Author’s Note: Yes, I did write about this van once before, but the story to tell keeps growing.
Sitting in the surgical waiting room, time was creeping. The anticipated timeframe had passed with absolutely no word at all. Sitting there alone in that small hospital in Hannibal was excruciating.
The doctor soon appeared, still wearing his surgical scrubs. “Mr. Shafer, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Your wife is out of surgery and will soon be waking up. I wanted to come visit with you myself.” This was not a sign of good news.
Sighing, he said: “I’ve been a gynecologist for thirty years; your wife has one of the worst cases of endometriosis I’ve ever seen. I’m sorry, she needs more help than I can provide for her; it’s not life-threatening, but it greatly affects her quality of life as you well know. There are several doctors I can refer you to.”
Such was the beginning of our journey to purchasing this 2000 Ford E-150, a vehicle with which I have had quite the tumultuous relationship.
After a second and less than ideal surgical experience in St. Louis, we knew we could do better. Indeed, Mrs. Jason did find better with a physician who specialized in endometriosis and had a wealth of international references to back his statements, as well as a text book on the subject. There was only one minor obstacle: He was located in Bend, Oregon.
image source: Bend, Oregon Tourist Information
To clarify, his being in Bend wasn’t the obstacle; transporting a post-operative female half-way across the continent was the obstacle. Abdominal surgery is not as forgiving as some other types of operations.
Do we fly? She would not be overly mobile, I would have to transport luggage at some point while aiding her, and she would need assistance to regularly use the restroom. That’s a problem.
Do we take the train? There was an Amtrack station twenty minutes from us in Hannibal, but the route took a person very far east before going west. It would necessitate four to five days on the train, with its gentle and constant bobbing back and forth. That is not good for sore innards plus we would still have to change trains, so it was getting comparable to the airport.
Do we drive? The biggest vehicle we had at the time was my ’01 Crown Victoria. While it was quite ready for the task, it still would not allow Mrs. Jason to spread out as required nor would there be room for both Spawn and Mrs. Jason’s mother. My mother-in-law was a necessity of sorts as my wife would still need help getting to the restroom and my helping her into public toilets would be problematic regardless of mode of travel.
Practical people that we are, we opted to buy a used conversion van. The cost wasn’t too much more than airline tickets plus rental car for a week and we could still sell the van when we returned. Our goal was to make as much lemonade from this bushel of lemons as was possible; the travel was also several good learning opportunities for Spawn. We even determined our route based upon maximizing the number of national parks we could visit. Plan of attack identified!
The appointment in Bend was finalized in mid-June; we had to be there on August 10. We had no transportation.
We looked at, and drove, a bunch of vans. These cream puffs had all sorts of ailments – from bad differentials to loose steering columns with many being thoroughly trashed on the inside.
I quickly came to the conclusion that buying a used conversion van was about like buying a used mattress from a low-buck motel – you didn’t know who had been doing what in, on, and around it. It was that certain “ick” factor that all of them possessed and I could not envision ourselves driving any of them the 1,900 miles from Hannibal, Missouri (our home at the time), to Bend.
One night after I half-jokingly suggested either buying an old limousine or bolting a recliner to the floor of a cargo van, Mrs. Jason stayed up looking on e-Bay. As I’m almost asleep, she bursts into the bedroom.
“I think I found one. It’s a 2000 Ford and the auction ends tomorrow. I just called the owners – they are just over an hour west of here – and they said we could come look at it tomorrow at 2 pm. The auction ends at 5.”
We went to look and they let us drive it, even organizing it with blankets, pillows, and foot rests that a post-operative woman would need to get comfortable. Mrs. Jason fell in love with the seats, which to her are the next best thing to a recliner. Mrs. Jason says it is quite comfortable and is luxurious in a Packard-esque sense; luxury used to be defined to a degree on basic comfort and room, not how many electronic gadgets there are.
This wonderful couple was retired, they were the second owners, and they had only used it for vacations. It was equipped with the 5.4 liter V8, had 89,000 miles, and it was as close to cherry on the inside as could be. This couple had purchased it on e-Bay from the first owner who had also only used it for recreational purposes. Despite our not being wild about being the third owners, we both knew this was by far the best of anything and this couldn’t pass us by. It was profoundly clean and drove like new.
