Sent: Fri 7/11/2003 11:53 AM
From: Ashley Bristowe [omitted]
To: John Bristowe [omitted]
Subject: Car: dead
After seven trusty years of loyal companionship and service, my car was pronounced dead at 4:21pm MST yesterday, in Calgary AB.
Of unexpected transmission and general failure, and of the utter economic infeasibility of repair, the final diagnosis was reached after a day and a half of waiting for word from the dealership. (When the news came, Sid the Ford Customer Service Guy was kind: the pronouncement was quiet, swift. He said to go ahead and take some time before arrangements had to be made. I put down the phone then, giggling, unbelieving.)
Known variously as "the Escort", "the Ashmobile" and "Zinger", the red 1992 Ford was a blessing in the life of Ashley Bristowe. The beloved vehicle was previously owned by siblings John, 27, of Chicago, and Ainsley, 27, of Ottawa, both by way of Lennoxville and Calgary; with thanks to Dr. JRB Bristowe (presently MIA in South America) and Valerie Bristowe of Central Interior British Columbia.
The deceased was a trooper, a fighter, a heroine. She survived a 1996 electrical fire, two sets of replaced brake pads (1996 and 2001), a Powassan transmission replacement (1997), and a mysterious but fateful breakdown on the TransCanada near Golden (2002). In her time she chewed through three sets of windshield wipers, two sets of interior floor mats, and - yes - eleven headlights.
With a odometer reading more than 239,000km, this gallant girl made the trip across Canada at least twice, visiting six provinces and various northeastern American states. Thanks to the Ashmobile there were spontaneous roadtrips to Kingston, visits through the Rockies to Nakusp, speaking tours of southern Ontario.
She provided transportation for the doing-of innumerable errands and the provision of rides to friends, in Toronto, Calgary, and Guelph, among other cities. She has at one time or another housed soccer gear, large quantities of homemade jam, cousins and classmates and suitors and friends, expired insurance cards, prayer beads, Codydog nose smears on the windows, a slide projector and other presentation accoutrements, and a pinata.
A much-loved and hugely cherished vehicle, the car we lay to rest was a lifeline to freedom and the provider of comfort and convenience. The Escort was a good car, and she will be missed. Today we say goodbye to a friend.
Notes of condolence can be sent to the [omitted] address. To provide unsolicited advice regarding the anticipated purchase of a replacement vehicle, you may call [omitted] or [omitted].
Love to you all this day,
A
Last orders merely ask that we remember her; our car, our chariot, our 1992 Ford Escort.
