Under the trees, with the birds chirping in the distance, these faithful servants are called upon no more.
The cars here have their stories, unable to be communicated with people who visit them today.
Each car and truck was driven to its new home brand new from the dealer, its new owner brimming with pride, the neighbors coming over to admire it and congratulate the owner on their acquisition.
The cars here took people to work, on vacations, to the hospital, to sporting events. Serious conversations took place inside them. They sat faithfully in the driveways and parking lots, waiting to serve.
They represented their owners' tastes, sensibilities, and lifestyles. These workhorses were how people knew their owners were at home, or at work, or at a friends' house: because they were parked outside, waiting patiently.
They were posessed by multiple owners, each transfer shedding a measure of lustre, each owner aging these devoted workhorses more, until the time came when they were no longer needed.
Cast aside, here they sit, never to move again, their stories untold, their service to their owners forgotten.
Many sketches, drawings, models and mock-ups were made to create what would become iconic, rolling art pieces that competed for the dollars of American consumers.
Everything from the font of the badging that would identify them, to the logo, to the placement of chrome trim was carefully considered.
These cars would be the pride of their creators, celebrated in advertisements, commercials, and auto expositions, where people would flock to see these exciting new designs for the first time.
Now, under the solitude of a quiet forest, with a bed of pine needles cushioning the feet of the visitors who come to admire them in their twilight years, these workhorses are at rest at last, their stories unable to be told.
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