I sure hate to see that. However it reminds me of something that used to be in my town. On the outskirts there was a store that used to be a small garage. Beside it was a car that was covered up. You could see in the tears in the cover it was a 1968 Camaro Z28. It had been sitting there since 1968 and it didn't have 5000 miles on it. The car had pretty much been new, then parked and wasted away. Guys stopped by there all the time and offered the little old black man who sat in a chair in one of the garage bays alot of money for that car and he would always say the same thing which was:
"That's my boys car. He went to Vietnam. He didn't come back. My boy was deep in love with that car. It hasn't been drove since he left. I know his spirit is in that car, and I'll never part with it, not until they put me in the ground"
Some years back that older gent passed on. The gas station was torn down and the car disappeared. I'm sure whoever got it sold it right away unless he had something done to it within his will. I really felt sorry for him, because it was obvious how bad it hurt him that his son didn't come home.