Although I’ve written extensively about my burgeoning collection of antique cars, comparatively little has been said about my daily drivers. Honestly, there’s not much to say: I spend most of my time thinking about and spending money on old stuff; therefore, aside from regular maintenance, I don’t put too much thought into what gets me back and forth to work. In my 29 years of driving, I’ve only had six daily drivers, and only four in my name (not including my wife’s cars, which aren’t always in my name anyway). Perhaps the most memorable has been this unassuming Ford Escort wagon, which was an ironic purchase of the sort that wasn’t really ironic. That is, by the way, a fair summary of my life.
It’s unfortunate that our lives are inextricably bound to choices we make when we’re least qualified to do so. As 2001 began, I was 23 years old and had heretofore made exactly one smart big decision – asking out the girl I later married – and even that was a decision on which only a few months had elapsed. I was otherwise a typical American lack-of-success story: liberal arts degree, living at home with my parents, driving my dad’s ’94 Thunderbird. Although I had a part-time job, the guilt of freeloading on my parents’ bottomless goodwill was rightfully weighing me down (maybe not enough, not to mention how THEY must have felt).
During this time of introspection, I decided that I didn’t deserve to drive not one, but TWO cars that belied my precarious station in life. I therefore told my dad that he should sell the T-Bird and I would buy an older car to drive in the winter, so that the family heirloom ’65 Mustang (a rehabilitated rust bucket that bore all the marks of the amateur doing the work, i.e. ME!) could avoid the ignominy of rusting into the ground twice in its tortured life. As with all my wayward plans, I dove in not really understanding the limitations of my conscience, and so I began the search for a cheap old car, and by old, I meant sixties, not eighties.
For example, I found a ’63 Riviera with chalky paint and cheeseball pinstriping for three grand, thus initiating my lifelong fixation with that brand of hallowed machine. I test drove a very rusty ’64 Mercury Breezeway that was listed for $1900. It was akin to helming a Herman Melville short story: It was a winter day, the road rushing by through the open floor with swirling flakes of snow, the ship listing, the wind buffeting. The most painful near miss was a Mayfair Maize ’65 Ventura hardtop with eight-lug wheels that was simply too nice and rust free to drive in the salt: The asking price was $3500 and I could have certainly talked the owners down to three grand. My heart said yes to all but my head said no; how could I knowingly send an old car (or myself, in the case of the Mercury) to its doom?
Thus, the year passed, the T-Bird was sold, the cold settled in, and I was using the Mustang as a daily driver, against what better judgment I had. Luckily for the Mustang, my sister decided to move to Arizona and left her Escort ZX2 behind; I drove it until December, but her plans would require the use of her car after that. For some reason, I decided that an Escort wagon would be a fun, cheap car for a guy with very little to haul around, a car that I would laugh about owning but secretly enjoy. Although I don’t look like a prototypical hipster, my ironic-ironic stance renders that label not inaccurate.
Dad and I began our search in earnest. I called about a low-mileage ’93 with a stick, but the owner returned my call a month later, claiming that he had been out of town. Uh, OK. Dad spent as much time combing the lots as I did the internet, and he pulled in one snowy day with MY wagon, a silver ’93 with an automatic (unfortunately) from the local Audi/VW dealership. He did a little wheeling and dealing, which included a new muffler, and I was on the road for $2100. The silver wagon had 113,000 miles and a remanufactured transaxle that was, to be fair, problematic, although I didn’t know that at the time.
Oddly, I didn’t take many pictures of the wagon, although we had many adventures together. When I proposed to my wife outside on a rainy day (with no real ahead-of-time plan), the wagon was there. On the day after Christmas when I called up my best friend and asked him if he wanted to drive up to the Upper Peninsula to get a pasty (a six-hour round trip), the wagon awaited. The back seat was perennially folded; I carried a sled in the back for impromptu winter hills. A bike rack sat cleanly on the shelf-like rear bumper. The aftermarket CD player played my favorite songs, and only skipped about 28 percent of the time.
Two wagons: one collectible, one not so much
The wagon Escorted me to countless car shows and museums, camping, everywhere. It would be a lie, however, to say that it was trouble-free. To be fair to the Escort, my life changed to some extent after I bought it, and I was soon commuting up to 100 miles a day for my new full-time job. The first thing I noticed was the “Escort Dance,” a strange diagonal gyration that every Escort I ever drove performed at higher speeds in the snow. That was a quirk more than a problem, but the problems came soon enough.
