Untold Story



I know there’s a story here.  We were in Knoxville visiting Rachel’s dad this summer. Walking out of his church we saw this awesome car. At least I thought it was awesome.  Bob’s probably seen it every Sunday for who knows how many years. A bright purple Chrysler station wagon. Paint and body in great condition. Parked proudly amidst a sea of nondescript silver and white.

There is one dominant color in Knoxville, and that color is bright in-your-face orange. Volunteers. On game day the city and the surrounding roads are a torrent of orange  that would have made William proud. (Mary, maybe not so much…she married into the family.) Can you just see this car driving proudly around on game day and into the stadium parking lot?  Now that would be a picture. It kinda hurts your eyes.

But back to to the car. Look at the front license plate. Since there aren’t any official front license plates in Tennessee you can do what you want with the space. It says ‘purple haze’. Hendrix. Parked right there front and center in the Fountain City First Baptist Church lot. Has it always been her car? Was it her parents’? Was it a mid-life crisis purchase? Has it always been purple? Did she grow up in the Bay Area? Did she used to be a hippie? Is she still?

I don’ t know the answers to any of these questions and probably never will. After I snapped the 2 pictures I walked up and told her I loved her car and then walked off. But I thought of it this morning as we were 8 inches into what’s forecast to be a 12-18 inch snowfall and everything in the back garden is a shade of black or white.  When the storm is over and the sun comes out I’ll imagine it, gleaming, parked out back and think about what I’ll say to her if I see her car next time we visit Knoxville.

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