A Funny Chad Story

I’ve told the first part of this story on here before . . probably several times but I’ll tell it from the beginning.

Chad was 9 when Vince and I married and moved to Kentucky. I’m not sure where Chad got the idea but he considered himself a sophisticated, city dweller and he was sure we had moved him into hillbilly territory. We had not. We lived in Owensboro, KY and though we lived out in the country, it very much felt like city living.

Chad had been in private school in Louisiana and it was a small school and there probably were not a lot of kids in the school whose parents hunted and fished.

After we had been in Kentucky for a few years, we had to have a couple of serious conversations with Chad about thinking he was surrounded by “rednecks”. This was 25 years ago and even back then, I told Chad “These are the people who, for the most part, know how to live off the land, and that’s something to be proud of! These are the people who, for the most part still stand by their word and would help you if you needed help.” I told him . . it’s people who think they’re better than other people . . those are the people you need to stay away from.” I don’t think our conversations did much to change Chad’s attitude.

Any of the boys who drove pickups, hunted or fished . . Chad had no use for them.

One of the things that about sent Chad over the edge was that people would separate the bed of an old truck from the cab once the motor was gone and body was too far gone to fix and they would use the old bed for a trailer. He had never seen anything like that. I don’t know why it bothered him so much. If he didn’t want to pull an old bed of a truck around, he didn’t have to do it but why worry about others doing it?

We moved to MO not long after Chad graduated from high school. When we told Chad we were moving, he said “I hope we’re not going where . . . ” and he stopped. I know he hoped we were moving to a city where the kids drove fast cars and no one spent every spare minute hunting and fishing. As we were driving into Nevada, MO . . which is definitely NOT a big city and where lots more people drive pickups, hunt and fish than in Kentucky, we stopped to get gas. Vince was driving his pickup in front, then me in the middle in the Honda CRV and Chad in back driving his Mazda (that burned in the corn field). When we stopped, he jumped out of the car, ran up to Vince and said “PLEASE tell me we’re just stopping to get gas and this is NOT where we’re moving.” Nope . . this is your new home, kiddo!

Probably the first young man Chad met was Bobby. His family lived pretty far out of town and they were big into hunting and fishing and . . driving pickup trucks. I credit that entire family with turning Chad’s life around. They took him in and before I knew it, Chad was camping out with Bobby and they were hunting and fishing all the time! Chad learned to clean his own game, he learned to trap, and fishing because one of his biggest priorities. In college, I think he fished way more than he studied.

When he wrecked his car, Vince told him he would help Chad find another car that was within his budget. I’m sure Chad hated saying it but he told Vince “I’d rather have a pickup than a car!” They found a pickup.

Yesterday Chad called me and he said “Mom, remember how I used to get so frustrated about people hunting and fishing and driving pickup trucks in Kentucky?” I said “Yes!” He then said “Do you remember what bothered me even more than that?” I said “Yes! Using the back of a pickup for a trailer.”

He said “Look at your messages!”

This is what he bought yesterday!

I think it’s a year newer or a year older than my grandpa’s old truck – and it’s a 1959 model. You can see my grandpa’s old pickup in Chad’s garage. He said the orange paint isn’t original so he’s going to try to restore the old trailer to match my grandpa’s pickup.

I told him . . you’ve come full circle – the things you detested, you now see the value in them. I couldn’t wait to get off the phone and tell Vince. I told Vince . . I think Chad bought it more because of the memories of those old trailers in Kentucky.