the COLOR PURPLE

In the heart of Lee’s Summit, Missouri, the quiet hum of an engine floated through the air, mixing with the laughter of children and the occasional clang of tools. Brandonn Mixon was knee-deep in a restoration project, a 1966 Chevy C10 pickup, meticulously polishing its faded purple exterior while his sons, Ashton and Marlee, or even his daughter Novaa handed him tools, their young faces alight with curiosity and excitement.

“Hand me the socket wrench, buddy,” Brandonn said to Marlee, who scurried to fetch it with eager hands. Ashton, older and more experienced, was already underneath the truck, wrestling with a stubborn bolt.

This truck wasn’t just any project. It was a bridge spanning generations, a living testament to Brandonn’s childhood dreams, and a homage to the days spent under the hood with his own father. The Chevy was a canvas for creating memories, a shared journey of discovery and learning with his sons.

“Got it!” Ashton shouted from under the truck, his voice echoing slightly. The bolt had given way, and with it, a small victory in their weekend endeavor.

“Great job! Let’s break for lunch,” Brandonn announced, wiping his hands on a rag. The three of them sat on the porch, munching on sandwiches, the truck a looming figure of progress in the background.

“So, Dad, why this old truck?” Marlee asked, eyes wide with genuine curiosity.

Brandonn smiled, his eyes reflecting a flicker of the past. “When I was about your age, Grandpa and I fixed up a car together. It wasn’t just about the car; it was about the time we spent together, the things I learned. I want you guys to have that too—a project that teaches you more than just how to turn a wrench.”

The afternoon stretched on, filled with the sounds of their work and laughter. Every bolt tightened and every part polished was more than just restoration; it was a lesson in patience, perseverance, and passion.

Brandonn’s journey had taken him from the dusty roads of Afghanistan back to the tranquility of suburban Missouri, from the adrenaline of a helicopter crew chief to the steady hands of a mechanic and a father. His life had been a tapestry woven with the threads of duty, love, and service, each strand reinforcing the next.

Upon his medical retirement from the Army in 2013, Brandonn returned to his hometown of Lee’s Summit, Missouri, driven by a newfound mission to support his fellow Veterans. He founded Airborne Mechanical, a business aimed at providing low-cost or free heating and cooling services to Veterans in need. But his desire to make a difference didn’t stop there.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the garage, the Chevy slowly came back to life. The engine sputtered initially, then roared to life, a triumphant sound that seemed to resonate with Brandonn’s own resurgence.

The project would take time, perhaps years, to complete. But Brandonn knew that the true value lay not in the finished product but in the shared moments between him and his sons. Each day spent on the Chevy C10 was a chapter in a story of connection—a legacy of love passed from father to son, much like the torch he had carried from his own father.

With the Chevy’s engine humming in the background, Brandonn looked over at his sons, their faces smeared with grease but beaming with pride. This was more than just a car; it was a vessel carrying them through the past and into the future, a symbol of their journey together as a family. The road ahead was long, but they would travel it together, one bolt, one laugh, one memory at a time.