Getting back home, we bid and trump the high bidder. We still didn’t meet the reserve, although we were willing to go higher. The auction ended without it being purchased. Ten minutes later I called the owner and we quickly negotiated a price. It was $500 less than we were willing to spend, and $300 below their reserve, so we did well.
Picking it up the next day, we learned a competing bidder had been calling them all day before the close of the auction. The wife of the selling couple said, “We didn’t like them; we like you two. We wanted you to have it for your trip to Oregon, so we never answered the phone for those other people. Tough shit for them.”
After getting home with it, I spent the next few days getting the front end aligned, changing the spark plugs, and replacing the brake pads on the front. The pads had about one-third left, but I figured as I would be driving it through the mountains I would rather use the first third than the last third.
The trip to Bend was terrific and the van ran flawlessly; it even averaged 18 mpg with a high of 19.5. The trip was well worth the trouble and helped minimize the foreboding undertones. We all knew the return would be less carefree.
One day while driving west around dusk, somewhere on US 20 west of Craters of the Moon National Monument in southern Idaho, the biggest elk in North America jumped in front of us. Had I been one second earlier the outcome would have been catastrophic. When one is sitting in an E-150, it is scary to be eye-level with an animal’s ass – it was that big. It was also comforting to have new brake pads. Did I mention this van has anti-lock brakes?
After our arrival in Bend, my in-laws flew into Redmond and helped for the four days we stayed post-surgery. The trip back was where the van further exposed its practicality and utility; Mrs. Jason could spread out in the back with her feet propped on a cooler, recline the seat, and relax. Five people could spread out with all their crap. For the circumstances, this van was the ideal vehicle. My admiration was short lived.
Three days after arriving home, I announced my desire to sell the van. It is roundly vetoed by Mrs. Jason.
Three weeks after arriving home, I proclaimed my ambition to sell the van. It was resoundingly vetoed. At this point is when I disclosed I could not stand the thing and wanted nothing to do with it. There was still no agreement.
Not all conversion vans were produced with the highest quality, with some being backyard upgrades. Many of the reputable companies that made, or are still making, them are in Indiana; not this one. This one was proudly produced by Osage Industries, a company based about fifteen miles east of Jefferson City. As an aside, the company still makes ambulances and they are pretty decent ones. This van does not have any obvious quality issues.
A quick google search reveals an abundance of horror stories about the inherent danger of conversion vans, primarily due to raised roofs and some (but not this one) being built without safety glass. Thinking this was my hook, I again announced my desire to sell it. No dice. My argument on its dangers evolved over the next several months. I wanted it gone.
During an extended conversation on why the stupid thing needed to be sold (my constant references to it as “stupid”, “the big oaf”, and “my forty-five hundred pound hemorrhoid” likely didn’t help my case) I suddenly realized why I despised the thing so much. Its very presence reminded me of every unpleasant event that led up to our having bought the damn thing. It represented everything that had caused my wife and I to realize a life much different than we had envisioned, a life that did not allow for a number of very important things we both desired. My condemnation of it was not financial; this van had become the embodiment of all the derailments and curveballs that life had thrown us regarding my wife’s health and the results thereof. It was a very strong resentment, so strong I did not care to be in or around that van. To me, it did not exist. Why should it? Other than a seven day trip west, it had brought no joy into my life.
Finding a somewhat peaceful middle ground about the stupid thing (see, there I go again) I learn there is to be a huge restructuring and downsizing at my employer. This was in May of 2011; in September 2011, I am reassigned 115 miles southwest to the state capital.
image source: www.wikipedia.org
In January 2012, Mrs. Jason and Spawn moved to Jefferson City. Being in temporary housing with inadequate parking, we store the van at our house in Hannibal. The van then alternated between the garage and a nearby storage unit until March 2013 as it took us nearly 20 months to get a perfectly good house sold. During this time, I missed the van not one single bit. Oh, we have a van? Huh, I guess we do. I missed it like I would a boil on my ass. In March of this year we took the van to my in-laws house in yet another attempt to refresh the house and lure in a buyer. It sat at my in-laws house until September of this year.
