The Fond Story of “Black Jack”

In 1993, when my husband and I first started out together on Long Island in New York, we scraped together enough money to purchase our first car. It was a new model Geo Prizm with 21 miles on it, the most expensive thing we had ever bought. We loved its sleek black color and gentle curves, and affectionately called it “Black Jack” for good luck.

For the next 19 years, Black Jack accompanied us on our life’s journey, playing a part in our engagement and marriage, the birth of our two children, high-speed trips to local ERs, fun-filled family vacations, first days of school, concerts and sporting events, graduations, and even moving from one place to another.

To us, Black Jack was an important family member, and our love for it only grew through time. It got an annual checkup just like we did. We diligently washed it, cleaned it, and garaged it. Every time we arrived at a destination, I would pat it and give it praise. “Good job, Black Jack.”

The car aged with grace. To this day, I can still remember every dent and scrape on it, each marked with a special story involving a falling tree branch or a runaway shopping cart. Then came the time when Black Jack could no longer be our reliable travel companion. I was heartbroken. We made an important decision to donate it to benefit a worthy charity cause, American Humane Society.

When a truck came to tow it away, my flowing tears formed a curtain in front of me. I was overcome with emotion. Goodbye, Black Jack. I’ll always keep you in my heart! I promised. I stood by the road in frigid air, still waving long after it was gone.

To my surprise and comfort, my new car came with a license plate containing the numbers 3, 6, 3, which in Chinese means “Separation, Happy, Separation.” I felt it was a message of love from Black Jack so I named my new car “Silver Jackie.”

Sometimes I laugh, thinking how I foolishly developed such a deep bond with a car, knowing that a machine is not capable of sharing emotions or transmitting a secret message to me. Nevertheless, my heart brims with love whenever I think of Black Jack, even after all these years.

Black Jack also taught me a lot about life. How it endured wear and tear through the years reminded me to protect myself. I’m not a machine, and yet, my body ages just like one. My life depends on taking care of myself, avoiding or fixing the little dents and scrapes of existence as best I can, and enjoying the ride. On behalf of myself, my family, and the lessons I learned from a very wise car, I wish all my readers a happy and healthy new year!

Reflections From The East Column

By Qin Sun Stubis

You can always reach me at qstubis@gmail.com, or please visit me at www.QinSunStubis.com. You can find a copy of my book, Once Our Lives, online at Amazon.com