That Old Car Might Not Be Worth It

Just when you think everything's going along fine, your husband's car breaks down on the tollway during a blizzard.

Yup.  That's what happened.  Last Monday, in another episode of Worst Winter Ever, the meteorologists warned that by the afternoon, the area would be threatened with heavy snow and dangerous whiteout conditions.  The evening commute would be a disaster.  Bruce's boss  (who didn't come in to work that day) called and told him he could leave early to avoid it.  So, around lunchtime, he called me to let me know he was coming home.

It had just started snowing like crazy.  So crazy in fact that I couldn't see the buildings behind our house, maybe 100 yards away.  "Be careful," I said to Bruce.  "It's really bad out here already."  I looked at the clock - it was 11:45 am.  Considering the effect the snow would have on the roads, Bruce should be home by 12:30 pm at the latest.

At 11:58, Bruce called.  "Hey," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.  "The car broke down.  I'm on I-88 on the side of the road."

To which I replied, "Whaaaaaat!"

Recently, a tollway worker was killed and a police officer was critically injured on about the same stretch of the road when they were trying to help a stalled car.  A semi truck smashed into them.  This is one of many stories we've been hearing of people getting struck while on the shoulder.  We've heard so many in the media lately that I had recently commented to Bruce, "Heaven help anyone who gets stuck on the side of the tollway!  It seems like everyone gets hit."

Of course that was on my mind as Bruce sat, helpless, in his dead car while the snow swirled wildly around, making visibility almost impossible.  Apparently the car just died while he was in the middle lane.  All the dashboard lights suddenly went on, and that was it.  Luckily, there were few cars on the road at the time, and he was able to cruise the car over before it stopped completely.

It wasn't an option to take Emmie out in that weather to rescue Bruce.  Fortunately, Bruce's dad was home, not too far away.  As soon as Bruce called, Dad got in his SUV.  What should have been a 20 minute drive turned into 45 long minutes.  Bruce felt terrible that he had to subject his father to the perilous conditions, but his dad managed to find Bruce's car.

During this time, I had been freaking out.  I felt completely useless.  I paced the floors of the house, wondering what was happening and praying my husband and his dad would be okay.  I just wanted them to come home.  A part of me knew they'd be fine, but I couldn't help worrying about the worst.

Bruce and his dad tried putting oil in the car, but that didn't work. The car just wouldn't start.  Bruce called our insurance's emergency roadside assistance, and they called a tow truck.  The tow truck company told Bruce he could leave the key in the ignition and he could leave.  So Bruce and his dad started making their way home.

They made it here safely.  I almost burst into tears as they opened the door, wet from snow and stomping it off their shoes.

Then the tow truck driver called to say he wouldn't come out because of the terrible weather conditions.  Imagine - a tow truck driver refusing to pick up cars!  I can't say I blame him, though.  By that time it was an absolute mess out there.  He has his safety to think about, too.

Bruce called our insurance company again and they called around, but no one would agree to get the car.  The insurance company told Bruce that he could call the transportation department, who would send out one of their trucks for a fee.  It's the same tow trucks that retrieve abandoned cars and haul them to the pound.  We were told we would be reimbursed for $100 of the expenses.

So he did, and the transportation department was kind enough to bring our car to our house, rather than the impound lot.  However, they warned that it could be hours before someone would bring it back, and the cost would be $160 plus mileage.

Two hours later, the tow truck pulled up with our old clunker.  They dumped the car all crooked in our driveway, like the car is on display in all its crappy glory.  We had to pay $250 for it.  I felt sick.

Taped mirror, broken off handles, busted up bumpers - Sitting pretty against the front of the house.

What should we do about this piece of junk?  It seems like since Bruce's parents gave it to us in 2010, all we've been doing is repairing it.  It's 14 years old, after all.  Half of the car handles are broken.  It's completely unreliable at this point.

Should we repair it yet again?  Kelley Blue Book valued it around $800-$900.  We've already had to pay $150 this time, after reimbursement.  Is it worth it to figure out a way to haul it to an auto repair shop and have them diagnose it?

In Chicagoland, there's been a local commercial running for decades on daytime television.  It's famous for its 1970's corniness with the guy's bell bottom pants, his hair, and the olive green boat with the busted door.  Everyone knows the line, "That old car might be worth money."  Here it is:

My thinking is that we should call around and get quotes for a company like Victory Auto Wreckers to take the car away for cash and use the money to pay off some credit card debt.  I've been reading other blogs where the family only has one car.  It wouldn't be ideal, but we could make it work.  When the weather gets nicer, Emmie and I can go for walks or maybe bicycle rides (if I ever get that bike attachment I've been wanting forever) to get out of the house.  My teaching schedule isn't very intense this year.  I only have to travel one or two times a week.  Bruce could look into carpooling with his coworkers, and we could also start taking him to work a few times a week.  I wish we were in a financial place where we could trade this car in for a newer one, but we aren't.  We don't have enough savings, and we simply can't afford two car payments right now, until we pay down debt or earn more money.

We've driven this car into the ground.  Even if we find the money to fix it this time, what's to say that something scary won't happen again?  I don't want Bruce to be at risk.

It looks like it's time to say goodbye.  Part of me will also be thinking, "Good riddance."