It seems like The Children’s Museum of Indianapolis has always been a part of my life. I can still remember a van from The Children’s Museum pulling up to my house on Rosewood Lane to drop off materials for my Mom to work on for the Teacher’s Resource Link. I can also remember when my brother Kreig used to volunteer in MAP (Museum Apprentice Program) and I subsequently ended up volunteering and working at the museum for almost ten years. That place is home to me… and perhaps I’ll write more about those memories later.

Today I want to focus on the CineDome. Some of you may remember it because it was one of the biggest construction campaigns the museum had worked on since the 1980s. In 1995, they broke ground for the CineDome which was a large domed theater (think of a mix between a planetarium and an IMAX). In 1996 they completed the CineDome, constructed Festival Park just outside the CineDome/Welcome Center, and also opened ScienceWorks in the old science exhibition area on the fifth floor.

Before each show at the CineDome, they’d show a seven-minute clip called "Imagine Indiana." Even though I worked at The Children’s Museum, I didn’t go to very many shows at the CineDome. But when I came across this video on YouTube, I totally remembered it. It gives the viewer just a glimpse into what Indiana is all about. The quality isn’t the best, as I got this video from a second-hand source, but I really hope you enjoy it. For those of you who haven’t been around The Children’s Museum lately, the CineDome was replaced many years ago by a new exhibit called DinoSphere.

Do you remember the CineDome? What was one of your favorite movies to see there?

Sometimes in our lives we need to be reminded of where we’ve been so that we can hopefully be able to rejoice in how far we’ve come. For me, this moment came on Saturday as I spent some time photographing St. Luke Catholic Church.

For those of you who don’t know, I went to St. Luke Catholic School from fourth through seventh grade. It was a slightly difficult transition for me because I was a non-Catholic in a Catholic school. I made a great first impression during communion when Mrs. Sullivan held up the wafer and said, "the body of Christ" to which I responded, "thank you" and gladly walked off. Fortunately, Mrs. Sullivan tracked down my teacher after Mass and made sure I didn’t take communion until I’d gone through the classes and had my official first communion.

As time progressed I grew in my faith at St. Luke’s. The religious education director of the church, Mrs. Spitznogle, took the time to talk with me about first communion. When I was ready, I went to my uncle’s parish where he was the priest and had my first communion.

Over the next few years I spent countless hours at the church: children’s choir practice on Tuesday afternoons, Mass at least once a week for school, singing in the choir for Mass on Saturday’s at 5:30 p.m. Not to mention holy days, the Rosary, confession.

I tell you all of this to show you what my spiritual life consisted of at St. Luke’s. If you had asked me back then what I was, I would’ve identified myself as Catholic. If you would’ve asked me about my relationship with God, I would’ve acknowledged that I prayed to him regularly and had a great reverence and was in awe of His holiness.

To this day, I will still go to a Catholic church to pray when I really need alone time with God. There is something about the beauty, sacredness, and holiness of the Catholic church that draws me in.

As I wrapped up photographing the church on Saturday, I took some time to kneel on those all-too-familiar kneeling benches to say a prayer. Then, I just sat there and looked up at the mosaic of Jesus on the cross.

My spiritual journey started at St. Luke’s, but it didn’t end there. As I stared up at that mosaic, I thought about how thirteen years had passed since I last knelt and prayed to God at St. Luke’s. I thought about my parents’ divorce, struggling through years of anxiety disorder, my mom remarrying, two of my brothers getting married, graduating high school, finishing college, making friends, remembering friends who had passed away, the blessings that I’ve had in my life, and the darker times I’ve gone through.

As I sat and stared at that mosaic of Jesus, I wanted to weep. Because during many of those years, I fell away from Him. But I can rejoice because Jesus has brought me back into a personal relationship with Him and I have grown so much in my faith because of it. Spending some time at St. Luke’s on Saturday was definitely a blessing reminding me of where I’ve been and how far I’ve come.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." – Deuteronomy 31:6

"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." – Lamentations 3:22-23

This weekend my house said goodbye to an old friend, Spot the Turtle. Spot is preceded in death by his friends: Hyden the Dog, Doodles the Cat, Patches the Cat, Scooter the Guinea Pig and Prince the Finch.

If there’s one thing we can say about Spot, it’s that he lived life in the slow lane. He enjoyed nothing more than basking in the warm glow of the 40 watt bulb while taking a dip in his bowl of water.