First, the transaxle would lose drive randomly. I would be merrily cruising along at 70, and it would slip into neutral. I’d wait, and wait, and coast down, and check my mirrors, and pray to the gods of internal combustion, and by about 50 mph, it would slip back into gear and we’d be on our way. I changed the fluid and filter a couple times, and one day, the problem fixed itself (for me, anyhow…more to come). It never lost drive again for the 56,000 miles during which I owned it.
Second, one day on my way home from work, the temperature gauge spiked. I pulled over and opened the hood to find the overflow canister overflowing. We all know what that means, but a few minutes on the side of the road cooled it down and it was fine for the rest of the trip. The next day, it blew the head gasket about 10 minutes into my commute. Dad came around and swapped cars, and I spent my evenings that week swapping a head gasket and (I believe) the timing belt while it was 20 degrees in the garage. The water pump (which is driven by the timing belt) had already been replaced, so I left it alone. The Ford 1.9 may or may not have a reputation for blowing head gaskets, but mine did so with probably 140,000 miles on the clock, so keep that in mind if you’re Escort shopping.
Third, the parking brake mechanism was prone to sticking, and I’ve found that to be the case on all second-generation Escorts I’ve had to deal with (my wife and I have owned FOUR – what is wrong with us?). Once a year, I would disassemble the rear brakes to clean everything up, but it didn’t matter. It would start sticking, something that was exacerbated by my predilection for emergency-brake drifting in the snow, and I would have to kneel in the slush, taking it all apart again. With only 88 horsepower, any added friction was counterproductive, so my maintenance schedule in that department was rigorous.
Fourth, the rear springs rusted out right where the coils meet the struts. Deeming that unsafe, I found a low-mileage Escort in the salvage yard and bought the entire rear spring and strut assemblies for about fifty dollars. That was one of the easier jobs I encountered.
Fifth, the electrical system was finicky. Below 35 degrees, all bets were off on whether the dome light would work (Escorts had very cheap door switches; I cleaned them often to no avail). The dash lights burned out (I think I finally pulled the cluster to replace them). It had those awful, awful passive restraint seat belts that would occasionally stick in their tracks.
Worst of all, however, was the power. My goodness, this was the most underpowered car I’ve ever driven. I had to plan for hills by making the most of gravity and momentum. I’d put my foot down for a downshift, and the poor engine would be screaming as our speed gradually dropped. Anyone who lived in a higher elevation area must have been continually terrified behind the wheel. If that weren’t bad enough, the fuel mileage wasn’t spectacular, with most tanks averaging 30 miles per gallon or even a little less.
Needless to say, the Escort and I plugged along for a few years, but our relationship ended on my wife’s parents’ dirt road one November evening. A deer plunged into the left front fender at full tilt, rolled onto the hood, and smashed the windshield before I could even hit the brake. As I stopped, I got out to survey the damage. The deer, standing in the headlights’ glare, rolled off the hood, stared at me while silently cursing me with its black deer eyes, shook off the surprise of it all, and ran off into the field as if the Escort had never been. The Escort, however, had been: It had a dented fender, a misaligned headlight, and a busted windshield.
The next day, I filed an accident report and had the windshield replaced by my local friends at the glass shop, before using duct tape, zip ties, and a fuel hose to approximate an accurate headlight alignment. The insurance company totaled the Escort (I had comprehensive insurance), and I decided it was time to move on. I had a friend, however, who needed a car (his nickname was “Car Killer”), so I sold him the wagon for the same price it cost to buy it back from the insurance company, around $300. The transmission immediately started slipping out of gear for him, so he sold the wagon to his younger brother, who had no problems with the transmission at all. Eventually, my friends’ dad donated the car to charity: I saw it once after that, and then it was gone from my life forever.
I mentioned earlier that the Escort was an ironic-ironic purchase, and that’s something that I should explain. My whole life, I’ve taken things up ironically that I actually enjoy earnestly. For example, I became a fisherman one day after watching Bill Dance Outdoors a few times – something about the fisherman lifestyle appealed to me as our paths crossed. I bought a “Bass Fever” bumper sticker for the Escort, in addition to a bunch of fishing tackle and equipment, and did my best to emulate a real fisherman. In that guise, I enjoyed fishing with my dad and friends for years before realizing that I’m just a crappy outdoorsman who doesn’t like killing things (hence my pals calling me “fish poison,” an apt moniker for my relative lack of success in the craft). Being a fisherman’s a projection, a thing I want to be but really am not, but something I can fake long enough to learn something new and have some fun.
