DarkHalo

This was posted here last year shortly after I joined the Forum. The guy that made the post wasnt around long and didnt make but a few posts but I read this first post of his and have never forgotten it. I saved it and have read it a few times since then. Every tieme I read it I get a bit teary eyed. Old man tears maybe but I dare anyone to read this and not get a bit misty eyed....

Ok, this is my cherry post I am a 30 something (kid) male from Pennsylvania, I own a couple computer stores and my pride and joy (probably should be the wife but alas...) is the 1985 white Vette I picked up last summer. Here is the kicker, when I bought her I KNEW her from my younger days! As a kid I worked at the local Chevrolet dealership, started out as a lot car wash boy and moved up through detail and eventually became a mechanic and then I was promoted to lot manager there before I enlisted in the Army, well one of my duties as lot manager was to QC and sign for all the new cars/trucks as they were unloaded from the carriers... I will never forget that glistening white C4 sitting up there among the "lesser" auto's (the Monte Carlo’s, caprice classics and the like) She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and it was the only white Corvette we ever sold. This is a small town and a depressed area, we didn’t sell many Vettes. And never a white one. It was very late at night and once the autos were checked in it was miller time for me, but I wasn't thinking of that! The image that popped into my head as he ramped her off the carrier was a great white shark, cutting its way powerfully through the open spaces ready to dart left or right in search of prey... (this was actually going through my wee little mind as the over weight truck driver tried to cram himself in her charcoal grey leather seat, cussing and complaining about how bad he hated "those damn Kentucky nightmares.") After he unloaded all of the other future scrap yard refugees and left I noticed two things, it DID look like a great white shark ready to spring at any given moment, its gill slits behind the wide road sure tires even seemed to move in the dim shop security lights as if she were breathing. The second thing I noticed is the driver had left powder sugar from his doughnut on her smooth black wheel, I got in and wiped it clean... That was it folks, I was hooked the moment I looked out that windshield and gripped her now clean steering wheel. I had to drive her, she had little over 7 miles on the odometer, it wasn’t odd for a car to have 30 off the truck. I inserted that key and the dash lit up, and then dimmed because the garage area was shut down to nothing but security lighting for the night. As I turned that key the beast rumbled to a high idle and then eased down to a low steady throbbing pulse of pure ground shaking V8 power. I slipped her transmission into drive and the tires made a squeak on the painted smooth concrete floor, as I released the brake, she started to roll smoothly forward towards the cavernous garage door. I pulled the headlight switch and the lamps rolled back, not unlike the way a sharks eyes roll into its skull for protection as they attack their prey. 30 mins later and after the most exhilarating ride of my life I was rolling her smoothly back into the service department, I revved her throaty engine and then let her fall off to an idle, it sounded SO good inside that garage I had to do it again, rev and fall off, rev and fall off... God I wanted that car!
I shut her down and walked all around her listening to the ticks and pings of the cooling engine and exhaust system, the humid air still heavy with the smell of exhaust, not any exhaust but CORVETTE exhaust. I locked up and drove my Demo home a nice car in its own class, it was an 85 Monte Carlo SS, black with red and orange trim, but it wasn’t my Great white. For the next few nights I would make excuses to swing down to the dealership just to look at her, sit in her... I never drove her again. When that Vette was sold I cried, I don’t know why, hell I new I couldn't afford her on my after school job money... but I cried anyway, my 17 year old tears fell on the back deck of that white