Spot lived a simple life. He’d burrow under inches of litter, only to come to the surface when the smell of Velveeta Shells n’ Cheese enticed him. With a grin on his little turtle face, he’d impale the shells n’ cheese with his claws and slowly bring it up to his mouth to enjoy. If you listened closely, you could hear him chomping on his dinner.

Perhaps the most action packed time for Spot came young in his life. According to his friend and owner Ron, this is what happened:

"I can remember one time he was in one of the boys’ bedroom with the door shut .. to kinda get a little exercise .. well one of the boys ran into his room and forgot to close the door.  Well .. next thing I know .. I am looking up at the top of the stairs and there’s Spot teetering like a car that’s about ready to go over the cliff .. well before I could do anything .. down the stairs he came like a hubcap .. I should say rolling down the stairs.   .. Spot tucked in his shell .. and BOOM … he hit the wall at the bottom of the stairs .. what a ride!"

Spot’s favorite book was Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss and his favorite cartoon was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. If Spot could leave one piece of advice for the future generations, it would be to always be comfortable in your own shell.

Today was such a great day! I had been wanting to go back to The Art Institute of Chicago since my last visit in high school. In fact, one of my fondest memories of Chicago is when my advanced photography class headed up to the Art Institute to check out the Irving Penn exhibit.

Well, today I got to go back. I’m in Chicagoland for a one-day workshop, but I headed up a day early so I wouldn’t have to get up super early on Thursday morning. I parked my car at The Museum of Science and Industry, hopped on the Metra, and headed over to Michigan Avenue.

There’s something special about art museums, it’s like the ornate frames are a window into the world of the artist. Everytime I go to an art museum, I feel like Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I’ll stand far away and look at it from a distance and then I’ll get up close and look closer at the details: brush strokes, use of color, the texture of the canvas.

One of my favorite things today was just floating from gallery to gallery and looking at all the artwork: paintings, furniture, decorative pieces, etc. Paintings have a way of drawing me into that world and time. When I look at a work of art, I wonder what’s going on outside of the frame that we can’t see: What sounds are going on around the subject? Are there smells? It’s funny, I know, but these are the things I think about.

As you can probably tell, I love more realism art rather than abstract. As a photographer, I photograph the world as I see it and so I appreciate painters who can do the same. Then there are those painters who can read a piece of literature and be inspired, or have a dream and can take that dream and turn it into a vision for a piece of art.

And while I don’t have an acquired appreciation for decorative pieces like tea sets and furniture, I love to imagine how those pieces were used when they were originally created. And as I look at the date on the placard next to a work of art, I just can’t imagine how many places that piece of artwork has been, how it’s been used, what’s the story behind it?

I walked out of the Art Institute feeling like I spent a couple of hours glancing into so many different time periods, looking into the imaginations of so many artists, and have a greater appreciation for the artists and their work. Yep, it was a good day.

For me, it reminds me of my summer as an intern at Grace in 2007, and little did I know that it would be a new beginning for me.

Where I was in life
When I started my internship at Grace, I was nearing a turning point in my life. I was about halfway through my degree program and had been working at Marsh for the past eight years. I had applied to be JD’s intern for the summer, mostly doing web site related stuff and had hoped to cram in some of my school internship requirements along the way. Well, I didn’t fulfill my school’s internship requirements, but I still had a great summer!

The fun of being an intern
The great thing about the internship program was the leadership of Aaron and Linda. They did a killer job making us feel welcome. One of my greatest memories from my intern summer was the retreat we went on. I had been struggling with anxiety disorder over the past eight years and up until that point had never spent the night away from my house, nor did I let anyone drive me anywhere. It’s funny looking back now and seeing how those obstacles kept me from so many things, but I can only rejoice in the fact that I no longer have anxiety in those areas.

The intern retreat was cool for numerous reasons. One, as I mentioned, I began to overcome my anxiety disorder that summer as I stayed the night with the interns and let Aaron drive us around. Ha ha! I remember going to Beth’s house and having lunch, having fun at the Indians game, staying the night in the Westin, waking up in the morning to go to Holliday Park in the early morning to spend quiet time with God. I remember going to Lynn’s house and watching a "welcome video" that the staff had put together for us. In fact, here’s a clip!

We concluded our intern retreat by going to St. Elizabeth Ann Seaton Catholic Church which has a beautiful chapel and we spent time praying over each other, it was a moving moment for me.