The Escort was the same thing. I didn’t see myself as an Escort wagon guy, but I tried it on, and found out that I really am kind of an Escort wagon guy. Sure, I used that same rationale when I bought the Dirty Dart, which fits me better than the Escort ever did, but trying something different as an inside joke with myself turned out to be a pretty fun time.
There’s no sugar coating it: The Escort was not a good car, and I don’t miss it as much as I miss the anxious excitement of being a young adult who got a bit of a late start. But it got me through that transformative part of my life and it made me smile as much as it made me grouse. My dad would laugh every time I pulled in the driveway; he called it “America’s workhorse.” I still don’t know why he used that appellation, but the Escort made him happy, too. I traded it for a Blazer, which was a taller and more powerful wagon, then another Escort, and finally, a modern Escort – my 2012 Focus. At this point in my life, I can only hope that I’m done with actual Escorts for good, but I’ll never say never about that.
Your Escort luck was rather the opposite of my wife’s…there is no telling how that happened. I fully agree about the lack of power. Her’s was a five-speed, which helped some, but the car had to be coaxed past 60 mph as it just didn’t like being revved up that much.
It’s good to see you dipping your toe in the COAL mine. I enjoyed this.
I have a few more cars to write up, like my ’87 T-Bird – that was my favorite “non-old” car. I wish my wagon would have been a five-speed like your wife’s; it would have been an even more fun couple of years.
Your transmission issue is like the one that finally got me out of my 94 Club Wagon van. The diagnosis I got was that a damaged VSS (vehicle speed sensor) and an undamaged VSS would send conflicting signals to the electronically controlled transmission until the transmission would put itself in a time-out. With yours having fixed itself for a time, I would bet on a wiring or connector issue instead of the physically damaged part I had.
These were never more than background scenery to me, so I never got any personal time in or around one. But I understand the idea of buying a car in a kind of ironic way and developing a genuine thing for it. I look forward to more ironic daily drivers.
I wish I could go back in time and check for any connectors at the transmission. Since it was a remanufactured unit, it’s certainly possible that something didn’t get plugged in correctly during the R&R, although I probably checked for something like that. It’s been a long time now!
Good story. At least you are able to part with your daily drivers, whereas mine followed me back to the barn and become part of the collection. The only DD that escaped was my ’75 Valiant that looked good, but became so soft underneath that it was unsafe for the last few years that I owned it. I still have the ’75 Monte that succeeded it as a DD (1988-2005), the ’85 Crown Vic (2005-2011), and the current 2002 Focus Wagon (2011 to date). The Focus sounds a lot like your Escort, except a bit more reliable and quicker. It is a real bugger in the Winter, though, and is still the only car that I really had to put Winter tires on just to be safe.
I have a hard time selling anything, but luckily for me, I don’t get that attached to the daily drivers. The old cars are another story – as soon as I’ve put in some blood, sweat, and tears, they’re mine for good.
My first brand new car was a ’93 Mercury Tracer sedan, the Mercury version of the Escort. Was in my 3rd year of college and my beat to heck old ’84 Ford Tempo was leaving me stranded too often.
In all the time I drove the Tracer (and in the time my mother drove it after her car died and I gave the Tracer to her) it never let us down. Made many a 5-hour trip to visit my girlfriend at Vassar, now my wife of 24 years. One friend derisively called it “old man Tracer” but even with the auto trans it was fast enough to outrace another friend’s Porsche 914. 😀
As was typical of this type of vehicle, rust here in the northeast did it in.
I’d honestly love to have a 5-speed wagon version of this car now…it was a simple reliable car, and at this point in my life that’s all I find I really want.
Rust would have taken out the Escort if the deer wouldn’t have; it was starting to get crusty in a few spots.
When I was a young adult struggling with a bit of a late start, I went through many years of quasi-problematic cars, so I found myself perpetually scanning used car ads for what my next car should be. Several times, I came close to buying an Escort wagon.
