The thermometer at the bank read 102° as I pulled into Delta. The sharp glare of the late July sun glinted off the glass of the passing cars creating a kaleidoscope on the walls of the tired storefronts. A group of brown-haired children played in the dusty lot near an old antique store, their skin the color of beechnuts from countless hours of summer fun. I adjusted the radio and “Old Black Dodge” by Sean Rowe came on. I looked up from the dial and something caught my eye.

Cars. Old, dusty, rusty cars. A whole row of them in an empty lot off to my right. I pulled into the next available parking spot and walked the two blocks back to get a closer look. I love cars. I don’t know a ton about them but oh, I love cars…especially old cars. My grandpa had an old Model A Ford that he converted into a farm truck. I loved that thing. It didn’t have a muffler and the clutch was really tricky. He let me drive it once in a while. That mish-mash of a truck instilled the love of rusty junk in my heart.

I got to the lot full of old cars and noted their cracked windshields, rusty red fenders with flecks of the original paint colors still clinging to them, horsehair and excelsior barely covered with shreds of dingy brown upholstery. Printed in the lower corner of each windshield in red wax pencil was the simple direction “Do not raise the hoods!” It made me curious as to what one might find if one was wont to disobedience. I didn’t touch.

A young man was there photographing these ancient relics…ghosts of a time when post-war bobbie soxers cruised the streets on a Saturday night with Rock Around the Clock by Bill Haley & His Comets blaring from the radio. The young man turned to me and broke into a huge, little boy grin and said, “You’ll never find so many of these babies in one place…anywhere!” You’d think he’d invented cool. He turned around for one last shot then ambled back up the street to his car.

I went down the line and read every make and model thinking maybe the details would miraculously stick with me. But, no…I know makes like Ford, Plymouth, Oldsmobile. But models and details are lost on me. I see these rusty hunks of metal as works of are…sculptures silently disappearing back into the earth. And, on this day in the sweltering heat of Western Colorado, I stood and paid homage to a simpler time…a simpler world. A time when there was dignity and honor and respect among the citizenry. When children were safe and elders revered. When cars were sturdy and your dad could work on them.

Finally, the heat got the better of me and it was time to move on from this trip down memory lane…the dusty old bones of an era long gone left shimmering in a little town called Delta.

❤️

“I will give you every place where you set your foot, as I promised Moses.”

Joshua 1:3 NIV