The rest of the summer
The rest of the summer went by fairly fast. I really loved working with JD in our little office, he had the big desk, I had the little desk.

Now that I work in JD’s old office, I miss having an office buddy. It was nice to just have random talks from time-to-time, to hear his phone play "Linus and Lucy" when his wife called, to be able to ask really random questions. He is also a big tech geek, so it was really easy for me to keep up with technology. Oh yeah, we also waited in line so that he could get one of the first iPhones when it was released… ahhh, bonding times!

I’ll never forget the times we went to McAlister’s with Serena and friends, the way he was honest with me (livin’ out loud!), and his overall cheery self. JD was a good boss and is a good friend.

Where I’m at now
Well, it’s no surprise that I’m on staff at Grace. JD had started to branch out on his own with web development and ended up taking a job at Fishhook where he is the e-strategist. Not long after my internship was over with, I applied for JD’s job. It’s been an interesting journey as I look back and realize that three years have passed and all of the changes that have happened in my life (you can read about some of that here). I wish I could write more about my summer, and perhaps I will. If you peruse through the blog you’ll find bits and pieces of what’s culminated over the past three years since I was an intern.

Looking back, I had a feeling that my life was going to change that summer, I never dreamed I would be where I’m at today or have the incredible privilege to work with the people I do. The people I work with and the people of Grace Community Church are my second family. Every weekend when I go to church, I am so thankful and blessed to be here.

And for your enjoyment… some pictures from that summer.

Welcome to my second installment of "To all the cars I’ve loved before…" If you missed my awesome account of the 1988 Plymouth Reliant K Station Wagon, you can read about it by clicking here.

The second car I owned was a 1989 Ford Taurus with a 3.0L V6. My Dad had originally bought it for my brother Eric, but my Reliant K unexpectedly died and Eric was still in Florida. Don’t cry too much for my brother, he ended up getting a cool 1986 Chevrolet Camaro with t-tops, so I feel like he got a pretty sweet deal.

I had a lot of fun in that Taurus after living with a four-cylinder car for so long. In fact, I probably got pulled over more in that Taurus than any other car. Fortunately, half the time Hannah was in the passenger’s seat and I got out of getting a ticket. Don’t ask me why, but having an innocent-looking girl in the seat next to you helps. Ha ha!

I had a love-hate relationship with the Taurus. First off, I wasn’t a huge fan of the color burgundy and second, the interior was okay, but not great. It also had some weird quirks to it, like the time I tried to install my radio. I had worked so hard to take the dash off and install my stereo, only to have the stereo shut off whenever I turned my headlights on. Sure, this was probably a simple solution for a car guy to fix, but I was too lazy. So I had to be content with a cassette adapter which hooked into my DiscMan, which was soon replaced by my first iPod.

The Duct Tape Bumper

In the pictures you’re probably wondering why there’s a ton of duct tape on the front bumper. Well, me and that car had a few hard times. The front bumper was busted when I was paying more attention to an accident off to the side of the road rather than watching the road. I looked in front of me, saw a truck, and slammed on the brakes. Sadly, the Taurus’s bumper was crushed. Fortunately, I didn’t have to file an insurance claim or anything because the truck’s bumper was pretty solid and didn’t have any damage. So I took the cheap man’s way out, I used duct tape.

I also managed to bust up the rear bumper to in the winter when my Dad left a nice mound of snow behind my car. I tried backing up, but couldn’t get over the snow. I don’t know why I didn’t grab a shovel and just remove the mound of snow, but instead I grabbed some tow rope and the keys to my Dad’s 1991 Chevy Blazer. I put the Taurus and neutral and used the Blazer to pull it out. Unfortunately, I didn’t think of the fact that the Taurus had no way to stop. So, as you can guess, it hit the front bumper of the Blazer and once again, the Taurus was the only one with injuries.

The one thing I do know about the Taurus is that women didn’t date me because of my car. Ha ha! I don’t know if Christina ever loved or hated that car, but I do remember her Dad making me park it in the street so it wouldn’t leak transmission fluid on his driveway. The man was generous, he gave me two options: park it in the street or grab the drip pan and slide it under the car whenever I came over. Well, since I was over there a lot, I didn’t want to have to run in the garage and grab the drip pan every time, so I opted for the street.

