(Listening to “Close Enough” by Brett Young)

I bought a truck a couple of days ago.  I had no idea the purchase would come with a touching lesson about the Vietnam War.

The wife and I have purchased a lot of cars over the years because of the Dave Ramsey plan.  Back in 2009 I blew the motor in my Audi while driving to Breckenridge.  The repair tapped out our meager newlywed savings and we quickly realized that we could “afford” the payments, but we really couldn’t afford the cars.  So, we sold both of our newer cars, bought old and reliable cars that wouldn’t require payments, and began “debt snowballing.”  It took about 20 months, but by the end, we had no car payments, no student loan payments, and no debt.  From 2009 to 2013, the wife drove a 1998 Honda Civic, I drove a 1994 Jeep Wrangler.  Both of them weren’t much to look at, but they got us from point A to point B and allowed us to start saving $300 a month in a car fund.

We eventually bought a house and had a kid on the way, so we decided to update the wife’s car.  We bought a 2003 Honda CR-V.  Then I upgraded to a 2000 Jeep Wrangler.  We were blessed with another bundle of joy, so we bought a 2007 Honda Pilot and said goodbye to the Civic and the Jeep.  After some convincing, we recently bought a 2002 Ford Ranger.

All of the cars above, except for the Civic, have one thing in common.  They all went to our mechanic, John, before we purchased them.  The Civic didn’t and on the way home from the corner lot dealer, the check engine light came on.  It needed a new transmission.  The dealer told us it was our problem now.  The wife drove it for a year with a slipping transmission.  It got to the point where she had to manually shift the automatic through the gears.  One day, she called and said, “I can only get it in second gear.”  I told her, “It’s time.”  It was a $3200 lesson.

John is the best.  He’s an honest mechanic.  He treats our cars as if they were his own.  His favorite phrase is, “If it were mine, I would do…”  He has never steered us wrong.  I found him shortly after the wife and I moved to Denver.  Something had gone wrong with one of our cars and we needed a mechanic.  I found John in the yellow pages.  I looked him up online and other patrons had raved about his customer service.  We have been taking our cars to him ever since.  He gives us great deals, and we make sure to get him and his crew Christmas gifts or buy them the occasional lunch.  I’ll wait at his shop for a repair to be done.  We’ll shoot the breeze about baseball and pretty much anything else.  He always calls me “sir” and I call him the same.  John isn’t just a good mechanic, he’s a great person and so are the two guys he employs.

A couple of days ago, I went to go look at the Ford Ranger I was interested in purchasing.  The seller was a man named Rick.  He had recently retired and was looking to upgrade his vehicle.  He bought the Ranger with 11 miles on it 15 years ago.  It now had just more than 94,000.  The vehicle was well taken care of and the motor purred like a kitten.  I wanted to make a deal right then and there.  I called the wife and told her this was the one and wanted to make an offer.  She said, “Well, we have to take it by John first.”  In my head I was thinking, “Oh man.  That’s just going to take more time,” but I knew she was right.  We had been burned before.  I asked Rick if we could take it to my mechanic and he agreed, so I set up an appointment for the next day.  I am so glad I made that appointment, not because I knew I was buying a good truck, but because of the interaction between two veterans I would be privileged to witness.  I come from a military family and both of my parents served.  My mom was a First Lieutenant in the Air Force and my dad retired as a Captain in the Army.  Both are proud of their service, and I am deeply proud of them for their service; which made the interaction I was going to see even more special.

I met Rick in the morning and we went to John’s.  Rick was wearing a Vietnam Veterans hat.  He had been in the Navy during that time.  In previous conversations with John, I knew he had served in the Air Force in Vietnam as well.  He is very proud of his service to his country, as he should be.  We pulled up and John immediately noticed Rick’s hat.  As John surveyed the truck, they began to talk about their tours in Vietnam.  They told each other where they served and what years they were there, but they weren’t talking like they had just met each other.  They were talking like they had known each other their whole lives.  They confided in each other about how they don’t really talk about their time over there with anyone else because it’s too painful and they lost too many friends.  They just had this unspoken connection between them.  I could only imagine as a stood there and listened.  These two men, more than 50 years removed from their separate situations and experiences, shared this unique bond of brotherhood.

John and I went for a test drive in the Ranger.  He listened to the motor.  He checked to make sure the alignment was correct.  He checked the acceleration, the braking, and the turning.  He said everything checked out fine, just as I had suspected.  He told me if I didn’t buy this truck, he would.  We pulled back into the shop and I got out and told Rick we had a deal.  I paid John, thanked him for his time, and shook his hand as I always do.  Rick and John both shook hands, then Rick asked for John’s business card.  John went into his office to grab a card, walked back out, handed it to Rick, and they shook hands again.  Hands clenched, John looked Rick dead in the eye and said in the most sincere tone, “Welcome home, brother,” and Rick replied in the exact same manner, “Welcome home to you too, brother.”  I nearly teared up.  I think they almost did too.

Rick and I got into the truck.  He looked at the business card and said what I already knew.  Rick said, “He’s a good man.”  I replied, “Yes he is.  I trust him and that’s why I wanted him to see the truck.  Thanks for understanding.”  Rick replied, “No problem at all.  I’m glad I met him.  I’ll be giving him a call.  It’s always good to help a brother out.”

It had been 56 years since either of them had stepped foot in Vietnam.  Judging by the conversation they had, it seemed like it had only been two weeks.  I could see it on their faces; memories from half a lifetime ago were as fresh as the day they took place.  I can’t possibly imagine what they went through, but because of my little truck, I caught a glimpse.  Thank you, sirs…for everything.