shark right there in the detail rack, late the night before her new owner took delivery. I was in love, and to this day I have never felt that strongly about anyone or anything as I did that night over that car. I didn’t go to school the next day, I wanted a look at the guy who stole my girl... He was a nice guy as bad as I hated to admit it, he was a brit through and through I could barely understand his British dialect, but he was in love with her too, that I could tell. I never saw her again, hell she never came in for work or anything and 3 years later I was shipping off to US Army basic training. When I got out of the Army and came home in the spring of 95 I had learned a lot about computers, I was a truck mechanic in the army but I cross trained into computer and information systems repair and had taken some courses etc in the civilian sector. I started my own little computer shop and life was good, Charter Cable approached me about helping them get cable internet in our area last year. I went to people’s homes and offices and installed the cable modems. Shortly after 9/11 and the tragic things that took place that day I had an installation and I knew the name but couldn’t place it. The instant he came to the door I knew he was the man who had taken my first love away from me 15 years ago. He looked old, and tired his hair had gone grey and his accent was completely gone. We chatted a while and he said I know you from somewhere, and I told him the story. He smiled and said “I loved her son, but not like you did." As I was finishing up we made the general small talk, and he told me 4 years ago he had had a stroke and couldn’t move around real well and blah blah blah. As I shook his hand and gave him my best rendition of the "welcome to Charter pipeline, if you ever have any problems blah blah blah" spiel, he said "before you go, I want to show you something in the back yard" My heart pounded and my hand started to sweat around the snap-on ratcheting screwdriver (my carry over from mechanic to computer tech) he walked slowly out the back door and began removing the cover from her now dull and lusterless but shapely hood, I got tears and so did he, he tossed me the keys and said it hasn’t been started since last summer. I sat inside her no longer new smelling interior, grasped the sun checked and beaten steering wheel that in another life a long time ago I had loving wiped powdered sugar from with a cloth covered with armor all. And I put the key in the ignition and had to jiggle it up and down to get the worn tumblers to line up, I turned the key and got a symphony of clicks, and watched the dash wink out and then as I released the key it slowly lit back up again. The odometer showed 120 grand. He said "needs a new battery I guess huh?" I said yeah, but I appreciate the reintroduction anyway (GOD I WANTED THAT CAR!!) I climbed out (now I know why the truck driver was bitching *lol* im not 17 anymore!) he said do you still love it like that? And without even thinking I said it’s a "she" and yes sir... I do. He said "I haven’t been able to get in and out since my stroke, want to buy it?" I said I sure do!! And he said how much would you give me for it? I said I can give you a check for 3 grand right now and another 3 grand tomorrow morning. I knew it was too much but I had a shot at my first love and I wasn’t going to worry about little things! He agreed and the next day I put a battery in her and as I pulled her out of his driveway (check engine light on steady, missing badly on stale gas, blue smoke curling up around the tail section...) He was crying openly there in his front yard in a bathrobe and old man slippers... the world comes full circle I guess. I have about 15 grand in her now, new short block, new tranny, new diff, I still need a new smoke blue top and a speedometer (no rebuilds for the cluster, the speedo lcd is cracked) and I bumped the windshield with a wrench while dropping in the new engine/tranny and cracked it so that’s on the list too now. I know it isn’t worth what I paid for the car even in mint condition, but to me... it’s worth the universe. As they say “It’s never too late for a happy childhood!”
Grant