The Car’s Demise

I don’t remember exactly what happened with the Taurus. I do remember that one night I hit a pothole and the CV joint broke on my front driver’s side, causing the wheel to not respond to the steering wheel. Fortunately a Sheriff drove by, we jacked up my car, kicked the wheel so it would straighten out, and then pushed it in the driveway of the group home.

Even though we fixed the CV joint, I think the big reason we got rid of that car was because of braking system and the transmission.

I miss that car. I wasn’t wild about the interior or the exterior, but it got me around and served me well… farewell dear Taurus, you truly were awesome.

I lost an old friend this week, some of you may have heard me talk about Brittany. I met Brittany when she was 14 and I was 15. It’s amazing that ten years have gone by since we’ve worked together and with each passing day, my memory starts to fade in that time of my life. But isn’t it amazing that when you really work your mind, those memories start creeping back?

As you’ve probably read in one of my older posts, Donatos was my first "real" job (you can read that post here). For some reason, I had my heart set on working at Target across the street. But Tonya, the assistant manager at Donatos, had something about her that just made me want to work at Donatos.

I have a firm belief that God works in all things. Perhaps He had a reason for me to work at Donatos and not Target. The crazy thing is that in each stage of my life, there have been people in my life who have made a significant difference and were always there when I needed them. I am so thankful that God brought me to that first job, we were family, and I LOVED it.

I told Brittany’s mom, Kathy, that I had some fun memories of Brittany and I, but that biggest thing that stood out was how well she loved me. Since Brittany and I were the youngest on the crew, we almost always worked together. Sometimes we would both work the front counter together, sometimes she’d work the front while I worked the drive-thru, other times we would clean the dining room together, or just hang out in the party room folding pizza boxes.

Some of my most favorite memories are the times when it was slow and we’d go out back, she’d smoke a cigarette and we would just sit there and talk. It was like a family affair at Donatos because Brittany, her mom, brother, and sister-in-law all worked there and they made me feel like I was part of the family.

I remember the early morning staff meetings where we’d meet in the party room, watch training videos, and Britt would sit on my lap as we’d watch them. I remember the slow times where we would talk about anything and everything while cleaning the dining room. I remember how excited she’d get about her little niece. I remember how much she hated anchovies, and after making a pizza with anchovies, I’d wipe the slime off on her shirt (yes, I was such a gentleman back then). I remember working on Christmas Eve and I brought in my CD player and she’d sing along. I’d remember us running over to Wendy’s to do a food-swap with the employees and bringing back our dinner and sitting back in the prep room with the staff hanging out. I remember the times we had to come in early and remove the conveyor belt from the oven and clean it. I remember the times she’d have me grab something from the walk-in refrigerator and lock me in.

But the biggest memory of my time at Donatos came at a painful time in my life. It was a beautiful day, I even think it was the last day of school. My mom had picked me up from school and as we sat at the stoplight in front of North Central she said, "Kiel, I’m moving to Florida." Okay…. "When?" I asked. "Tomorrow."

I tried to stay strong for my mom, but as soon as we got home, I walked on the Monon Trail straight to Donatos. I walked in the front door, through the kitchen, out the back door and just started crying my eyes out. I walked back in, found Brittany’s mom, Kathy, and just started crying in her arms. Brittany was there to console me too.

That summer was one of difficulty, but one where I felt loved. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had developed an anxiety/panic attack disorder. There would be moments when I’d feel a rush fly over my body and I’d feel the need to go throw-up in the bathroom. I had originally thought it was an allergic reaction to the ingredients and I decided that it was time for me to move on from Donatos.

After moving across the street to Marsh, I slowly began to lose touch with Brittany and Kathy. They’d occasionally come by the store to shop and I’d occasionally go to Donatos to see them. But you know how life is, we drifted apart. At first I wouldn’t see them for weeks, then months, and then years… ten years in fact.

Over the past few years I had been trying to reconnect with Brittany, looking for her on MySpace and Facebook. She never really was into those type of things, but I had a hope that someday she might want to reconnect with old friends and create a profile.

About a week-and-a-half ago I finally found her on MySpace. She hadn’t logged on in a while, but I thought if I sent her a message through the system, that they would notify her through e-mail. I thought to myself, "Hey God, maybe this is a great chance to reconnect and be a part of each other’s lives again!"

But I was disheartened on Wednesday when I logged into MySpace to see that she still hadn’t read my message. I had moved on to my other tasks of the day and eventually made my way to the obituaries on The Indianapolis Star web site. As my eyes scrolled through the names, one stood out… it was hers.