Okay, so maybe this is where I need to give the blasted thing a little credit. We had not driven the dumb thing any distance in over 18 months. Hell, the license plates had expired in July 2012 and it hadn’t even been started until I renewed them just before taking it to my in-laws house nine months later. During the first six months it sat at my in-laws, it had twice been driven to St. Louis, a little over an hour away. I would sometimes drive it a few miles during our occasional visit there. It wasn’t exactly limbered up when I fetched it for a trip to Huntsville, Alabama, in late September – a 1,200 mile round trip.
Again, the damn thing was flawless. Why is it the vehicle I dislike the most is probably the most stone-cold reliable I have ever owned? I don’t want to think about it. Besides, after our trip, it went back to the in-laws house where it was delightfully ignored until the first week of November, when this happened…
My old girl got sick. She needed attention, so I hauled it back to where she had been revived from the dead. Realizing I could make use of an otherwise empty rental trailer for the return trip, I started pondering the possibilities, which led to…
Wouldn’t you know it? The bastard did it again. Let it sit for six or seven weeks, hook on a 2,500 pound trailer loaded with a 5,500 pound pickup, start it up, and drive it the 100 plus miles back. It did so at 60 mph without a whimper and on stale gasoline. Oh, and yes, it was overloaded according to Ford’s towing guide, but it has a higher towing rating than the pickup due to its larger engine and being two-wheel drive.
As I type this, recollecting various events with this van, I’m massaging my temples. This van truly makes my head hurt, but maybe I’m thinking about when I whacked my head on the bottom of the back doors after checking the air in the spare tire. Or maybe it’s because Mrs. Jason and I suspect we may be using it for its original purpose again. Maybe Mrs. Jason knew we weren’t finished with it. She is a very smart woman, somebody who constantly amazes me, and is even more perceptive than I am. However, I hope she is wrong about needing it for that again.
I own a conversion van. A big, tacky, lumbering oaf of an oversized pain in the ass piece of transportation in a horrid fleet white with acres of gaudy tape down both sides and all over the ass end of it. A van with seats that say “Flexsteel” on them. A van that my wife and Spawn adore and have nicknamed “Dream Boat”, a van I have nicknamed a whole host of derogatory names. A van I may possibly end up owning for the next twenty years.
Excuse me; I need an aspirin.
Gotta be honest Mr. Shafer, I think I understand exactly where you are coming from with your feelings for the van, but as these things go, It’s not that bad looking! Hell, I’d buy the thing from you if your wife would part with it and I had a little bigger discretionary fund. I’m thinking seriously about purchasing a “Big Oaf” such as this but am terrified of full size van quality in general…At least I’ve now heard something decent about one!
Oh, hope the wife is OK!
Thanks for the story!
I understand your love-hate (or is it hate-hate?) relationship with this van. I too have some sort of inborn disdain for conversion vans. I had a 94 Club Wagon that served as our main vehicle for over ten years and 140K miles. I absolutely loved it. It was so wonderfully, supremely comfortable and roomy for family travel. But I had been insistent on finding a version that was a passenger van from the factory.
I have sort of come around a bit, because these can be bought so reasonably when used. These are probably the biggest bargains in used cars, because they are so horribly, horribly out of style. And they are often owned by retirees whose other car is a Grand Marquis. See what I’m doing – talking myself into one of these. Actually, I have been kicking myself for several years for giving up on mine when it needed a differential rebuilt.
I guess all you can do is focus on the fact that you have a mighty fine Ford truck to drive, and one that the family loves. And in the world of conversion vans, this one is actually quite tasteful in my view. Also, I’m jealous of your gas mileage – my 94 with the older 351 Windsor and a 3:55 axle never, ever got over 16 mpg on the highway.
And I do hope that you and Mrs. Jason do not need to put it back into “private ambulance” duty.
Thank you. Beauty is usually only skin deep, so I keep reminding myself the bones of this van are where the true good stuff lies. The 5.4 is an amazing engine in regards to being smooth and efficient; I wish my pickup had this engine. As someone said the other day, the front suspension is as complicated as a pitch-fork. Not a bad combination.
You are right about who owned this van; the couple kept their pickup in the barn and this van was in the garage next to a Buick Park Avenue. The first owners were retired also and it was sold when the husband died.
At the gas station yesterday, I thought of your ’94 when I spotted a newer XLT Premium with the cloth captains chairs and rear bench. It didn’t look so bad.
