“Victoria”

When I came to North Carolina, it wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t comfortable. I arrived in a hard way — hurt, separated, exhausted, and trying to hold myself together while thinking about my children. I was blessed with an opportunity from the hard work and hard times I endured: better pay, my own place, a chance to provide. But it all happened in the middle of a terrible separation from the mother of my children. That time almost broke me.

I kept thinking about my children. Who would help them on this earth? Their mother wasn’t in position on her own. Of course the Lord has us all, but I felt the weight. Right after that I got a promotion, moving expenses, and a place to live.

I needed a car — I wasn’t trying to Uber, bus it, or walk it out anymore.

I went to Craigslist, the way I like making deals. I look in the “nice” neighborhoods where I assume people aren’t hurting for the cash. I saw a listing I couldn’t believe: one of my dream cars, a 1998 Infiniti Q45. A thousand dollars, with some issues. I met the owners — a father and son. The son was headed to military school and didn’t need the car anymore, and the father didn’t want it sitting around.

They told me the power steering rack needed to be replaced. They had a $1,200 quote. I took it on a drive — highway speeds, local streets — to see what I’d be working with. It was manageable in my hands, even though it’s a large car. I once had a ’99 Durango that lost power steering and I gave up on it, even though I loved that truck. I told myself I wouldn’t give up on a car again if it made sense.

I estimated $600 to repair the rack and hoses. I offered $600, explaining that I’d need to get repairs done ASAP or it wouldn’t pass inspection. I wasn’t penalizing them — just being real about money. They agreed. We shook hands, went to the bank, signed the title.

At that time, I still had a valid Pennsylvania license. When you relocate to North Carolina, you have 30 days to switch your license over before you can register and title a car. And I moved to NC on a hair‑string budget. So for three weeks, I rode around NC with no tags and no registration — but I kept full coverage insurance the entire time. I wasn’t reckless; I was just in a tough spot trying to get everything in order.

When I finally got stopped, the Chapel Hill police were chill about it. I wasn’t a troublemaker. I explained my situation, and they actually advised me better than the DMV about temporary tags. I ended up with four or five temp plates before I finally got Victoria sorted for inspection. It was chaotic, but I handled it.

I was excited and nervous driving my new‑to‑me car home. No power steering, needed shocks, brakes, oil change, premium gas — but I made it back from Hillsborough with no issues. And now, after many repairs, trips to PA, DC, and all over NC, I got her around 215, 220k miles now she’s at 242,000 miles and counting.

I work on her mostly myself. I replaced the valve cover gaskets. Brake pads and rotors. Oil changes obviously. Fuses. And I keep my jack, jack stands, and a full set of tools in the trunk at all times — because during that season of my life, I had to be ready to fix anything, anywhere, at a moment’s notice. Even now, as I write this, I’ve got a fresh set of front pads and rotors waiting to go on. I’ve got a car guy to help me when needed, but I count it a blessing doing the work myself.

The point is: I invested in this machine because time and time again she’s shown me she was built robust — and with care, she can do much. Very much how I see myself.

Victoria is more than a name and more than a car. She’s a symbol of my resilience, my responsibility, my faith, and my journey. She carried me through one of the hardest chapters of my life, and she’s still carrying me now.

Cade