It wasn't a very fancy car. When I bought it, I wanted something reliable, something I could count on. My husband had just started his own mining contracting company and was often out of town on job sites. So, I needed a vehicle that wouldn't let me down. It was a 1987 Toyota Camry and I drove it for almost 20 years.
The first few years that I owned it I drove all over the lower mainland. I was the "go-fer" for the company and if they needed something I would "go for it". We were new to the Vancouver area so I got lost a lot but eventually I knew my way to our suppliers. There was Nelson Machinery here in North Vancouver. That was easy to find. But trips to Delta to companies supplying barges (for our Queen Charlotte Islands, now Haida Gwaii, job) or to Surrey for motors or parts for motors for our project just off the top of the Coquihalla, often took longer than necessary as I went in one direction and than another to find my way.
The trunk carried steel toe mining boots, first aid supplies, slickers, parts for the ball mill! On one trip we had to tie drill steel to the outside of the Camry as it didn't fit inside. I drove home slowly that day with red warning flags flapping against the car.
After several years of being the "go-fer" I decided it was time to forge my own career. My trusty Camry and I went up and down the hill to Simon Fraser University in good weather and bad as I pursued my teaching degree. My first year after completing my PDP (Post Degree Program), I was an on-call teacher for both the Vancouver and North Vancouver School Districts. I travelled at least three days a week to different schools in Vancouver and never visited the same school twice!
One day I was on call in a kindergarten class in the Champlain Heights neighbourhood, just off Rupert Street. At the end of the day, I was appalled when I approached my car to see it had been scratched all over from hood to trunk and roof to the bottom of the car doors. Who would do such a thing? I couldn't have irritated some Grade 7 bad boy, as I was teaching little kindergarteners. The abuser was not found and my poor car received a total new paint job courtesy of the Vancouver School District. It was six years old but looked brand new.
A year later the same thing happened at Ridgeway Elementary School in North Vancouver. And again, my car received a new coat of paint.
You would think that was enough repainting for my trusty Camry, but, alas, that was not so. And the next incident was far more serious.
One fall evening my 16-year-old daughter wanted to borrow the car to meet up with some friends. They drove to the cemetery behind Capilano University, which I learned later was a common spot for teenagers to meet. While they were there sitting among the gravestones two carloads of young thugs from Vancouver drove up behind my Camry. They took out their knives, threatened the North Vancouver teens and began scratching my car. When one of the boys tried to stop them, they stabbed him instead.
At this point the gang retreated and my daughter, who was trained in first aid, realized her friend needed to go to the hospital immediately. They put him in the car and sped to Lions Gate Hospital. He was rushed into surgery and the doctor later said if the knife wound had been one half inch to the side it would have pierced his heart and he would have died. Fortunately, he fully recovered.
When the police returned my car, it was covered in black finger printing dust and again hundreds of scratches. Until they heard the story, the guys at the paint shop laughed when I pulled into their yard. I guess I gave them a few stories to tell about the Camry that was repainted three times in five years!
Lew Lew
June 2024
Not mine but a typical 1987 Toyota Camry
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