I even test drove one — a manual, and I liked it. I actually showed up at the Ford dealer to test drive an Escort GT, but it was out of my price range… the wagon was right next to it, and since it was a manual, I figured I’d give it a try. It was nice, seemed relatively well put together for the price, and if I really needed a car right then I very well may have bought it.
I like these cars, in the kind of practical way that one could like a cheap, small wagon. The only semi-modern equivalent that comes to mind is the Pontiac Vibe / Matrix, which I could also see myself buying if the circumstances were right.
I do recall a few friends of mine had Escorts of this generation, and they all seemed to have minor electrical issues, like sporadically-operating accessories.
And as for this quote:
…no truer words have ever been written!
My sister had a Matrix that she seemed to like pretty well. The modern Escort is really something like an Escape, but I don’t think there’s anything out there that’s a bargain basement econobox.
When I’m ready to get rid of my Focus, I’ll be looking at a Maverick; they’re reasonably priced and utilitarian.
My second new car was a 1981 Mercury Lynx – the “upscale” version of the Escort. Within two months it suffered catastrophic engine failure. Not a good sign. So the dealer allowed me to trade for a 1982 Mercury LN7 – my first “sports” car (LOL). It was good and reliable and I’d love to see one appearing on these pages someday.
Good luck finding an LN7 these days! They must have been thin on the ground even back in ’82.
Wow – LN7 production was only about 35,000 for ’82, followed by just 4,500 for ’83 before the plug was pulled and the EXP got its hatchback. Super rare cars. I wonder if any are still running.
In 1998 I bought my daughter one of these, a maroon ’93, 5 speed, “basic” wagon, (no roof rack) for her new life as a grad student, & a place to haul her Chesapeake Bay retriever animal. I think it had about 70K on it when purchased, & in the three years she had it, with trips from Virginia to Maine, Oregon, Florida, & lots of field work at school, I’d say one loss of a timing belt, (no motor damage) & final issue that I forgot exactly (maybe head gasket), she got her (my) money’s worth.
Yep, I don’t think the Escort really owed me anything when I was finished with it.
My parents bought a 91 Escort LX 5-door, with the 1.9L and 5-speed manual transmission on Dec 31, 1991. It was one of 3 “left-over” 91s, the 92s had been out for couple of months already. Our car was great, we never had any troubles with it at all. The car got excellent gas mileage, and it was only ever at the dealer once for a recall (i can’t remember now what it was for).
The car moved with us from the Central Valley of CA to the high desert (5000′ above sea level) of Albuquerque. Even in the higher elevation, the car did well. It wasn’t a pocket rocket, but it would get up to freeway speed just fine and would cruise nicely at 65 on the freeway.
The car ultimately met its demise on a wintery road at the hands of my younger brother. A newly licensed driver + snowy road + guardrail = totalled Escort.
You know, my Escort was fine on flat ground, it was always the hills that made me sweat a little. I commonly drove it at freeway-plus speeds for hours on end.
This was terrific. I liked the whole ’90s ironic-but-not-ironic vibe of this entire piece. I’m not familiar with these Escorts on a firsthand basis, but this was the biggest number of problems I remember reading about them having. It sounds like most of them were relatively inexpensive for you to fix, given your own handiness in the garage.
I also respect your decision to pass on the classic Poncho out of deference to hoping it would stay nicer than you might have been able to keep it at that stage in your life. And now I’m hungry for a good, old Michigan pasty (pronounced “pass-tee” for those who are unfamiliar).
You’re right…the Escort didn’t cost me a lot to own, just a little repair time here and there. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a pasty, too…years!
I find these Escorts quite attractive, as I recall this was the generation where for a while the hook was that they were all the same price, i.e. you had your choice of the 3-door, 4-door, or wagon for the same pile of dollars. Was there a fourth option, maybe a 5-door liftback? Anyway, the wagon seems like the one to go for just for the utility if nothing else.
Cheap to buy, cheap to maintain (more or less), and sadly no more, at least from Ford or even any of the other domestics, these are the cars that are generally unloved but generally dependable, they get none of the weekend waxing and care, but most of the weekday mileage put on them. In other words, the irony is that for car guys these and cars like them get 90% of the miles and 10% of the care while the real cars in the garage get 10% of the miles and 90% of the care.
