Thanksgiving: Part 3

On the way home to Provo from Gilbert, Arizona, good old Cecil (our car) decided to have a mega oil leak and a big hole burned in his engine. We don't know why this happened. We were stranded a couple miles south of Page, where Lake Powell is.

Where we were when Cecil died.

It was very cold.

So we got towed away and had to stay at a Motel 6 for the evening. Since Cecil was pretty much worthless, we decided it was time for him to go to his grave. Eric, Steve's brother, came and rescued us. Together, we gave Cecil a proper farewell.

Cecil O. Samuelson, the car. So beautiful. So peaceful.





Eric giving a drum roll and Steve giving an eloquent speech.



To end the ceremony, we each ran across the top of Cecil. Even though it wouldn't be respectful for us to run atop of our dead, it is much different with cars. It's quite symbolic, really.

Goodbye Cecil. Goodbye.