A Letter for Bob

for BoB for BoB

By

Kim Rogers

Illustrated by Jonathan Nelson

Dear Bob,

Mom and Dad told me about the day they bought you at the dealership when I was a baby.

Everyone was so excited, and I giggled in my car seat.

They said that your paint sparkled in the sun, your seats felt feather-soft, and you had that new-car smell that made Mom and Dad act like us kids on Christmas morning.

Every car deserves a name, so when I could talk, I called you Bob. Bob stuck with the rest of the family, too. It fit.

STRONG, fun, trustworthy, Bob.

We’ve made so many memories with you . . .

At the Wichita Annual Dance, putting on regalia.

You were near when I danced my very first Tiny Tots.

You didn’t seem to mind. Sorry about that!

And a few years later, when I ate too much fry bread at the Indian Hills Powwow and— uh oh.

And the other stuff we spilled or splashed or dropped . . . Sorry about that, too.

On our vacation from Oklahoma to Grand Teton when we spotted the moose in the bristly sagebrush. Mom yelled, “Get in the car now!” And you sped away so fast!

Then you took us to Yellowstone, where Old Faithful shot up to the sky right on schedule.

You brought us there and back all in one piece.

You drove us to visit Aka:h in the Smoky Mountains—which the Cherokee call Shaconage— before she got sick.

You were close when she watched us at Sliding Rock. The water was so cold, it took our breath away.

Dad had said, “The water is just fine!” Brrr. Grrr. He thought that was soooooo funny.

You were there when we walked down to Looking Glass Falls. That was the day Grandma last remembered things about Grandpa. We stood in the spot where they had their very first date.

You got us to Casey’s baseball games, and Abby’s lacrosse tournaments,

and the Oklahoma State Fair.

To school.

To the library.

To friends’ houses.

And to the dog park with Max.

You took us to the hospital when Jenna was born, and then when we brought her home, you were with us.

You drove us to show Jenna off at Auntie Deidra’s house, where all the cousins gathered round to celebrate her birth with Indian tacos and strawberry cake.

You were a big part of our family, always waiting to take us on another adventure or drive us home. When your paint got dull or dirty, we washed and shined you up real nice.

When you needed a tune-up or repair, Mom and Dad were there.

When we got into a fender bender, you kept us safe, and we took care of you then, too.

Today is hard because it’s the day we say goodbye. We’ve loved having you and you will always be a part of us.

But when families grow, sometimes they need bigger cars.

We will never forget you, Bob. So:ti:c?a for the memories.

Love always,

Author’s Note

One of my earliest memories is from when I was three years old. My parents and I were at a car dealership in Jacksonville, North Carolina, trading in our green Camaro. My dad was stationed at Camp Lejeune and he was getting out of the Marine Corps. My baby brother had just been born, and my mom and dad said that we needed a bigger family-friendly car for our move back to Oklahoma.

I remember how sad I was looking out the back window as we drove away in our new car. Tears streamed down my cheeks because we were leaving our Camaro there. It looked sad and lonely. I didn’t want to hurt its feelings!

That was the car where the whole back seat was mine. That was the car we went on trips in—to grandparents’ houses and many other places, too. I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t keep the Camaro I loved so dearly. There was room in the back seat for a baby brother!

Although I never named it like Katie does in my story, that car and every car since has felt like a member of the family, holding so many memories that I cherish to this day.

Glossary

Aka:h (pronounced uh-gah)—A Wichita word meaning “grandma” or “grandpa.” There are not separate words for each.

Powwow—A Native American ceremony in which participants honor the Creator, ancestors, veterans, and the sick through dance and song. It is also celebrated with food like fry bread and the sale of items such as beaded earrings.

Shaconage (pronounced Sha-con-O-hey)—The Cherokee name for the Smoky Mountains in eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina. It means “place of blue smoke.” Western North Carolina was the center of Cherokee homelands.

So:ti:c?a (pronounced soo-deets)—“Thank you” in the Wichita language.

Tiny Tots Dance—A powwow dance category for children up to six years old.

Current ribal Locations

The Wichita people are indigenous to Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas. The Cherokee people are indigenous to Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina, and Tennessee. Although many members of each tribal nation live outside of their current territories, the Wichita tribal headquarters is located in Anadarko, Oklahoma, and the Cherokee tribal headquarters is located in Tahlequah, Oklahoma.

A Note from Cynthia Leitich Smith,

Dear Reader,

Do you or your family own something that has become a friend?

Maybe it’s a plush toy—like a stuffed toy rabbit or bear. Maybe it’s a baby blanket that travels with you everywhere. For Katie, it’s a car named Bob. A car that carries her and her family to big and everyday adventures and is forever folded into their hearts. Whatever may be special to you, I hope you reflect on it fondly and with gratitude like Katie does with Bob in this story.

Thank you for reading, Cynthia Leitich

In 2014, We Need Diverse Books (WNDB) began as a simple hashtag on Twitter. The social media campaign soon grew into a 501(c)(3) nonprofit with a team that spans the globe. WNDB is supported by a network of writers, illustrators, agents, editors, teachers, librarians, and book lovers, all united under the same goal—to create a world where every child can see themselves in the pages of a book.  You can learn more about WNDB programs at www.diversebooks.org

To everyone who also thinks of their car as a member of the family —K.R. For Caroll, we’ll miss you for a million miles —J.N.

Author-Curator of Heartdrum

Smith

Dear Bob,

Every car deserves a name, so when I could talk, I called you Bob. Bob stuck with the rest of the family, too. It fit. STRONG, fun, trustworthy, Bob.