Goodbye Green Giant

Last week, we said goodbye to a member of our family — our 1998 Pacific Green Ford Expedition. We purchased it in 1997, and I remember feeling like I was driving a school bus those first few weeks, because the giant SUV was so much bigger than the compact car it replaced. Despite being just the two of us at the time, we opted for the third-row seat, a decision that proved wise when we needed to transport an army of family members to a funeral in Swainsboro a few weeks later.

My Uncle Edwin and my mom outfitted it with a trailer hitch at AAA Trailer Hitch, our family business in Macon, and that green Expedition earned its keep hauling everything from furniture to riding lawn mowers on dusty, rattling trailers. The gas mileage was terrible from day one and only got worse over time, but what it lacked in efficiency, it made up for in memories.

Our German Shepherd, Roxy, was the first of our pets to claim it as her domain, leaving her mark with scuffs and nail indentations on the center console — marks that remained visible there until the very end. When we moved to Northwest Georgia, that trusty Ford became our workhorse, hauling building supplies as we constructed our house on the hill — tools, lumber, cinder blocks, insulation, mulch, pine straw, plants, you name it.

After Roxy, came Shasta and Daisy, then Zot, who loved the Expedition more than anyone up to that point. I’d catch glimpses of his smiling furry face in the rearview mirror as he “chased” passing cars from the inside of the vehicle. Then came Cali, our golden retriever, who refused to be relegated to the back seat. She earned the nickname “our console riding dog,” leaving her own marks on that well-worn center console. We couldn’t even say “Ford” or “Truck” inside the house without her bolting to the door, barking incessantly — we had to resort to spelling words to avoid tipping her off and causing a rowdy ruckus.

While the Expedition’s exterior showed its age, the engine remained reliable for the first 20 years. The odometer gave up at 251,459 miles years ago — we estimate it might have hit 350,000 miles by the end, but we really have no idea. In recent years, one door lock refused to work and it began burning oil, and after a scary smoking incident at a traffic light during the pandemic, I lost confidence in taking it very far from the house. We relegated it to garbage runs and short trips to Home Depot or Ace Hardware.

We were basically waiting for it to die, but it stubbornly refused. The check engine light came on in 2020, and it never went off again. Even when it seemed to give up last year outside a Chinese restaurant, a roadside mechanic happened by and had it “purring like a kitten again” with a new alternator in a matter of two hours. Still, I wouldn’t drive it more than a few miles, fearing it might leave me stranded by the side of the road.

When my Uncle Lamar Lanier died last year, I asked about his truck — a red 2003 Ford F-150. I suspected that it could replace the Expedition and serve as a work truck. My cousin sold it to us and we drove it home. The dog took to it immediately. And so, it was time to sell the Expedition. I took photos and placed an ad on Facebook Marketplace.

Last week, a man drove an hour with a carful of kids to buy it, handing over $2,100 in cash. He returned minutes later with CDs he’d found in the console — his children were fascinated by them, by the way, making me feel absolutely ancient. When he called the next day about a failed alternator, we immediately sent him a check to help cover the repair. We’re hoping that’s the end of its mechanical surprises.

Yes, we’re relieved to be rid of it, continued from page

but there’s also a surprising amount of sadness. That Expedition has been with us for almost 30 years of our 35-year marriage. It transported all our beloved pets, countless friends and family members, and whatever cargo life required us to haul at the time. So excuse me for feeling sentimental about a vehicle, but when something’s been part of that many chapters of your life, it’s hard to just watch it drive away without feeling a little tug at your heart. From road trips to dog slobber to home projects to family milestones, the big green Expedition was built Ford tough, but most of all, it was loved.