To: Chip Foose
Re: Overhaulin' Submission: 1968 GMC Pickup
This truck really embodies a personal story. A family story. Bought new by my great uncle Desmond, a lifelong commercial fisherman on Narragansett Bay, this truck was his daily driver for decades. A devoted husband and model of the blue collar American work ethic, he and his wife Ann never had children; only one another. Both lived into their nineties, and passed on within months of each other. I can still remember the strength in that old man's handshake. Even in relatively brief glimpses, he taught me a lot about genuine manhood.
One of their nephews, my uncle Dave, became in many ways the son they never had. As Ann and Dez advanced in years, my uncle Dave took it upon himself to look after and care for them as they continued to live together, independently, until the day they died. Sometime in the mid-nineties, uncle Dave took notice of the old, tired, GMC pickup parked on the property, having fallen into disrepair and disuse sometime ago. He offered to take it off Dez's hands, and my great uncle agreed.
A career firefighter and casual car enthusiast, uncle Dave took it upon himself to restore the old GMC to what extent he was able, swapping in a salvaged drivetrain, shoring up the body, and shooting it fire engine red. When Dave pulled up to Dez's house in the resurrected truck, Dez of course feigned horror that Dave had ruined "his" truck; grinning the whole time. From that time on, that 1968 GMC became a picture of the relationship between these two men; a physical embodiment of the love and mutual admiration they shared. This became especially significant after 2001, as Ann and Dez passed on, willing the care of their very modest estate to my Uncle Dave. To Dave, that GMC became all that he had left of Dez in this world, and caring for it became a way for him to continue to express his care for his uncle, even after his passing.
In addition to being a genuinely selfless public servant, the other thing one needs to know about my Uncle Dave, however, is that he is one of the automotively unluckiest people I have ever met. Between car accidents and mechanical mishaps, for a car enthusiast, his story has all the makings of an ongoing tragedy. And, for all its personal value, the GMC has never managed to escape entirely unscathed.
Moving to RI for college in 1999, I would visit my uncle, and was always drawn to the fire engine red antique truck in his driveway. It always seemed that there was some project, some part, some need for repair that we could spend the hours chatting about during my visits. Indeed, it was almost always the center of our conversations. In the spring of 2000, I convinced Dave to let me take the truck with me up to NH for my then-girlfriend's senior prom. My excitement at being set loose for the weekend with this treasured vehicle was short-lived, however, as about five miles down the road, that salvaged V8 blew a rod and ground to a halt. Needless to say, I was a bit late to the prom.
A 'new' motor was eventually salvaged and installed, and the GMC limped along for a number of years more. During this time, I was able to redeem that prom debacle by borrowing the truck again - this time successfully - for another weekend: In the spring of 2005, the old GMC was the 'getaway' vehicle for my wife and I at our wedding. That remains a precious memory.
Eventually, though, the truck came to sit for a year or more with some mechanical issue or another, which was costly for the body. Time and disuse were again taking their toll. A few years back, my uncle once again rallied around the cause of Dez's memory, and had the body of that truck completely gone through and reasonably restored. Still working off some variety of salvaged drivetrain, it was running, however, and looked as good as it had in years. As the ongoing vehicular tragedy would have it, though, not two months after that restoration, someone tried, unsuccessfully, to steal the rims off the truck while it was parked in public, unbeknownst to my uncle. He was lucky to have escaped harm when the front wheels spun off at 45mph, mangling the newly restored front end. Back to the body shop it went.
That was a few years back. Now, the truck again sits in my uncle's garage, this time with a blown transmission. I asked him recently if he wanted me to take it off his hands: I just figured he might have been tired of dumping money into it and willing to give someone else a turn. He told me then, though, that for him it was still a powerful reminder of his uncle Dez, and he wasn't ready to part with it just yet. And, he said, for all the thousands upon thousands of dollars that he has invested over the years, he feels like he's never actually had the chance to simply enjoy it; there's just always been something that has managed to crop up and get in the way. For a man that has given so much - for his family and community - it would be such a blessing to be given the gift of that old GMC, done up the way it ought to be done, and ready for him to just… drive.
Some years from now, when Uncle Dave is done enjoying it to his satisfaction, it's understood that that old GMC will find it's way to my garage. And, on top of that, my younger brother and his wife just gave birth to their second child earlier this year - a son. They named him Desmond, in honor of my great uncle. If I have my way - and with a little help? - that old GMC pickup will live to see its fourth generation. I'm a bit biased, of course, but that just strikes my as a story worth telling, and a vehicle worth "Overhaulin'". I hope that you might share the sentiment.