I was in disbelief, shock. I read through the obituary time and again, but there was her mother’s name, and her brother’s name. My friend, who I really wanted to see, had passed away that Sunday.

It was a little difficult for me to walk into the funeral home and see her mom, who had been like a mother to me when I worked at Donatos. But when our eyes met, we immediately recognized each other and I embraced her in an all-familiar hug. It turns out that all these years that we’ve been apart, we’ve been wondering about each other. Brittany had been wondering what I had been up to, as did Kathy. Even in the hustle and bustle of the past 10 years, I had still wondered about them.

I’m going to miss my friend Brittany and I continue to pray for her mother, Kathy. As I sat through the funeral they read 1 Corinthians 13. One word that stuck out to me during the whole funeral was the word "love." Brittany had shown me love, Kathy had shown me love, and I hope that my presence there let Kathy know that I love her very much. She has a special place in my heart.

I say all that to say this, never stop loving people. I know I talked a little bit about myself in this post, but that’s because in the midst of what I was going through, Brittany and her mother were loving me through it all. If you’re a Christian, you are commanded to love others, even more so than you are to love yourself. If you’re not a Christian, loving someone could make a tremendous impact on someone else’s life. They may not remember a whole lot about you in the years that pass, but they will remember how well you loved.

So with that, I am so thankful for the love that Brittany has shown me and I hope that Kathy knows that I will be there when she needs me… just like she was there when I needed her. I thank God for allowing Brittany to be a part of my life.

This video was taken from a local television station’s Christmas special and was filmed at the ArtsGarden in Circle Centre Mall. For reasons I can’t recall, I didn’t take part in the filming, although I was on location while they were doing it. I did, however, come back on another day and perform with the guys during a busy shopping day. I would post video of that day, but our cameraman had a hard time keeping the camera steady… thanks Uncle Larry! Ha ha!

This memory sticks out to me for a couple of reasons. One, it took place about a year after Circle Centre first opened… and for some reason, I thought that Circle Centre was the greatest thing around. Second, and most importantly, it’s time I got to spend with my Dad. I also really enjoyed hanging around these guys, it was a great time!

So having said all that, enjoy!

The drive was pretty uneventful, as we had made the trip over a month ago to go see the Cincinnati Zoo. We listened to some good music, Betsy and Faith took cat naps for part of the journey and it looked like we were on schedule.

Betsy’s friend had warned us that we might run into traffic in Cincinnati, as the part of town we had to go through was notorious for crappy traffic, but we totally didn’t expect what was about to happen.

About six miles from our destination, tummies grumbling and needing to go to the bathroom after a two-hour car ride, we came to a standstill on I-275. Now when I say standstill, I don’t mean that traffic slowly inched its way along. No, it was not moving AT ALL.

People started turning their cars off in order to save gas. Jordan and I got out to investigate. It was actually quite humorous, as it reminded me of R.E.M.’s music video for "Everybody Hurts" when, during a traffic jam, everyone gets out of the cars on the interstate and just start walking around and talking to eachother. Sadly, because of the way the median is structured on this stretch of highway, there was no way that we could simply hop on the westbound lane and drive away. There was a "turnaound" about a mile down the road, you know, the kind that you’re not supposed to use, but people do anyway. A few people took that option, but most people opted to stay in traffic, hoping and praying that it would move again.

While sitting on the middle of the interstate, I had visions. I had visions of everyone getting out of their car and having a giant dance party. I opened up all the doors and started blasting "I’ve Gotta Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas, but sadly, the idea never caught on. So after about 45 minutes of sitting in the middle of the highway and people who almost died of having to pee so bad, we finally got moving.

I read later that there was a four car chain crash that happened at the upcoming off-ramp which caused us to be stuck there so long. Apparently in Cincinnati, when one person crashes, everyone else feels like they have to join in… it must be an Ohio thing. We finally made it to our exit and ran into Wendy’s to grab a quick bite before the concert, I literally finished eating my meal as we walked up to the venue.

Fortunately we only missed an opening song or two, so I was not bummed. The concert venue is actually an old Discovery Zone that the church behind it bought and converted it into a student ministries/concert venue. Aside from people moving around so much (standing room only), I really enjoyed the place.

