On April 30, 2014, at approximately 3:46 p.m., the driveway at 714 Perth lost one of its more permanent fixtures. The 2003 Extended Wheelbase GMC Savana has driven her last mile for the Knot family—her faithful, if abusive, owners of over eleven years.
She came into the family in April of 2003 by way of a providential special-order, after which she was baptized by fire, so to speak. Less than a month into her infancy, she was tasked with caravanning eight humans, at least as many boogie boards, and two coolers brimming with Capri Sun™ from suburban Chicago to Florida’s panhandle.
Affectionately known as “Big Blue” and “The Behemoth” to those who knew her best, the Savana was celebrated by nearly all who came into contact with her, if only for her absurdly enormous size. Standing in at eight feet tall and well over six yards long, the Savana weighed over four tons. That didn’t stop her from cruising most of the Continental USA, all while overhearing the first half of Mean Girls as well as numerous other more age-appropriate movies along the way. When one closes ones eyes, it’s easy to imagine the witty one-liners and ridiculously catchy theme songs of Veggie Tales and Fraser still purring in her engine.
Big Blue was known to accommodate as many as sixteen passengers at a time, matching her highway gas mileage. Her six captains seats and rear bench with full-recline functionality were on the road for over 130,000 miles, including twelve trips to and from the Florida panhandle, a road trip through the Smoky Mountains, one expedition across the Wild West, a journey along the cliffs of Maine, and countless jaunts along the poorly-paved, railroad track-ridden streets to 1st Christian Reformed Church of South Holland.
“Dad! Drive more carefully!” David, the youngest Knot brother, would shout as his six-foot frame was launched into the air after crossing a set of railroad tracks. When my Dad told him there was nothing he could do, David shifted the blame to his youngest sister Elisabeth. But it wasn’t her fault either; it was Big Blue’s. But she didn’t care. She kept thundering on.
Parking tickets, dents in her doors from driveway basketballs gone astray, that one time she was towed, Big Blue was not without imperfection. As General Motors™, her parent company, cowered towards Washington D.C., she held her extended top high. A bailout wouldn’t burnout her spirit, though her air conditioning was hit or miss. She and her 30-gallon tank remained resolute in the face of rising gas prices. She never once pretended to be anything other than a gas-guzzling, people-moving machine. She was what she was. For that, she was loved.
As one AutoTrader reviewer put it, “Ponderous proportions typically make for ponderous handling, and in this regard the Savana delivers as expected. But within the context of a people or cargo carrier, GM engineers have done an admirable job of massaging the ‘beast’ out of this beast; the Savana delivers competent capability within its mission.”
After eleven years, the Savana’s mission began to differ from that of the Knots’. People-moving is far less a beasty task for five people than for eight. The driveway was filling up with hybrids. She might have felt jealous, unacknowledged, and underappreciated. Day turned to night and night to day and there she sat, unoccupied and stationary on the driveway. Her odometer sat still as her Goodyear™ tires slowly bore four divots into asphalt.
“This is a big mistake!” David cried as Tom, a Chicago fireman, drove the Savana off the driveway one last time. Tom says he likes to camp and plans to take Big Blue with. And the Knots? They can only hope Big Blue’s in a better place, still within her mission, still rumbling over railroad tracks and quoting talking cucumbers. Because now there’s an empty spot in the driveway at 714 Perth. And when it rains, puddles form where tires used to be.
Andrew Knot (’11) lives and writes in Cologne, Germany.
