travisburdette75
Newbie
Back in the first week of July, my father signed his truck over to me. He had bought it new and brought it home January 24, 1988. Yes, it is a 1988 Chevy C1500 Cheyenne, standard cab, 2WD, with the 5.7, TH700-R4, 2.73 posi rear end, in midnight blue metallic. He was always proud of his truck. I learned to drive in it as soon as I had my learner's permit. My dad and I had gone hunting, fishing, etc. together many times over the years in that truck.
He ended up with mesothelioma, a type of lung cancer from asbestos exposure. Recently he had a scare and woke up in the hospital, not remembering how he had gotten there. The scare was enough to cause him to start cleaning out the house and giving stuff away. So now I'm the proud, but sad owner of his truck.
The truck has been garage kept since 1995, when he had his garage built. But the paint had already started letting go, revealing the primer underneath. It had also developed rust in the cab corners and around the rear wheel arches. My dad told me to get some quotes from different body shops, and he will pay to have the truck repainted and rust repair done.
On August 3, the truck finally made it into the shop to begin the paint and body repair. On August 5, my brother called me with the news that dad had passed away. I was shocked that it happened so fast, even though I knew the time was short. He wanted so much to hang around to see his beloved truck returned to its former glory, but he didn't make it.
This truck will never quite belong to me. It will always be dad's truck.
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He ended up with mesothelioma, a type of lung cancer from asbestos exposure. Recently he had a scare and woke up in the hospital, not remembering how he had gotten there. The scare was enough to cause him to start cleaning out the house and giving stuff away. So now I'm the proud, but sad owner of his truck.
The truck has been garage kept since 1995, when he had his garage built. But the paint had already started letting go, revealing the primer underneath. It had also developed rust in the cab corners and around the rear wheel arches. My dad told me to get some quotes from different body shops, and he will pay to have the truck repainted and rust repair done.
On August 3, the truck finally made it into the shop to begin the paint and body repair. On August 5, my brother called me with the news that dad had passed away. I was shocked that it happened so fast, even though I knew the time was short. He wanted so much to hang around to see his beloved truck returned to its former glory, but he didn't make it.
This truck will never quite belong to me. It will always be dad's truck.
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