Leeland, Brandon Heath, and Francesca played great. They intermingled their sets, so that you got to hear everyone and didn’t get tired of one act waiting for the next one to come up. I think the one part of the concert that I really enjoyed was the part that didn’t involve music at all. They talked about a program called "Food For The Hungry" which goes into impoverished areas in the world and actually works with the people to come up with tangible solutions, not dictating what the locals should do, but listening to their ideas and partnering with them.

For example, some money went to buy seeds so that people in Cambodia could plant a field full of cucumbers. There’s really so much to this organization, that I’m actually going to write about it in another post (I’m going to sponsor a child with Food for the Hungry). So I’ll be sure to update all of you on how to get involved.

Anyway, suffice to say, it was a great concert, well worth the two-hour drive. We got stuck in traffic thinking we’d never make it to the concert, but fortunately we did and had a great time. I’ll leave all of you with this music video of Leeland’s "Follow You," with footage of their trip to Cambodia with Food for the Hungry. Enjoy!

A man’s first car is a rite of passage, a symbol of pride. For Eric Foreman of "That 70′s Show," he got a Vista Cruiser. For me? It was a 1988 Plymouth Reliant K Station Wagon. I’ve never been a big "car guy," but I do have fond memories of each vehicle I’ve owned. So I will try to tell you about each one, the first is the Reliant K Station Wagon.

Yes my friends, this is my first car and I can vaguely remember the day we got it. I remember there was a little snow on the ground (as evidenced by this picture). I don’t remember if I was excited about this purchase, unexcited, or impartial. I think part of my rationale was that "beggars can’t be choosers," and that I would have to go with whatever my Dad bought me.

It’s funny how someone can take so much pride in their first car. Yes, I had the fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror. Yes, I installed an after-market CD player and box speakers that sat in the back (covered with an afghan). But it was my first car, it allowed me to leave the comfort of the 46240 zip code and explore. In fact, I think one of the first places I went to was Donatos up on Range Line Road in Carmel to visit my old manager, Kathy. I would even drive all the way up to Greyhound Pass (which seemed far for me) to grab some White Castle. Ahh… those were the days.

The car itself was in pretty good shape, except for the torn headliner and the air conditioning didn’t work. It had a bench seat in the front and in the back, with the back seat able to fold down. The car had it’s factory radio, but I took that out and put in a Sony Xplod CDX-4000 along with two tweeter speakers in the front dash. I think I was most excited about the stereo. It wasn’t the best on the market, but I could program in the station names and if the CDs I played had CD-Text enabled, it would show the song/artist playing. For a small car, it actually sounded pretty good without needing an amp.

Instead of replacing the speakers in the back, I unwired them and put two 12" MTX box speakers back there. They fit well behind the back seat and I put one of my great-grandma’s afghans to cover them… corny, I know. But you know what? That afghan actually fit in with the vehicles colors!

My First Accident

You’re probably wondering about my first accident. It’s actually kind of funny that I can remember a lot about that night. I was coming home from my friend Rick’s house and was approaching the 75th and College Avenue intersection. It was raining and appropriately, Dido’s "Thank You" was playing on my radio… well, it was either DIdo or Enya’s "Orinoco Flow," something stupid like that. The stop light was flashing red for me, I looked both ways, but as soon as I drove into the intersection, this truck comes barreling into the intersection and smashed into a tree. My heart was pounding as I pulled over, the truck was smoking and I called out to the guy to ask if he was alright. "My truck is f**king totaled, and you’re asking if I’m alright?!"

After a few minutes, he calmed down and the police and fire department came. My Dad came out to help me deal with being in my first "accident." I don’t remember exactly what the outcome of that accident was, I can’t remember if I was claimed at-fault or not.

I can’t remember if I had any other accidents in that car. I do remember trying to back the car into the garage and the passenger-side mirror ripped off… which sent me to my first experience with a junk yard to find a new mirror, ha ha!

The Car’s Demise

It’s been probably eight years since I’ve had this car and I remember its share of problems. I’m almost positive that this was the car that had problems with the fan belt. I would be driving home from Ivy Tech and I’d be stopped at the intersection of 38th and Meridian Street with the fan belt squealing. It’s always fun to have a pedestrian let you know what the problem with your car is.

But the car’s ultimate demise was a cracked radiator or something like that… shows how long it’s been. But it was a good first car, one that I wasn’t too worried about wrecking. Aside from the mirror coming off, the car body was still in good shape when we donated it to Goodwill.

 So long 1988 Plymouth Reliant K Station Wagon… you were an excellent first car.