My father’s mountain of possessions has come to tap us kids in the face – not hard, just a “hey, here is the story of my life’ love pat.

I’ve written about my dad’s first child – the 1948 MG-TC, his 1965 Chevy Impala that survived the “Great Firetruck Pedal Car Incident of 1969”. But today I’d like to introduce you to my father’s other beloved – Morris the Truck.

I can’t remember what color the truck was originally, but I remember him pulling up in the driveway with its new paint job – Meadow Gold Milk (or was it Melody Farms?) truck colors – ivory and rust.

At the time the city required the truck have dad’s name the city on the side even though it was for personal use, it was classified as a business mode of transportation. That was how “Leo Juppe, Waukegan, IL” appeared on the sides.

Being a cousin once removed from the MG, she purred when you turned over the motor like the treasured first child.  Morris also gave you the need to race like the MG. Yet, I could see this little truck cresting hills in European farmlands – England, Ireland, Scotland – even Sweden or Italy to make deliveries. It was a truck and trucks have work to do!

Morris was with our family for a few years and one day he pulled out the drive, his new and younger owner Gregg at the wheel. It was the last time I set eyes on it until last week.

Last week, I pulled out some papers from a manila envelope labeled “Morris the truck”. It was a 2015 email from Gregg telling my dad about the adventures of Morris since leaving Hickory Street. Morris stayed in many garages, drove to college and back, lived in Florida and Highland Park until the time of the email, where Gregg picked the car up and brought it Washington State where it has begun a slow restoration process. Gregg included pictures, many of car parts, but the one that caught my attention was the one where a very tired Morris was sitting in the driveway of his new home – my dad’s paint job and name still visible!

I was so touched at seeing Morris again (after all, wasn’t he just another sibling like the MG?) that I wrote to Gregg to tell him of my dad’s passing and how touched I was to read his email and see the pictures. He wrote back and after expressing his condolences, he promised to keep me posted on Morris’ progress. I look forward to it.

Now, if only I could find pictures of Dad’s Cortina and track that one down!

Photo by Gregg