I had almost the same thing w/ the 300 straight six. I moved a van load of furniture from Indiana to Central Florida around 8 years ago. I had my own illness story because when I got back home I got the flu probably from being run down and the best thing was the van ran flawless. Unbolting the conversion seats was a PITA, but I got it done.
An inverse Moby Dick.
You have an F-150 SuperCrew, 4×4 with the 4.6? Up here in MN, SD, IA, NE, etc. that borders on sacrilege!
Yes, I’m a non-conformist.:)
I acquired it used and it came from Indianapolis. With Ford having an engine call out under the F-150 tag on the front fender, I have been keeping an eye out for others and I’ve only seen two or three others like it.
It might be the 231 cid V6 powered ’76 LeSabre of our time.
Who cares about the van, how’s your wife?
If you still loathe ‘The Great White Hemorrhoid’ then I have a mental solution for you – give it to your wife and think of it as ‘her car’. Seriously, sign the title over to her. Then expend a little love, some aftermarket parts and lots of hand waxing on ‘your car’. Maybe that ’61 Ford can use a new 428 Cobra Jet.
Ask her to park the van out of sight, insist she use it for all her vehicular chores, & pay for the gas and insurance…
Thank you; we will soon be finding out more on how she’s doing.
Since I’ve returned the van, she has not yet driven it. Go figure. So it’s parked out of sight and I don’t have to think about it. When I pulled it out for these pictures is the only time its seen daylight in two weeks.
This story grabbed me a little more than normal as my wife is post-op Houston’s St. Lukes Episcopal Hospital and will be there until at least tomorrow. Living in Conroe I don’t need a van but I did have one. Like Jesse53 mine was a 300 six in a van with this basic size. It was a cargo van and I worked on the interior so that it had an installed passenger seat, insulation etc. I sold it when I became a teacher so it’s been gone a long time but I can’t lose the memory. It was fun.
You probably have a number of readers who would like to have your problem. I understand where you are coming from as my wife’s health problems have shaped some of my likes, dislikes, and purchases. I hope it outlives your disdain.
Park it, keep a trickle charger on it and put Stabil in the tank. It’s paid for and it is a true Interstate Cruiser. Plan long driving family vacations on purpose.
If I had to choose between my 2004 F150 Heritage with the 4.6V8 standard cab and bench seat and this E150 with the 5.4V8 and recliner like high back seats for the 2000 mile towing job I did this summer bringing one 1967 Mustang home, I would choose your van in a heartbeat. Even with me paying for the gas.
Would have been much more comfortable, quiet, and relaxing.
Noooooo, you do not put a trickle charger on a vehicle you are storing, that will kill the battery quicker than letting it go dead. It can also cause corrosion of the area surrounding the battery.
If you are storing a vehicle what you want is a battery maintainer that cycles on and off or holds the voltage at 13.6~13.8v rather than the 14.2~15v a trickle charger will pump through a battery. Your battery and vehicle will thank you.
Forgive me, through I know the difference I sometimes use the terms interchangeably. I have a “smart” charger on my scooter.
Depends upon what you mean by trickle charger. You are correct that you want the float voltage of the charger to be under the gassing voltage (14.2-14.5V depending upon temperature) of the battery.
I like the Schumacher SE-1-12S-CA battery maintainer myself:
http://www.amazon.com/Schumacher-SE-1-12S-CA-Automatic-Onboard-Battery/dp/B0000AXTUY
Looks relatively discreet compared to earlier conversion vans. And since your daughter loves it so much, tell her it can be her first car!
She may just take me up on that!
According to what Eric posted recently its barely broken in theres still 1.1million miles left in it
You are a good man JS, and guys like us who have perceptive wives need to count our blessings and trust the hidden truths that they don’t tell us…
And we need to use our manly talent for compartmentalization to separate our transportation from our interesting vehicle from our special purpose tool.
I’ve hauled Granny (my Mom, even I call her Granny now) back and forth to the hospital in our Caravan, no huge distances though.
At least being in MO you’ve got space for storage. Best wishes for Mrs JS
Thank you.
Compartmentalization is definitely the right thing to do and I do realize my opinion of this vehicle is somewhat irrational. All in all it has done everything ever asked of it and it has had a lot of demands made of it. What more can one expect?
It looks like a good van and since its given no trouble I’d likely keep it no having to hire things to tow large loads carry large objects or need motels while travelling, just stick it in a corner untill it needed.