That one price ($9,995) was a good deal, as the obvious choice was the wagon, which normally cost a fair bit more than the sedans. I had two SILs that bought them, at my recommendation, and they both loved them and had them for a long time. One only died not that many years ago when her husband, who was still driving it to the commuter train station daily, let the oil get too low.
They both had them for getting on twenty years.
A good recalling .
I remember Escorts as hated ‘penalty boxes’ but in the mid 1990’s a G.F. had a battered ’82 two door and it was as reliable as a rock .
Prolly neither a Monday nor Friday car …
-Nate
In Michigan, I remember that the first-gen Escorts didn’t seem to rust as badly as the second-gen Escorts…totally different cars, of course.
A not so amazing car parked in front of a museum with some of the most amazing cars in America. It’s great that you could visit the Auburn Cord Dusenburg Museum, but it must have been tough to climb back into an Escort after seeing such incredible cars.
Riding down to that museum once a summer is one of my favorite motorcycle trips
The first picture in this article has to be a first. Has anyone ever gone to the Auburn, Cord, Duesenberg Museum and taken a picture of a Ford Escort?
To make the author feel a little bad I will tell him that the Hornet’s Navy electronics volunteer drove a 1992 Escort wagon with the 5 speed. He gave it up in 2019 for a Fiesta because he thought the Escort could soon have major issues. He have it up at 355,000 miles.
Oh, I don’t feel bad. There’s no way I would have wanted to drive that thing 355,000 miles, and rust would have long ago overcome everything by that point.
“There’s no sugar coating it: The Escort was not a good car”
Meh, sounds like it treated you fairly well. Slow? It is what it is. And 30 MPG for how you drove it sounds fair as well. I can’t help but feeling that even though the car didn’t evoke any passion in you, it wasn’t a bad car at all. Some typical used car problems. Honestly I’ve had worse experiences with a used Camry and Accord. I hated my Camry, at least the Accord was decent to drive.
Before I admitted to myself and everyone else that I’m gay, I had a girlfriend and had bought her a 1994 Escort LX 5 door at one time. It was very reliable, it served its purpose well. The only issue it had was a broken timing belt at around 170K, and to my delight, I found out that it had a non-interference engine (unlike the ’97+ sedan/wagon). $150 parts and labor and it was good to go.
Not a good car? That was easily fixed.
All you needed was a move of continents, the loss of two rear doors, a thwacking big turbo on a spritely 24v twin cam Mazda engine, and 4wd, which is how this car could be got in topline trim hereabouts. Here called the Ford Laser TX3 Turbo, (in reality, all Mazda, the source of this platform globally).
But yeah, the car was the worst version of all the Mazda 323/Familia iterations. Fat, spongy, rather sog-ball handling, floppy in the body, it was only saved (in other markets than NA) by the extremely decent Mazda powerplants of the era. There’d be nothing left to bother with if the Ford CVH was the go, as it was in yours, of course.
And all that said, the reality of the commute is that when the thing just works, you don’t abandon it, no matter how dull it might be.
I had one of these Escort wagons for several years and it was a trusty camping machine for me and my dog. It had a weird thing with the (automatic) transmission where at a particular intersection of vehicle speed and throttle setting it would buck violently. Was quite alarming but it quickly became second nature to avoid the problematic combination and I eventually stopped worrying about it. I quite liked that car but as was mentioned in the article the rear suspension corroded and rather than trying to graft donor parts in to fix it I took the ‘Scrap-It’ offer and handed it over to be junked in return for $500 cash and a car share membership. The membership is also worth $500 which will be returned to me if I ever decide to end it, but I’ve held on to it because it has actually been really handy over the years and they have a diverse selection of vehicles including sports cars, trucks, and electric vehicles to choose from. I’m sure I made the right decision financially speaking but I still kinda feel bad about putting that otherwise quite nice car down.
I used to have a 2002 Escort Sedan, bought CPO used, as the last couple years of production were for fleet sales only.
E-brake froze on mine too. The e-brake setup was very much like that on my 85 Mazda GLC: cable connects to a lever extending through the backplate. Other end of the lever pushes on one shoe, with a bar pivoted on the lever, that pushes on the other shoe. My GLC had the same setup, except on the Mazda the lever was at the bottom of the backplate and the Escort had the lever at the top of the backplate.
