Pour One Out For The Dear, Sweet Ford Fiesta

We are gathered here today to mourn a dear friend. A steadfast companion, who stood by us all through thick and thin. When we needed cheap, efficient transportation, it was there. When we wanted something fun, lightweight, and flickable, it was there too. Yet now, as the light begins to fade from its freshly-facelifted eyes, it’s time for us to be there for the humble Ford Fiesta.

The Fiesta’s death is a tragedy, but one that doesn’t come as a surprise. We’re all familiar with its time spent on life support, and the ever-changing world that had begun to leave it behind. But the expectation of misery makes it no less painful, so let’s remember the good times we shared.

Our American experiences with the Fiesta were fleeting. The first, in the car’s infancy, came too early — we, as buyers fresh out of the muscle car era, weren’t yet ready for its compact, lightweight layout. We spurned it, declaring it unsuitable for American roads, and turned our eyes to its big brother named Escort. The Fiesta, wounded, went back to the UK for a while.

In its absence, we matured. We looked more kindly on compact cars, and gained an appreciation (if not a European love) for the hatchback. So, too, did the Fiesta grow — gaining more doors, and even a performance trim that appealed to our inner enthusiast. When it showed back up at our door, for 2014, we were ready.

For five years, we had the time of our lives with the Fiesta. We laughed together, we road-tripped, it brought meaningful joy into our lives. But sometimes, even the greatest of connections can’t overcome a changing world. When its parents decided the Fiesta needed to return to the UK, we waved it a tearful goodbye at the shoreline.

Goodnight, Fiesta. What we had, when we had it, can never be taken away. See you in the next life.