Little Blue Car

I need to do some more research on this one.

Jeremey Sorensen owned a little blue car. I believe it belonged to Sister Ethyl Perkins. Brother Lou Rotar bought it from her and gave it to Jeremey, I think.

I found the picture (left) of a 1953 Ford Anglia that reminds me of his car. The color is very close. Kristin Hughes, at the time, had a Honda Hatchback that looked very much like the one above (right). Both cars were rusty pieces of junk. The biggest difference was their top speed.

Jeremey would come over on a daily basis. When his car was running he would drive it. If not, he would walk. This particular day was a sunny, summer afternoon. Kristin and I were at his house playing Nintendo. Jeremey pulled up in his car. He had been to my house looking for me and someone, probably my mother, pointed him in the right direction. His showing up made Kristin mad. We were planning on an evening of Cornucopia fries and more Nintendo. We already had JP and Lightning coming over. Kristin did not want the deaf kid hanging around.

This is where I insert my aside note. I always enjoyed Jeremey's puppy-dog loyalty and companionship. Daily, he would come over to "play" with me. I liked Jeremey. I thought it was neat to have a deaf friend. We had fun together. He didn't care what we did. He didn't care what I was doing. Most days I took Jeremey for granted, then he would go home. Some days he went home because his Mom needed him home. Some days he would go home because I told him it was time. Some days he would go home because I ditched him or tricked him. Some days he would go home because I ignored him until he got bored and frustrated. Usually, if there was anything going on that seemed more promising and fun than Jeremey, I would choose it over him.

Kristin and the Cornucopia were more promising that afternoon. I told Jeremey that we were going to a friends house and that he should come along. He asked where we were going. I explained to him that he didn't know the house. He asked to ride in the Honda with us. I told him there was no room. He would have to follow in his little blue car.

Kristin's Honda, with me in the passenger seat, did about 50 mph south on Lincoln Blvd. Looking over my shoulder I could see Jeremey coming along behind. As we turned right onto Ophir Rd., Jeremey followed. We were heading for Hwy 70, laughing all the way, as the blue dot in the rear view mirror dissapeared. Kristin hit 75 mph on the Highway knowing well that Jeremey would be lucky to max out at 50 mph. We went to Taco Bell ensuring that Jeremey would never find us. He didn't.

I was a smooth signer (talker). When Jeremey came by the following day I explained to him that we had turned around to try to find him and even pulled over to wait for him to catch up, but we did not want to be late so we went on with out him. Sorry. In character, with a goofy smile, he limply slapped me on the back and signed "No problem". I could do no wrong in his eyes, and I knew it.