Flexsteel seats? Kinda like Recaros for fat people!!
I’d still rock this van though. I have a soft spot from years of being chauffeured around in Ford Aerostars as a kid. Coupled with the the two Dodge Conversion Vans my aunt had, I guess i could say i come from a a van-family. Even today i still think it would be bitchin’ to roll around in a 70’s van complete with shag carpet and all the kitschy accouterments that go along with.
Some cars you just keep I got quoted $400 to fit a towbar to my Citroen but for $200 I got a towbar already attached to a Nissan Sentra wagon with air steer power window remote alarm etc it will save pulling the guts out of my Hillman fetching firewood.
i like this site because it’s about more than just the nuts and bolts of cars.
here’s my suggestion: think of the van like an umbrella. you have an umbrella to PREVENT rain. everyone knows the day you forget your umbrella, it rains. as long as you keep the van, you won’t need it for it’s original purpose.
Great perspective! Best wishes for Mrs Jason
Very moving story; thanks for sharing.
BTW, what did you think of Oregon, family issue notwithstanding?
I loved it! I had been there once before in ’95 in the northern part of the state. While the wife hasn’t embraced the idea, I have tossed out the idea of moving there. She and I do have different perspectives on the state, but she did like the high desert area of Bend and she still wants to walk through the lava tubes south of town. Plus, for the hospitals I’ve seen, St. Charles had the best views from its rooms!
Thanks for sharing, and parts of that were absolutely hilarious. I must profess a liking for these vans but do not want to have to keep one around if you know what I mean and I think that you do. Maybe if I had land, a barn and several other outbuildings, then maybe I could tuck it away somewhere…Good luck to you and your wife. And the van.
You know, half of what makes it look so awful is the fact that it’s white and has that tape. Strip off the tape and get it repainted. A darker color would help. And try to think of it as not a reminder of a tough time but a loyal friend who made your wife comfortable during a tough time. Might work.
I started a story entitled, “Can You Really Love A Van?”, then discovered that you cover these issues with this story. Thanks.
I struggled to find words to describe my lack of affection for them, but all I can come up with is – vans are no fun. Even when I see sporty, customized ones that are obviously meant for fun – I don’t feel it.
We need vans. I have a bunch of little kids. Our van is a vital part of our garage. However it is my wife that keeps the van in the family, not me. I drive our van only when I absolutely have to. Often it has been literally a freezing winter night and I will walk right by the warm garaged van to scrap snow off the other vehicles to run an errand.
I really can’t yet figure out why I dislike them – but I do.
I know the feeling! I don’t drive our Odyssey except maybe on the weekend one time. But when I have to drive it on a vacation trip, I marvel at how car-like it is, how well it handles for its size, and wonder how a 4500lb vehicle can get 24mpg highway!
The best way to get one of these vans is with the Diesel, in my opinion. A friend has a ~94 Club Wagon that had a diesel swapped in when the 250K mile 460 gave up. It’s a 7.3 out of an ambulance, and has probably close to 800K on it now, half of those hauling a loaded race car trailer. It is by far the most multi-purpose vehicle I have ever seen.
I’m thinking about buying a van just like that (though a bit older) and I’m glad your story confirms my prior belief that they are the most reliable things Ford has ever made.
I’m sorry to see you didn’t/don’t enjoy your time with it.
It was the circumstances of why it came into my life as much as anything. Few enjoy constant reminders of unpleasant events, which despite its profound reliability, this van simply is.
Yesterday we purchased a black 2000 Ford E-150 conversion van produced by Osage. We live in Texas County, Missouri.
So far it is awesome! We drove a 1988 Dodge conversion van for about five years. It wasn’t as nice as this one, and it had that high topper on it, which made it difficult to drive in the wind. This Ford is much easier to use. The air blows cold! The steering is wonderful compared to the Dodge. The electric seats and larger side mirrors make it a joy to drive!
We have a family of six with four kids. Our Dodge Caravan is just too small for getting grain and groceries and extra all in one trip.
We are looking forward to many years of enjoyment with the Ford.
It has the 4.6, by the way. I hope it performs as nicely as it looks.
Ours looks a lot like yours except it is black with gold trim and gray interior. I’ll try to post an image later on when I remember.
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Thank you for sharing your experiences with yours.