Remembering With Love His Late Belv

Rip Rense just brought back some fond memories through his account of Krazy Kar (“To Judge Him By His Car Would Be, Uh, Krazy” Jan. 10).

I’ve had several beater cars over the last 10 years, including “The Beast,” which nearly killed me in a freak driverless accident.

But my most cherished memory is of Belv. Belv, a blue 1967 Plymouth Belvedere four door, was simply the greatest car ever made. The dents, the gutless engine, the broken door handles all added to the character.

Belv was an extension of me; Belv gave me an identity. In Santa Barbara where I lived, it was easily recognizable. Many people would say they saw me, only to later admit they saw Belv.

Belv parked with easily detachable bike racks, unlocked doors and a working Alpine Stereo lying freely on the passenger floor. All these remained untouched. (Carjackers and thieves have their standards.)

Alas, on Thanksgiving Day, 1992, Belv passed away by throwing two rods. My only remnants are pictures, the glove box and a T-shirt with Belv’s picture on it.

MICHAEL TAKEUCHI, Santa Barbara