Classic

     I couldn’t help but admire this Ford F1 parked outside a barbecue smoke house near our home. The only things holding it together are rust and memories.
     When this model rolled off the assembly line, it provided wheels for my parents’ generation that was piecing together lives after World War II. The sprightly pickup first hauled drivers on dirt roads, then interstates, then clogged beltways. It’s taken travelers uphill and down on stock market rides. It’s watched passengers tran...