, so he can carry on weaving the tapestry that is our family’s story and hopefully appreciate how one “Little Red Truck” came to mean so much to us all.
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