96CEC4

:sad: I'm with you... What a great story.....

:seeya

Matt

bigdan

yea, i remember that post too. thanks for reposting, it's a great story.

Cardshark

That is without a doubt one of the coolest stories I've ever read. If something is meant to be, it's meant to be I guess. :thumbs:

baddmann

That is one :cool: story... Didn't bring tears to my eyes, but it definitely was cause for some reflecting time. :yesnod:

CentralCoaster

Gee I'm a wuss. :sad: Thanks for posting that Halo.. Best thread I've read yet. It's so well written that it feels like it came out of a movie script! I feel all warm and fuzzy inside now. (Maybe its the cabernet.)

:thumbs: I'm saving this thread! :)

Anymore cool Corvette stories?


Something else that brings tears to my eyes is this story about my dad's first day behind the wheel of a Corvette, my Corvette last year.

My dad has always been a hard working man.. earned his first wages loading haybales in Montana. He served in Vietnam, returned to an unloving wife and a baby to raise (my older brother) without any compensation from the Army. He's scraped away a living by working some tough jobs since then to pay alimony and child support since getting divorced from my mom and kicked out of the house in 1986. She leached him of $900 a month during her following 12 years of unemployment. He inflated his credit debt to keep clothes on our back and food in our mouths. Drove over 400 miles every other weekend after work to pick up me and my brother to go camping, 4-wheeling, fishing and other things. After 25 years at his first full time job in Los Angeles, he showed up on a smoggy spring day and was told to find himself a new place to work. I spent a month last year working alongside him with his next job, doing hvac installs on the scalding hot, tarred rooftops of LA. His boss skunked both of us out of our last paychecks. Coincidentally, earlier that month the jerkoff boss had purchased an $80,000 motorcoach, and was showing it off to us. Since then my dad has worked pulling fences, welding, and now he's out in the oil fields busting butt for $10 an hour. His hard work has never repaid him. Recently, he's had to sell his 67 Land Cruiser, his beat up 78 Camaro ($500 bucks), and buy a 1985 Honda Civic shoebox just to help cut down on his credit debt. He had been paying my car insurance, and for some repairs to help me through my first few years of college. I finally wrestled that task away from him, he was so stubborn he wouldn't let me pay the insurance until I handed him the check on a day when he was frustrated with not being able to work because of his painful back. The first time after I bought my Corvette that I visited him was on the 4th of July weekend last year. Strangely though, he didn't seem overly thrilled, and was kind of critical of my purchase. (I don't think he really wanted me to see his jealousy.) I drove him around some of the twisty mountain roads near his house with the top down and the sun glasses on. We got home and he helped me wash my Corvette. Later that day we (me, him, and his girlfriend) were all headed to the local 'Pioneer Days' fair & parade to meet some of his good buddies. As the three of us were all cramming into his girlfriend's Saturn, I told him to hold on a sec. I tossed him the keys to my Vette and said, "bring it back in one piece." I quickly showed him the quirky things like how to work the e-brake and the 4+3 transmission. He jokingly asked if I wanted to trade for his Honda as he gave me the keys so I could follow behind. When we got to the fair, I parked in the lot, and walked up to meet everyone at the food tables. He decided to cruise up around the backside of the building and park in the middle of the gathering area, and everyone turned their heads, and couldn't believe it was him when he and his girlfriend performed the infamous 'corvette clamber' to extricate themselves from the low seats. We all had a great chat and laugh before he told 'em it was actually mine. When we all got back to his house that evening, he stood in the driveway to have a smoke, and we bs'ed about cars in general. He then grumbled, "I never told you this, but the car I've always wanted to have since high school was a Corvette." I responded, "Well dad, this is about as close you can get, without payin for it." That day, he felt like a million bucks for maybe the first time in 30 years, maybe more. I hope that when I graduate college soon and am financially stable, I can figure out a way to help him out monetarily without hurting his pride. I'll try to get in a position soon where I can get him a well paying job. He always says, the only way he'll ever retire is if his Lottery numbers come up. I'd love to make it up to him for all he's done for my brother and I all these tough years. Heck, I'll give him my Vette when I can afford another one for me. :yesnod:

Sometimes I feel like a turd owning his dream car at only 22 years old. But I know he's proud that he raised a smart kid with good taste. :auto:


[Modified by CentralCoaster, 4:47 AM 2/15/2003]

Danny1994

Thanks for this re-post. This guy Grant should be a writer. I hope he is happy. Dan :steering:

Hurricane_777

Now that is what being a vette owner is all about!

Thanks! :cheers:

DarkHalo

Ive always had this feeling, call me silly if you want, that if I were to go to the Bowling Green, Kentucky plant and sat there waiting long enough I would sooner or later see this old guy (and I mean a really old guy) come out, head to the parking lot and climb into a pristine '53 (that from another angle looked like a ZR-1 or a Grand Sport or a Mid Year L88) to head home.

If I were to approach him and talk to him Id find out that he had been with the vette since day 1. Hed worked at Bowling Green since before they opened the doors...he had worked at the St Louis plant for years before that and was even at that small shop where they built the first run of '53's.

If you get him to talking Im sure hed have some amazing tales to tell about Zora and his dreams for the corvette. He was there when the deal was made with Calloway and he drove the first of the ZR-1's to come off the line with the LT5's in them. I bet he saw the original Grand Sports and put the hash marks on them himself.

What does he do? Well...hes got a very special job thats been his and his alone since day 1 for the last 50 years. You see he only works late at nite after everyone else has left for the day. He goes from corvette to corvette briefly touching each one, running a hand across the smooth shiny hood or along the back end where theyve had the dual tail lights for so long. He might open the door and sit in the new leather seats running a hand across the leather wrapped steering wheel looking out thru the windshield.

You see his job is a very, very important one...his job is to put that special something into every Corvette that comes off the line. He puts the "Corvette Soul" into each and every one. Its not very large physically, you could barely even see it...maybe not at all in a dim light but it has the heart of a lion and the guts of an olympic athlete. On some vettes its a bit dim if the cars been beaten up or abused for years and on some of the pampered ones its still glowing as bright and shiny as when new. But its still there in every vette thats on the road.

Yeah Id like to meet him, to buy him a beer, shake his hand and hear his stories as I know hed have some amazing ones. I just hope hes around for the next 50 years as well. :cheers:

OURRUBY

Sure is a great story. I had always hoped to run across my 1969 Super Bee that I had waiting for me upon my return from Vietnam. No such luck though. :seeya