I was 13 when Dad and I went new truck shopping. We spent the whole day going to multiple dealerships. Truly he wanted a new Ram, but we looked at all options. We played the “New Dodge” game (punch buggy parody) since the second gens came out. I pleaded for him to make one last stop at Springfield Dodge when I saw it. I said “Dad, I think I found your truck!”

I sure did. I covered the bases. Needs were 8 cylinder, 4 wheel drive, and 8 foot bed. This truck had those things, along with center console, fabric seats and carpeted floor. Manual everything, no cruise control, no tachometer. The price was right, Dad got a great deal on this 2018 leftover, and he brought it home.

We spent my teens riding in this truck on road trips to Georgia to visit my Mom and Brother. Also going out to dinner because we didn’t want to cook. He’d let me drive it in an industrial park after church each week before I even had my permit. It’s no wonder I aced my driving test. Many miles of memories were shared in the cab of this truck.

I was 18, fresh out of high school, apprenticing at a mechanic shop September of 2003. Dad made the last payment, and suddenly without warning he passed away. My brother got the 90 Ram, tools, and business while I got the 98 Ram. I took care of her and we had a few accidents. I went down a dark path in life, involved with the wrong girl, wouldn’t listen to anyone, and sold the truck for rent money. It was my biggest regret. It ruined me.

About 8 years later I saw it and found out who had it. I kept telling the owners son I wanted that truck, no matter what. And after about 10 years of being parted with it, I got it back.

This truck is where I feel close to him. He wasn’t just my father, he was my best friend. Those who knew him still mourn him, for he was one of a kind. He was a great man, friend, husband and father. He was an excellent teacher and honest business man. I miss I’m dearly. Now I can get behind the wheel and feel close to him again, I’ll never let his truck go a second time.

It is a labor of love. There isn’t a panel without rust, not a seal that doesn’t leak, not a part that isn’t worn. Piece by piece I am working on restoring it to the way he had it. Needs entire interior, drivers door, rockers, bed sides, windows, seals, etc etc. If it takes me the next 30 years to get it done and 10 times what the truck cost in the first place, to me it’s worth it. I miss him more than words can say.