I never had a bad winter before the winter of 1996-1997.
I swear my vehicles were doomed from the start. The torture
that my vehicles had to endure was unbelievable. There were
four main episodes that would of had any individual of sound
mind hang their keys up for good. Am I of sound mind? Who
is to say.

The bitter cold settled in early the year of 1996. The
snow arrived early and lay so peacefully on the earth. One
morning early before the hustle and bustle of the days events
began old Betsey sat parked peacefully on the side of the street
where she usually retired when not in use. This one cool
morning the peacefulness the car was to endure was not to be .
The early morning came to life with the loud crunch of twisting
metal. The silence of the morning was broken. Old Betsey was
disturbed out of its peacefulness. The big white postal vehicle
backed right up in to the drivers door. This was the mark of a
quick sale of a automobile that served no purpose no longer
due to an accident that was no fault of Betsey. The inevitable
happened, Betsey was sold so the owner could have a newer
vehicle. All because a single postal vehicle did not watch where
it was going.

At a later date a Chevy truck replaced old Betsey. The
Chevy pick-up was given the dreaded parking space where old
Betsey had rested at one time. This vehicle was for sure a
wiser choice. The winter evening settled in from a long day of

ice and rain. The sun went down peacefully with a sure prom¬
ise of a better morning. This of course was not what was to lie
ahead. The stillness of the evening was yet again broken with
the late afternoon pounding of the door. Yes, it happened
again the pick-up was hit. Believe it or not by a different
postal vehicle. The same driveway was the cause again. The
truck was damaged in the drivers door and the poor postal
workers were totally embarrassed. The winter had taken its
toll on yet another innocent vehicle. This was not the last, oh
no, more was yet to come. Would you have hung your keys in
a permanent resting place yet? Maybe, maybe not.

The winter of 1997 was sure to be a more hopeful winter
for my transportation. No such luck, there was a more tragic
incident in store for yet another vehicle. This one more tragic
than the first two. In January of 1997,at 11:00 Am., a newer
vehicle that was a Berretta and red in color, was taken for a
drive to Grand Rapids for a return on Christmas gifts. This
one particular morning was warmer than the previous morn¬
ings a perfect day to go for a ride, or so we thought. Once ar¬
riving at our destination a cool breeze set in. It blew mildly in
to the road. The sign that the afternoon was finished and the
journey home arrived sooner than expected. The expressway looked deserted there seemed to be only the
slightest movement on the road way. Because of the wind and
the ever so light snow coming on to the highway, it was better
to travel at a slower speed. Across the highway you could see
oncoming traffic steady on the road way. Than out of no
where a large white mean looking van (obviously going to fast)
crossed the media at a barreling speed of seventy five miles per
hour. The large van came closer and closer in to the path of
the small red Berretta. There was no turning back the loud
crashing and glass breaking could be seen and heard from
miles away. The car was to see the last winter of its life there
was no saving the beautiful red Berretta. It was dead, it died
at 2:15 p.m.on January 5 th. There was no fixing up or repair¬
ing the red Berretta it had taken its last road trip, Of course,
no thanks to a speeding big white van. As you can guess this
vehicle was replaced by a Buick. .

Would the Buick have a better chance to out last the
previous cars? The Buick never got hit by a postal vehicle or a
big white van. One bright winter afternoon when the snow
had all melted and the afternoon showed signs of Spring,
around the corner the Buick sat parked at the side of this
peaceful street. It was waiting to be repaired after a transmis¬
sion plug fell