His name was Hank. Loyal, he went everywhere with me, listened when I needed to vent or sing at the top of my lungs. He knew all of my secrets and saw me do things I am too embarrassed to reveal here. Hank was my Jeep.
Named after a beloved pet, Hank was family but when I could no longer care for him he was donated. I was so emotional I couldn't be present when the tow truck came to take him away. During 13 years together we traveled across country twice, endured snow, brutal desert heat, a semi-brutal relationship and later many joyful road trips with my husband.
There is no denying, especially for Americans, cars play a huge role in our lives. Everyone remembers the car they grew up with, the car they learned to drive in, a friend's car you all piled into on a Friday night. Well, buckle up, kick back and enjoy the ride.