E-brake on the GLC started freezing every year when the car got to be about 4-5 years old. The independent shop where I took the car for maintenance would wire wheel all the rust off of the levers and slather them in waterproof lube. A year later, the brake would freeze again. Deduced that the problem was that rust had penetrated into the pivot on the lever and the return springs on the shoes did not have enough leverage to fight the extra friction in that pivot. Mosied over to the Mazda dealer and ordered them to replace the levers. Problem cured for the remaining 3-4 years I had that car.
When the e-brake on the Escort froze, I mosied it over to Belle Tire and ordered the e-brake levers replaced. Dealers must keep an iron grip on replacement levers, because, like the independent shop I had taken the GLC to, Belle Tire didn’t want to replace the levers, no matter how much I insisted that was what the problem was. Belle Tire’s refusal exceeded my powers of persuasion, so they released the brake and I went on my way, making a note to self to not touch the brake again.
The collection of warning lights on the dash was growing: check engine from leaking idle air valve, occasional ABS fault light and, iirc, I got a CEL from engine under temperature once, combined with a nasty cold start bearing knock, at only 85K, said the Escort was destined to be someone else’s problem, so I sold it at a used car lot.
I have taken pix of every car I have had over the last 40 years, except that Escort. It was just that sort of expendable car. A while after selling it, I noticed that CarFax reported a salvage title had been issued for it, only about four months after I sold it. Started searching salvage yard listings using the VIN. Found it. So this is the only pic I have of my Escort.
A man after my own heart, though I have comment on your “6 daily drivers in 29 years of driving)…you might not consider me much of a car fan if I were to tell you I’ve owned 4 cars in (going on) 48 years of driving…and they all were daily drivers, as I owned 1 at a time (some overlap when I hadn’t yet sold the old one but had bought the new one. My current car is 22 years old, can’t say its been reliable…it has had to have power steering rack replaced, and it lost the cable mechanism to the transaxle such that I was unable to shift gears …didn’t leave me stranded, was able to put the selector shaft into 2nd gear and slipping the clutch nurse it home in 2nd (fortunately didn’t need reverse)…though I did get stranded when I didn’t have tools to open up my steering column when my ignition switch went…but it is an old car.
My sister owned an Escort as her first car and it was pretty good to her..still had a carburator, a shop added an electric fuel pump, for some reason didn’t replace the mechanical pump but it ran fine after that (don’t know how he rigged the electric pump so it would shut off with ignition)…it also had ignition module issues, but other than that was a good car.
Way back in ’81, my friend bought a new Escort wagon…think it was 1st year. His prior car was an Audi Fox, so rusted that the front seat tilted through the floor…back in ’81 interest rates on car loans was very high (I had one friend with a 24% loan, he told me it wasn’t from a shark.)…they were a bit lower on new cars, and he had a young family and the Escort wagon was inexpensive and roomy for a subcompact.
I tend to like basic cars, but ones that still retain “car” features that you might need on the road, especially if you run into problems far from help…so yes, I like spare tires and dislike cars like my sister’s Impala with only physical lock cylinder…can’t get in any of the doors with a key, nor even the trunk. The battery gave up in it recently, and couldn’t open the trunk without it functioning; without a flip-down rear seat, couldn’t get to battery booster box nor tools in the trunk until the battery function was restored. On a normally functioning car this would be alright, but batteries do die on cars, sometimes in the middle of nowhere…are people supposed to carry tools and battery booster in passenger compartment rather than in the trunk? I’m not like most people but I’d gladly forego some of the marketing come-ons like entertainment system or even woodgrain to get even an emergency trunk release in the passenger compartment (even if it wouldn’t pay for an actual lock cylinder). And I’ve had sidewall ruptures such that the old tire was toast, couldn’t use air compressor or sealant…what do you do if you aren’t near anyone who can help you get a replacement? Things on cars do go wrong.
I’d love something like an Escort wagon if they offered something like it…but no one caters people who only own 4 cars in 48 years, so I’m far from the target audience. A Focus hatch would be great too, but unfortunately my next car needs to be an automatic (no one else in my family drives standard, and I’m getting to old to have a car that only I can drive) but have heard bad things about automatics in the Focus hatches…seems like lots of newer cars have transmission issues, you would hope they’d have them figured out better…can’t deal with having one fail in the middle of nowhere.
I enjoyed your write up on your Escort. Curiously, I seem to have the same parking brake issue with a 2004 Avalon. Totally unrelated car, I know, but it’s nice to know that it happens to other people out there.